#it’s been a slow process but I’m learning to appreciate myself for it

[explode-this]

Argh, we had a *little* bit of grass growth—it looks all pretty and green—and rental management has fuckers on ride-on mowers out there just shaving it down to nothing. Not only can I not hear myself think, it’s just going to look like wasteland out there again for the next few weeks. I can’t wait to have a house someday and let the grass grow as shaggy as I want (if only houses in this town weren’t going for like, third to half a million dollars, thanks houseflippers, investment property owners, and realtors. Finally got to a place in life where a house might be affordable AND I’m finally coming to terms with homemaker life and I’ll probably be renting forever anyway)

[taro-pdf]

Humans are Space Oddities: Foster Human

When humans went to space, they expected themselves to be one of the more advanced species, only to find that space was already very populated. To less advanced, they were predators, and to more advanced, savages. Space is vast, and eventually some humans were kept as novelties.

Guang was excited to foster a human. After all, it had read about how humans would fight anything, eat anything, and survive anything. And though Guang was not strong, it’s partner, Hei, was, and would keep it safe.

The human arrived disgruntled, but Guang was not perturbed. It had heard of their pack-bonding abilities, and was ready to be patient and gentle. It even made sure to pick one that knew the Universal Interplanetary Language, so they didn’t need to wait for translators to work. Guang moved and spoke slowly; they didn’t need anything to slow the communication process more. It bent down to eye level.

“Hello. My name is Guang, it/its, a light alien. I process slowly, so don’t speak too fast. I am glad that you arrived safely. You are called Fern, she/her, human, correct?”

The human flapped her hands, nervous, or maybe excited. “Human, correct?” she repeated, then spouted out, “Hei is a powerful space fae that was born on earth but left as its magic grew," she inhaled, obviously making an effort to slow her speech. Guang blinked. It appreciated her effort, but why was she telling it about its own partner? The human continued, “this is common for fae. Did you know space fae are understudied due to the fact that they are extremely powerful and hard to approach? It’s theorized their power comes from dark matter.”

“Right,” Guang replied, “well-”

“Light aliens are a species often used for service for the ultra wealthy,” the human interrupted. “They are treated as living lamps due to their ability to produce both bioluminescent and electrical light extremely efficiently, as well as their ability to stay still for long periods of time.” 

Humans did like to talk, but Guang was unsure if this is what they usually talked about. 

“That’s correct,” it replied. It sat down and held out its hand, which the human grabbed and studied. “I was also on a ship from hatching until Hei approached me and I was given to it as a gift. But it treated me as a being, and I learned to think of myself as a being as well.”

“I’m a being as well,” the human said, dropping Guang’s hand and turning to the door. Guang followed their line of sight to see Hei walking in. It had taken a smaller, humanoid form, as Guang had asked it to.

“Hello Fern,” it said, speaking its native tongue.

“Hello Fern,” Fern repeated in the same language, approaching Hei. It squinted at her.

“Pardon me, do you understand what I am saying?” it asked. The human didn’t reply. She gazed at Hei’s translucent wings, and it turned so she could touch them.

“She’s been repeating what I say as well,” Guang explained.

“Call the agency and ask. The human should have been told how to introduce itself.” Hei handed Guang a communicator. The human mumbled something about aerodynamics.

“In the broader universe, convergent evolution meant that wings…” Fern started to explain.

With the human telling bits of information in the background, Guang called the agency. It was referred to a specialist that told it that human neurology varied greatly. The human’s behavior was not worrisome, but it may socialize differently than typical humans. If that’s a problem, it could be returned. Guang assured them it was not a problem.

At the end of the fostering period, Hei and Guang had learned much about their visitor. They learned to avoid certain textures, loud noises, and flashing lights. They learned that the human could tell them about almost any alien they wished. They learned that not every human would fight anything, and definitely wouldn’t eat anything. 

“Fern,” Guang’s chest had been feeling tighter and tighter as the day to return her grew closer, “I was wondering if you would like to stay?”

Fern was outside tending to the various lower species that she had befriended during her time on Hei’s planet. She didn’t turn toward Guang, but she did repeat its words.

“Like to stay.”

“Right,” Guang agreed, “I don’t want to treat you as a belonging to borrow and return. Being once one myself, and knowing you so well… I want you to stay”

“Humans have a rich history on their planet. They fought each other in countless wars. Some wars were for resources, others were for freedom.”

“I didn’t know that.” Guang was silent for a bit.

“Humans want freedom. It’s in their DNA. I’d like to stay.” Fern smiled, and Guang smiled back. Humans were ferocious, tenacious, and violent, but they were also gentle. Fern was proof of that.

[whispersoftheunheard]

Between Exhaustion and Emptiness: A Silent Battle

Tiredness. Loneliness. Stress. These three words are running through my mind on an endless loop. I don’t know if it’s the exhaustion from work, the overwhelming thoughts in my head, or something deeper that I can’t quite understand. But today, I feel different. I feel like I need someone beside me—someone to talk to, someone to tell me that everything will be okay, someone to remind me that I am not alone.

Yesterday, I felt the same way. Not just yesterday—this feeling has come and gone so many times before. But in those moments, I always had someone to talk to. Someone who could distract me from my thoughts, lighten my mood, and make me forget my worries, even if just for a little while. I never really felt lonely before. But today, it’s different.

It’s strange. I can think of people I could reach out to, people I’ve shared moments with, people who might listen. And yet, for some reason, it feels like there is no one who can truly understand what I need right now. No one who can lift this invisible weight off my chest. I don’t even know why. Maybe I’m just drained. Maybe I’ve been so serious about my work that I’ve forgotten how to slow down and just breathe. Maybe it’s just one of those days where everything feels a little too much.

So, instead of calling someone, I chose to write. I thought that maybe putting my emotions into words would help me understand what I’m feeling. Maybe it would make me feel lighter, give me some clarity, or at least make me feel heard, even if it’s only by myself. But as I write, I still feel that same emptiness inside me. That same strange vacuum that refuses to be filled.

For the past two days, I have been completely engrossed in my project. I’ve poured my energy, my focus, and my emotions into it. And now, I feel the weight of it pressing down on me. I’m mentally drained, physically exhausted, and emotionally distant. Even the idea of calling my brother—the one person I share everything with—feels too tiring. Usually, he is the first person I go to when I feel like this. But today, I don’t even have the energy to talk. And that, in itself, is unsettling.

Maybe this is what life is. A constant cycle of ups and downs, moments of connection and isolation, days when you feel like you have everything and days when you feel like you have nothing. We can be surrounded by people, yet sometimes, it feels like we are completely alone.

And maybe that’s okay. Maybe some days are meant to be like this. Maybe we need these moments of loneliness to truly appreciate the times when we don’t feel alone. Maybe it’s just part of the process—of growing, of understanding ourselves, of learning how to navigate through the chaos of life.

I don’t have the answers. I don’t know when this feeling will pass. But I do know one thing—I’ll wake up tomorrow and try again. Because that’s all I can do. Keep going, keep pushing forward, and trust that, eventually, the emptiness will fade, and the light will find its way back to me.

[countrymusiclover]

10 - A Special First Date

Part 11

Dr. Redheaded Neighbor

Comment your thoughts down below or in a reblog post

Tag list - send an ask to be added @annieradcliff @watermeezer @zaidatorcuatomorgado @kmc1989

Getting out of the Uber car I walked inside the firehouse 51 small door since the larger vehicle doors were shut most likely until they received a call for an emergency they needed to attend to. Seeing the back doors of the ambulance were hung opened and I saw some familiar blonde hair moving around. “Sylvie Brett!”

“Yeah that’s me. Can I help you – Mallory, what are you doing here?” She glanced over her shoulder sending me a huge friendly grin on her face.

I stopped walking when I was standing outside the doors with a hand on my hip. I was wearing my old Army jacket that I hadn’t felt like wearing after the day I returned home. “I have a few hours before Will comes and picks me up, so I figured I’d come and hang with you. “

“Awe that’s cool. Although I gotta say that today has been pretty slow. But I do have some good news for you. My boss told me when you come into his office he has an application available for you at the ready.”

“How about right now. I’m free for a little bit.” I suggested hopefully.

She nodded gesturing her head toward an office door. We walked inside the building turning a few corners until we stood outside an office that read Chief on the door. “Chief Boden, I’d like to introduce Mallory Easton. She’s the former Army k-9 officer I have been telling you about.” She lead me inside where I saw a tall black man wearing a white shirt sitting in a desk chair.

“It’s nice to meet you, chief Boden.” I extended my hand to the man causing him to rise from his chair.

He shakes my hand firmly. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Easton. Brett has told me quite about what you did in your friends building. You saved her life.”

“I wasn’t sure if the clot would hold. I just remember seeing some pretty bad wounds when I was deployed. Just followed my basic instincts.” I shrugged my shoulders in response.

“Well, it was very impressive. And that is one of the reasons I am considering hiring you to be on my team.”

I shake my head still making point that he needed to understand regardless if they both wanted me to work here in this fire department. “I appreciate the opportunity. Truly I do. But I don’t have the experience of a paramedic or a firefighter. I know I can take the course to learn but would you mind that I’d be having to learn everything and be on the team at the same time.”

“If you’re considering taking the job you can start taking the courses now. Once you’ve gotten through them you’ll have a job waiting here in a few months.” He explained leaning his back against his desk. “The fact that you are a former Army vet will boost your credibility to get through the programs.”

I parted my mouth open processing if I took the opportunity or not. In all honesty I was spending most of the time when Will was at work by myself. Maxon’s company could only do so much considering he couldn’t talk back. Being in this department would be a good distraction and I could help people that I couldn’t necessarily do when I was deployed overseas. “Fill out the application information for paramedic training and I’ll be seeing you soon.”

“Thank you so much, Chief Boden.” I smiled shaking his hand again before Brett and I exited his office and back outside to the trucks.

Brett paused in her steps hugging me before saying a word back. “I can’t believe you’re going to be working here.”

“Woah slow down, Brett. I’m not anywhere near completely getting the job yet.”

She breaks the hug and I sent her a smile. “I’m just excited for you is all. I’m not worried about you getting to work here. You’ll do fine given the injuries and situations you’ve been through.”

“Thanks for having high confidence in me.” I responded before a car horn started going off and I saw a familiar black car driving up to the open double doors. I knew I recognized the vehicle but wasn’t entirely sure till the driver door opened and auburn hair came into my view with that cheeky grin. “Will!”

He shut the door coming over to us. “Mal. Sylvie.”

“What are you doing here. I thought you didn’t get off work until 5. It’s 3:50.”

He shoved his hands in the jacket he wore over his red hospital scrubs. “Natalie agreed she’d take on the rest of my shift for me. Plus I knew I wanted to surprise you.”

“Awe.”

Brett chimed in. “Hey if you need somebody to watch your dog for the evening I’d totally be open for it.”

“That would be great. Thanks, Sylvie.” I hugged her back too as a thank you.

Will held out his hand for me knowing we both needed to change clothes before going on our first date tonight. “Are you ready to go then, Mallory?”

“Yep.” Placing my hand in his we started walking back to the car. “We’ll drop Maxon off here!”

Sylvie grinned calling back to us. “Treat my girl right, Dr. Halstead!” She watched us drive away from the firehouse feeling excited just like the both of us were about the upcoming evening.

5:30 rolled around by the time we had gotten back to our apartment building and changed clothes. I had slipped on some black leggings underneath a short orange shirt that fell almost down to my knees. Will was in some jeans, a green short sleeve shirt with a black jacket thrown over it.

“So where are actually going now. You haven’t told me a single thing about the plans.” I asked as we made the drive further into downtown once we had left Maxon with Sylvie.

Will had one hand on the steering wheel when he glanced over at me in the passenger seat. “If I told you what we were doing it would ruin the surprise.”

“You are terrible at keeping secrets around me.”

He scoffed with a chuckle. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mallory.”

“The first night Maxon and I spent in your apartment you attempted to blame Maxon for eating the last of the Oreo’s even though dogs can’t have chocolate.” I sent him a glare knowing I was right. “When in reality you felt guilty that you did it and fessed up telling me the truth two seconds later.”

He rolled his eyes recalling the moment. “That is completely different. This time I want this to be a surprise so you’ll just have to wait.”

The drive didn’t last too much longer before he parked the car outside of a restaurant I hadn’t been to before. He came around helping me out of the car so we walked inside arms linked with one another. The hostess led us to the nearest booth where we sat across from each other. “The waitress should be with you shortly.”

“I can’t believe you brought me here. I wasn’t expecting you taking me someplace like this. I thought you’d be taking me to Molly’s for drinks and dinner.” I chuckled picking up the menu seeing that they had pretty much everything on there you could think of getting.

Will picked up his own menu looking it over. “We can go to Molly’s another time if you want. But I’d thought since this is our first official date it should be something a little more special.”

“What can I get you two to drink tonight?” The waitress with her brown hair tied up in a bun while carrying a notepad in her hands.

Will and I responded at the same time. “Angry Orchard.” I snorted a laugh out seeing a huge grin get plastered across his face.

“Okay, I’ll be back to take your orders.” The waitress slowly walked away with her eyes lingering on my best friend and I watched her sway her hips back and forth trying to seduce him making me gag at the thought.

Focusing back on the menu I saw that they had a Mac and cheeseburger that sounds pretty good. I knew we were at a somewhat fancy restaurant but they still had it listed on the menu so I should give it a try. “What are you gonna get, Will?”

“I’m not really that picky. We can split something if you wanted to.”

The waitress came back taking out a pen. “What can I get you tonight?”

“I’ll have a Mac and cheeseburger with fries. Oh uh – were gonna share that.” I handed her back the menu and she scribbled something down walking away. She came back a few minutes with two plates in her hands sitting it down in front of me.

Will cut the burger in half and we both silently ate. I take a few more bites before I saw some of the cheese coming out from under the bun and the next thing I felt was Will’s hand brushing against the tip of my nose. “You got something right there, Mal. There you go I’ve got it.”

“I guess you can’t take me anywhere, Halstead.” I chuckled watching him lick the cheese off his thumb.

We finished eating the burger and fries with him paying the bill where I thought we were about to go home for the evening yet that wasn’t accurate. We drove for a few minutes until I recognized the parking lot and building we were pulling up to. “Will, why are we at the hospital?” I asked shifting around in the passenger seat.

“I wanna show you something and don’t worry I’m allowed to take visitors in.” He unbuckled his seatbelt getting out first and I followed him towards the front sliding doors of the hospital emergency room.

We walked into the building going directly to the elevators. He hit the button that said up and then the one that was labeled roof. I kept trying to figure out what he was wanting to show me that was up there. The elevator doors slid open where I started to step out yet he covered my eyes with his hands causing me to laugh. “Will Halstead, what are you doing. If you want me to see whatever is up here, you gotta remove your hands.”

“You’ll see what I want to show you in a second.” He responded slowly walking the both of us forward out of the elevator.

I chuckled holding my hands out feeling my fingers touch the edge of a metal railing. “Don’t you dare let me fall over the edge of this thing.”

“I’d never let that happen. Now open your eyes in three, two, one.” He lowered his hands where I blinked my eyes a couple of times seeing all the building lights at the ground. From how high we were off the ground everything looked so small from here.

I dropped my mouth open twirling around on my feet seeing my best friend flashing me a huge grin on his face. “This is amazing. I’ve never seen the city from this high above before from the time I have been living here.”

“I’m glad you like it, Mallory. My boss pointed out to me that you could see the whole city from up here and maybe share some drinks. Like I told you earlier I really wanted this to be super special cause you’re special to me, Mallory Easton.” Will closed the gap pressing our chests together wrapping his arms around my waist, nuzzling his nose down onto mine.

I giggled nuzzling my nose back with his own, wrapping my arms around his neck. “You sure know how to show a girl a good time. And you’re special to me too.” Leaning up on my toes I captured his lips with mine, threading my right hand into his ginger curls. He leans closer deepening the kiss enjoying the moment.

Unknown to us my phone was vibrating in my purse that he had set down on the table near where we were standing. The caller was someone I wasn’t expecting to hear from since I had returned home.

[flojouno]

now i’m thinking about hair. i never had black friends growing up. didn’t have a black classmate until freshman of high school, then moved to a different school with no black students in sophomore year. hell i didn’t even have black online friends. now i have more black online friends (i don’t leave the house so black irls is tricky) and even THEN im not very close to them.

so my experience with my blackness has been centered by my family. my dads side is the worst cause my grandma hated black hair (given she grew up when our hair was called nappy and messy). she always complained when i wore it naturally. insulted me and constantly questioned when i’d get it “fixed”. my mom is from the islands so she appreciates it. she doesn’t understand how americans do their afros tho (she kinda just wets the hair and add oil and call it a day. no shaping or anything). i think my sister and cousin are the only ones who know how to take care of our hair! they both keep theirs really short.

i really like color and longer hair. i despise wearing wigs and weaves aren’t for me. it’s either dying my natural hair or braided extensions/other styles like locs or twists etc. i prolly do have more options but my mom does my hair.

it’s so fascinating to think about how other people get their hair done. friends always tell me about how they got their hair cut, dyed and fixed up in salons and barbers. it’s so fascinating and it’s like. a few hour process!! or less!! mine is like a whole weekend thing. never is a one day thing. never. cut the braids shorter, take the braids out, detangle then wash well, and prepare to braid. that alone takes most the day for me. plus my mom does it alone 9/10 of the time. she works on her feet all day so she needs more breaks, we don’t have good spots to have us both sitting while she does it, and taking out my own hair is awful and nearly impossible. do you know how tiring it is to fiddle with the top of your head for hours? that’s a whole workout right there! i can only do so much!

by the time my hair is washed and detangled again i’m exhausted. so is my mom. we usually continue it for the next day. preparing my hair and then braiding. i never learned to braid when i was younger so learning now isn’t ideal on my own head. but my mom and sister help which im so grateful for. i used to be so tender headed when i was little but my mom stopped yanking my hair as hard and now i can handle it better. a lot of my memories are sitting in the chair in front of my mom, me sleeping or on my laptop/listening to music on my phone, while my mom watches her shows. i have thick tight curls and my hair is getting longer each time i take out my braids (which is good since my hair had grown super slow my whole life. i blame all the relaxing and straightening). so getting each braid in is hell.

of course it’s also being braided with the fake hair. whatever color i wanted, and now im getting more creative with the styles! making bangs or putting beads or leaving the ends open or braiding all the way down with charms and stuff. it’s the best way i can do to express myself! it’s my hair! it takes time and effort and work to get my hair done. i’m stuck with it for a while so i better like how it ends! having my hair braided makes my life so much easier, especially since i’ve had depression since 10 years old. it’s been a struggle to take care of myself at all, so having the huge HUGE possibility of my hair getting knotted and matted and dirty was also right around the corner. braiding has been my savior.

not sure what this post is but i like talking about my hair :3 don’t get a lot of chances too. i never realized how much my hair means to me.

[professorspork]

I hope this doesn’t come across as like a pushy “update pls” I promise that’s not how I mean it. I’m curious at what point you feel like a multi-chapter fic is ready to post? Do you write it in its entirety and then edit chapters in between updates, write and edit it in its entirety, write most of it and continue writing the rest between updates? I’m very curious about your process since you’ve been writing some monster word count fics

I really appreciate you asking!

The short version is that I've learned over time that what works best for me is completing a work in its entirety before I start posting; above all I like posting on a reliable schedule for my audience, and I simply do not write quickly enough (or coherently enough) to do that any other way. There are a lot of reasons for that and I WILL ELABORATE ON THEM AT LENGTH:

I have several multi-chapter WIPs from the Glee days-- when I was in college-- that I never finished because I'm a delicate hothouse flower when it comes to maintaining hyperfocus, and I found a new fandom to be in before I could complete them. Back then especially, I was much less disciplined about writing sequentially: I would write parts of the story wildly out of order, focusing on whatever interested me most at the time. That means my hard drive is a graveyard of unpublished content, which sucks-- not only did I never give my audience the resolutions they were looking for, but I never got to receive feedback on parts of the story I was really proud of. I found that really dispiriting.

Going to grad school for screenwriting really helped me focus on telling a story in order, because there is literally no other way to write a screenplay than one scene at a time; it's far too reliant on momentum and consistency to jump ahead to "the good bits" and come back. I also did several projects-- writing my multi-chap Frozen&Tangled polyamory epic for a friend's birthday; pre-writing all my 2015 Cartinelli Week one shots far in advance so I knew they'd be perfect come posting day-- where I had a deadline I wanted everything Done By, which got me in the habit of writing to completion before posting. It wasn't something I thought I was going to be capable of because I'm like Tinkerbell, Finn, I need applause to live feedback is incredibly motivating to me, but having the ability to go back and change things in chapter 2 if I realized they weren't adequately setting up what I wanted to do in chapter 5, or whatever, proved to be just as powerful a motivator in a different way-- it meant I could tell the stories RIGHT, if I took my time with them. I also learned to get at least one cheerleader I could leak snippets to as I went, so that I still got the dopamine hit of the feedback even though I'm ages away from posting for real.

I also found that, as a reader, I always really appreciated when authors could stick to an update schedule so I could look forward to new chapters like I would episodes of television. It's not a standard I expect from anyone, but it is something that makes me really happy-- and the two ways to do it are to either write fast enough that you're just constantly churning out new content (not an option for me, especially on the occasions when I'm actually employed and can only write on weekends) or to pre-write and then slow release. it gives me a feeling of... mastery, I guess? Like "hey everyone here's a gift I'm giving you," as opposed to writing and updating when I can, which makes me feel like I'm always chasing something (BEING chased by something?) and risking losing my audience/my own fickle concentration if I were to wait too long.

My "ONLY post after everything is done" rule is a new one, because I burned myself on rely on certain certainties, the last D/s epic I wrote (lmao can you tell this topic interests me). I worked on that for a year and was 132k in with no end in sight when I started posting, but I was part of a Kristanna discord at the time, and I wanted to seize the audience I had before it disappeared-- which is always the danger of movie fandoms, which never have as much staying power. I had hoped that because I had such a big buffer I could keep writing ahead of the updates as they came up from behind, but I tapped out at 172k when I finished the end of an arc. That kills me, because I have SO MUCH unreleased content for that story which will never see the light of day, because-- again-- I'd let temptation win and wrote ahead to The Juicy Bits instead of forcing myself to go in order.

So, two things I've learned:

Only ever outlining the juicy bits that come late in the game, instead of lovingly finessing their every word, is a great way to trick motivate myself into continuing to write in order so that I can GET to the juicy bits, full stop; if I don't exorcise them they keep haunting me and that helps me stick it out until the end

By holding stories back until they're complete, I give myself the ability to complete them because I'm able to dig myself out of holes I've written myself into. In the old days, if I got stuck because I realized the real root of my issue had come chapters earlier and that's why it's not working now, I'd just... be stuck at that wall, unable to move forward, and that would be that. The idea of going back and editing a published story for narrative content is mortifying to me and something I personally could never do, so-- this way I'm giving myself more tools and options, so that I can tell the story I want to tell and tell it right.

In terms of my actual process, I tend to work like this: my most productive time is when my ADHD meds are at full power, so in an ideal world I am writing new content from like 10am to 3pm or so, getting as far as I can in New Content. Evenings, when I'm no longer in Hyperfocus Productivity Mode, I'll go back and reread things-- sometimes chapters from much earlier-- both to entertain myself and to make edits and changes. Often, that's just moving words around here and there for cadence and flow; rarely, it's adding whole new moments or thoughts to the chapters. I try to write In Order as much as possible, getting chapters beta'd as they're completed. I'm a nitpicky perfectionist, so keeping a hold on my early chapters until everything is posted means I can change them over and over and over again without anyone knowing but me, which I love-- and those changes are getting made right down to the wire. even when the fic is "complete" and I'm "only posting" I'm still making edits; some of people's absolute favorite parts of Newsbees were added literally the night before, when it was the "get everything into AO3 and do the final pass for typos and formatting" stage. Like, Penny writing sudokus on the fly for Ruby at the hospital? Ruby thinking in Adam Font? Those were 11th hour strokes of genius.

So yeah-- that's a very long-winded way of saying that I've found writing to completion first not only makes me more likely to actually finish my WIPs, but it makes my WIPs BETTER because it gives me far, far more time with them. I know it's not something that works for everyone, but in terms of my own sense of like, duty and responsibility and goal-setting, it keeps me on track without risking Guilt completely paralyzing me-- which is what happens when I post as I go and then get interrupted.

THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY RAMBLE.

[anoctoberpepper]

So a quick update: Over these next two months I’m going to be putting effort into original fiction so my AO3 posting will likely be slowing down. Disappearing off the face of the planet is pretty normal for me (I’m a chronic Discord ghoster 😭), but I will do my best to stay active here.

Please continue to hit me up with any of your favorite DnDads headcanons and ideas! I still definitely want to talk and write in this fandom! 

Sappy love under the cut. TL;DR I’m insane and you all have made me feel seen. 

So I’ve had a weird five years, the middle of which involved being hospitalized for the first (and god willing only) time, for mental health issues. I had a major depressive disorder that turned into a late in life diagnosis of “Schizoaffective disorder, bipolar type with mixed features” (I was actively delusional for 8 months, fun times). I have frilly diagnoses around that including generalized anxiety disorder, and an unspecified personality disorder. I say this because I don’t get to say it all that often. In my day-to-day life I have to keep that part of me tucked away so deep down that bringing it out to see the light of day hurts. Even though it’s a big part of how I relate to the world and it genuinely affects every day of my life. 

My closest friends barely understand my diagnosis. It’s hard to talk about. I either feel embarrassed or I’m worried that giving details will make people uncomfortable. Or maybe they’ll pity me, or worse they might not trust me anymore. Schizophrenia and Bipolar have hefty stigmas. So I don’t talk about it in any detail. 

But I need to talk about it. 

I was reading an original fiction piece I wrote before my diagnosis and realized that the main character, who was under the thrall of some violent magic at the time, was feeling exactly like how I would describe mixed mania now. It told me two things, 1) I was feeling horrible for a lot longer than I thought, and 2) I’ve been trying to describe it through my writing for just as long. 

I’ve written a lot over the last ten-ish years, and as all writers do I’ve tossed some of that writing into the void of agents' inboxes hoping for a bite. (I have received half a bite, one time). I write because I want to understand myself and because I love stories, but there’s something unique about having someone validate what you put on the page. Like “yeah. I get it, I feel that too.” 

I want to be able to yell my words to the world so someone will yell back. 

You all have yelled back. 

Genuinely and truly with all of my heart I could not have asked for a better gift this last year than having people feel seen by my writing.

I’m finally pulling my way back up from a really deep pile of crap and part of that journey was being able to write about Lark and Grant and Terry. Them learning to ask for what they need, and taking care of themselves and letting themselves be taken care of has taught me how to do it. 

I’ve found words to describe the mumbling voices I hear when I forget to take my meds, and the crawling-skin feeling of mania. I learned how to ask for things even if it’s as stupid as “can you walk to the kitchen with me so I don’t have to go through the process of making a bagel by myself.” Having characters take care of themselves has trained me to take care of myself. Utterly ridiculous, but absolutely profound. 

Another part of that journey I must mention is having people say, “yeah, that’s what it’s like for me too. I hear you. I see you. We’re in this together.” 

It is a gift I didn’t know I needed. People don’t usually talk about their mental health issues and when they do it’s generally not in a way I can relate to. I’m not really textbook anything, but I am some of everything. Being able to describe the pain of random mental health things and having other people say they’ve felt that way too has made me feel less alone. 

I don’t know how to end this rant, only that I would be remiss if I didn’t say I sincerely appreciated every comment and interaction I’ve had over the last year with you all. I feel comforted in a way I never thought I would. I feel joy in participating in this community, and a deep feeling of hope that things will keep getting better (and then worse and then better again). 

I love you all. Thank you for everything, and I hope to be back up posting as soon as I get some original fictioning done. 

(Or maybe I’ll get sick of trying to write my own stuff and I’ll be back here in a week. Who knows.) 

P.S. I’m still planning to work on Picking up the Pieces, it just might be slower than my usual pace

[sister-hawk]

i should also say that i had some trouble at the pharmacy the other day, and had to go there in-person to sort it out. and the person who i spoke to, who eventually resolved the issue for me, did seem competent and motivated, which i am grateful for. however, she spoke quietly and quickly, and it was very difficult for me to follow what she was saying or understand her at all. (tbh i would not be surprised to learn she has a touch of the ‘tism as well).

and when she gave me the two options to choose from, with the difficulty i had understanding her, with my slow processing speed, and with all the background noise (including another employee talking very loudly at the drive-thru window), the information just was not going in.

but! i stayed calm, and i just said to her (with an awkward laugh, and probably a much longer pause than i realized in the moment), “i’m sorry, i’m just a little confused, could you run that by me one more time?”

it was technically her third attempt at explaining it to me, but i finally got it that time. and then i made the decision, and communicated it to her, and i got my pills, and i walked out of there with what i went there for. and i have not been ruminating or beating myself up about it, like at all.

overall i’m very proud of myself for how i handled that situation, and i appreciate the patience she had with me (if she’s autistic, i’m sure she saw that i was as well).

[the-californicationist]

For the ask game, if you’re willing: ❤️ and 💛

No pressure though. Love your work!

That makes me so happy. I really appreciate that, friend. Also! Thank you so much for this ask!! 🩷

❤️ — I think the line that I wrote that sticks in my head the most is from Gunslinger, which doesn’t make much sense out of context but alas:

“Let him eat your bones right up, your faithful coyote, all the brokenness within you.”

However, I am most proud of the writing that I was able to accomplish in The Devil’s Summer. It’s a hard fic to read, though. Dark stuff.

💛 — The most impactful lesson I’ve learned from this process is that you should never rush to the good part.

I have written over 95 fanfiction stories in the past year, I have 525k words inked down, and I’m sure there’s a few tumblr drabbles that I can stack on top of the pile as well. Throughout all of them, I have a terrible habit of sprinting to the part that I want to read. I’ll have it written a hundred different ways, imagined it a thousand times in my mind. Whatever it is — the big fight scene, the first kiss, the earth-shattering confessional — whatever the good part is, I hurry towards it, hungry like I’ll starve without it. But, the rush takes the glory from it. Details add to the taste, like spices to a meal, and without them, I feel like some of my big moments fall flat.

I hate slow burns. I hate writing them. I hate reading them. And yet, I’m starting to realize that I just hate waiting to see if the good part will come true.

A good slow burn, with a talented author, will drop little crumbs, small promises, letting you know what’s coming. She’ll whisper between the lines, “I know what you want. It’s here. Just wait!” And I find myself trusting those stories. Banking on them. And then realizing that the good part was only good because I consumed all of the other bites around it. If the main meal is always dessert, who wants more cake?

And I think, through this realization, I have also learned to be more patient with myself. If you knew me back in October 2023, I was churning out 150k words per month. I thought I had to hurry. I thought no one wanted to wait for me. I wasn’t worth waiting for.

But that has changed for me. I don’t run myself ragged anymore because I think I’m worth waiting for. I think my work is worth my own patience. And when I do deliver a post or a chapter or whatever, I think it shows that it was built and crafted with care, spiced and salted and grilled to be at its best.

And it has taught me just how much more learning I have to do. That desire to rush, to skip, to only eat (or read) the dessert is still there. It still taunts me. I can still hear myself in my mind saying, “Why would anyone wait on this when they can pull up tumblr or AO3 and get something else right now?” And teaching myself to ignore that negativity, to power through with my details, to trust my gut and write about all of the intricacies that I think are important; I have learned to try to listen to that part of myself. It’s becoming easier to do so.

When people bemoan George R. R. Martin for taking “too long”, I think that if people feel that way about a world class author, surely they must also feel that way about the fanwork they read. Hell, people have even stolen fanwork to feed AI machines just because they “want an ending”. And I thought that was the norm, but now I just feel sorry for those people. They can’t understand how much sweeter the treat would be if they had just been willing to wait for the work to be done in the way it was meant to be done. I feel sad for them that they will never realize the potential for what was unfinished.

I used to only read completed fics. I didn’t want to wait. I needed to know how it ends. Does the hero survive the evil? Do the lovers tell each other the truth? Does he actually fuck her in that one bed they have to share!? But not anymore. Now, I taste the little clues the author leaves behind for me. I listen to her voice as I read: “Trust me!” And so I do. I don’t mind waiting for the good part anymore. I subscribe, I bookmark, and I comment to tell them how much I am enjoying being fed.

As a writer, I need to get better at that patience. On waiting for the good part to come. It’s not always easy, but it’s been a good lesson.

[celestie0]

omg it’s been a while and you’ve been missed! i’m so glad you got a break and got to let everything rest for a bit, as a writer (or atleast i try) myself, it wasn’t until i started writing that i started realizing how exhausting it could be and how much it can burn you out.

I found your page originally from kickoff which i loved and then ihm i just completely fell in love with ihm, your writing and work is amazing and i hope you would get more credit and support for how entertaining and well written your stories are!

I’m honestly so excited for how ihm is gonna turn out, i love the dynamic between reader and gojo and from some old posts before with all the talk of adding suguru possibly into the mix and honestly i have no idea why everyone was so pressed about the whole gojo ex wife thing because i lowkey wanna know the lore behind them.

i loved kickoff gojo so much but ihm gojo just felt more mature and playful like he gives off such cool uncle vibes ykwim 😭 (and HE IS) also i love him and juno’s relationship, it’s just the cutest

i love a good slow burn, it keeps me at the edge of my seat! keep up the good work and you have my full support and love towards you and your page.

make sure to enjoy your holidays!! your writing is loved and appreciated, sweetheart 🤍

hi darling so sorry for the late response on this!! but it made me smile so much thank uuu :”)

ouu yes same here, i didnt really know how challenging writing was until i delved into it myself! it be so tough sometimes but aaa. just slowly learning to fall in love w the process again

i’m so glad you enjoy kickoff and ihm! it means so much to me :”0 LOL yeah ihm gojo’s personality is kind of my dream man tbh but kickoff gojo has such a special place in my heart too 🥲

much love <3 you’re so sweet i could cry. hope you had a lovely holiday weekend!!

[fantasticalleigh]

Body talk and whatever below! Adding a read more for those who’d rather not hear it bc this turned into a whole venting post with a dash of mommy issues 🙄

took these pics (gotta appreciate the post workout pump) bc I’m kinda pleased my arm vascularity is coming back. I’m still fluffy all around but I’ve come a long way in building back all the muscle I lost when I was going through an ED a couple years ago (basically I took intermittent fasting to an extreme). I lost a ton of weight really fast and looked good back then but didn’t realize how much muscle I’d lost (which was pretty much most of it) until it was way too late. And during lockdown I was outdoors skating or walking pretty much 24/7 but once we went back in person and I was working and going to school and stressed over my senior year at uni I slowly gained weight back. And since then it’s been a slow slow road of getting it off, getting strong again, and making mistakes and learning from them. All that inspirational shit.

I’ve mainly focused on body recomposition for the past two years. This probably would have succeeded faster if I was getting proper sleep and really committing to eating healthy but I’m straddling a middle line and happy with it and my progress. My quads are building up and they’re still bitty but I’m happy. My upper back looks strong as fuck (using Rhea for inspiration since we have the same body type!) and I’m getting more definition there and in my legs bit by bit. The ass is fat again lol. The biceps are growing and my forearms will always be the thinnest part of me but also getting muscly.

So naturally the more muscle I have the bigger I look. I’m ok with that! I embrace it. I want to look strong. The point of body recomp is to build muscle and slowly lose fat in the process. Muscle burns more calories when you’re not moving around and so I’m ok with still looking fluffy if that means I’m getting stronger. I do lazy cardio and I want to lean down and I will but I’m not rushing into it.

There’s definitely body dysmorphia hanging around when I’m trying to fit into my shirts and they don’t fit bc my shoulders and biceps are bigger and make me wider. My stomach is definitely more flat than it was two or even three months ago and thank god bc my jeans are comfy again LOL. I look at myself and know I’m getting slimmer slowly but I still feel frustrated sometimes bc of things like this. I recently weighed myself a few weeks ago and found I was 211 lbs. Not surprised! I’m 5’9 and with a broad and strong build so I’m never gonna be light as a feather or dainty. Muscle weighs more than fat and I’ve been building a lot of that so no brainer.

(And for reference the last time I weighed upwards of 200 lbs I was very overweight and most of that weight was in my midsection and I was like three or four sizes bigger than I am now. Muscle makes a hell of a difference in body composition!)

Anyway. All this to say that I’ve been working hard and enjoying the process/results. I’m no physical trainer but I know what works for me and i actively try to take care of myself every day. But my mom likes to make snide comments about it all the time, joking that I’m training to become a wrestler (and so what if I was?) and she likes to call me “grandota”, which in Spanish means “big girl” jokingly. And she’ll tut about what I eat all the time if she sees me eat, things like that. (Not that I should have to defend myself but I do try to eat well. Lots of protein and veg, but I don’t restrict myself from tasty drinks or sugary snacks bc I’m human😝.)

The grandota thing is fair. I never used to mind it. I’m the second tallest member of my family (first is pops), taller even than my brother who is eight years younger lol. My mom is at least a foot shorter than me. But now it’s just mean spirited when she says it and it’s been happening a lot more lately.

So she sees me today, freshly showered and changed after my workout, just minutes after I took the photos above and goes: “are you training to be a wrestler? You’re getting fat!”

🙃

This is long enough so I won’t go into detail about the argument we had after. It’s not the first time she’s said these exact lines to me and I usually ignore them but i felt done today. And basically I told her to stop being passive aggressive about my body bc it’s rude and I’m tired of it (and she doesn’t get to talk shit when I’m actively trying to take care of myself and she doesn’t) and I don’t do the same to her. And then she got offended and said I should go live on a mountain if I don’t want people to make mean comments. 🙃🙃🙃

Story time over! Sorry for the loooong vent post.

[suleikashideaway]

10 ways to tell you're reading a fic by suleikas_hideaway

Thank you @gardengalwrites for the tag!! 

Most of these relate to how I’ve felt while writing my (still unpublished) longfic, but a few things have popped up in the recent one-shots I’ve written for the ffviiicharacterweek challenges. Overall, this was a really enlightening activity and took me wayyyyyy longer than I would have thought. Tbh, I’ve learned so much about myself as a little baby writer and I’m grateful for the opportunity to reflect! 

I inadvertently focus every aspect of my stories on personal growth and recovery. I started writing as a form of therapy to help me deal with my personal struggles, and so that’s inherently what my characters do, too. I live for that slow, nonlinear climb from rock bottom. Or, in my recent discovery of writing one-shots, it’s the understanding that yes, we can do hard things, or yes, it’s worth taking a step back and seeing the big picture and appreciating how we got here. 

In that same vein, I discovered that I quite enjoy writing the journey towards rock bottom. You know the one. In which you keep thinking “wow, it can’t get any worse than this!” And then you think it a dozen more times until you’re in a place where you can literally go nowhere but up. Love that. Heh.

I think the above two points make it obvious that introspection is my thing! I aim to give characters a reasonable and believable amount of processing time. I want you to be inside their little heads and see what makes them tick. What do they outwardly show versus what they keep to themselves? What kind of winding thought patterns do they have? What are their secret fears and desires, and do they even realize them? And hopefully not bore you to hell while doing so (:

It’s my goal to make every single word meaningful. I honestly don’t know if I accomplish this, but if there is an object or an image invoked, it’s intentional. Symbolism, motifs, imagery – it’s all meant to be there. 

In addition to the symbolism, everything mentioned has a backstory. If a character is drinking a cup of coffee in one scene, you better believe I have their entire backstory as to why they drink coffee. If a character mentions music in one single sentence, you better believe I have the entire backstory of their appreciation for music. 

So far I’ve only ever written in close third-person narrative. I’ve been striving for the absolute closest I can get without making it first person, using vocabulary and vibes that only that character can give you. This has been one of the most enjoyable things about writing from different perspectives. Tbh it makes me want to try first person sometime soon. 

I’ve also only ever written in past tense. I don’t know why I do this??? I want to try writing in present tense but it’s not something that feels natural to me, though I love reading present.

Another thing I try to do is give an immersive description of the physical environment of a scene. I want to make you feel like you are in the bar with the character, or out in the rain, or in a cold, unwelcome room. It’s something I strive for, and hopefully accomplish! To add to this, I aim for specificity in my descriptions. I try to paint a full picture without going overboard or making anything too purple. (Though I can admit I don’t think my one-shots really go for the level of description I like. Hmmm maybe some more editing is in order!)

I really adore writing romantic relationships as well as family dynamic relationships. Something I hope to add more of is platonic relationships! But as of now, none of my fics have any friendships really highlighted, which I think is sad!

I live for the narrative, which means I try to change my style based on what is needed for the scene. I think I tend to write long sentences but sometimes they get choppy on purpose if that’s better for the tone. Or sometimes, if a character is really in the throes then description is done away in favor for the inward spiral they’re having.

[akkrosu]

@majestictortoise Has somebody else caught me awkwardly lurking around spam-liking everything they post because I don’t do Tumblr the way it was probably intended? Because that must be the only way anyone can possibly know who I am. Well, thanks anyway!

Five things I like about myself? God, I hate this already, thank you very much. I’ll try, and right now I’m really glad I know pretty well what I’m good at, so there’s that.

I am undoubtedly good at languages. I don’t tend to put it like this often because it makes me self-conscious, but I think it means something when you study Applied Linguistics and are better at the foreign languages you study than 95% of the people you study with. I speak English pretty much as if it were my native language, various Spanish professors have asked me if I have family in Spain (which I don’t), and I am twice as fast at reading Chinese texts than my classmates after a year of studying it. And it’s both because I have a natural understanding of how languages work and because I actively put in the work and have the motivation to fully engange in a language.

I like learning. I always want to learn more. There’s this great German word, “wissbegierig”, that basically means “greedy for knowledge”, and I 100% subscribe to that idea. It doesn’t even matter if I’m interested in the topic or not—I soak up new knowledge like a sponge. And I’m also pretty good at remembering it.

I am nice. I like helping people. No matter if I know a person or not, if I like them or not—if someone so much as mentions needing something or not being able to do something, I will jump at the chance to offer my help. I once tutored a classmate in music theory even though she had never been nice to me after being in the same class for 7 years and even though I knew she would basically never talk to me again afterwards, just because I wanted to help her. I am terrible at accepting I can’t help someone, and will spend ages trying to figure out another way to offer my help. I guess a lot of things in the world could be better if people helped each other out more.

I say thank you a lot. This seems like a small thing, but I think it’s so important to say thank you if someone does something for you, small and mundane as it may be. It makes the other person happy, they know you appreciate them, it’s just great for an interpersonal relationship.

When I do things, I do them right. Even if it’s just listening to someone speak or loading the dishwasher. This often means I am slow at getting stuff done and tedious about the process, but everything I do, I get perfectionist about it until it’s just the way I want it. So if someone asks me to do something, they can be assured I’ll do everything they wanted and often more. Even if that often means they are asked a hundred seemingly tiny things about the task before it’s actually done. But I really like looking back at what I did after I finish and seeing something well done, something I’m proud of.

Thank you, I feel mildly uncomfortable now. Then again, it’s important to talk about what you like about yourself sometimes instead of drowning in self-pity thinking about everything you’re not happy with. So thank you for tagging me! Forgive me if I don’t tag anyone, I’m too much of an online (and often offline) loner who doesn’t know people. It was fun doing this though!

[aronavalona]

Tumblr post week 12

What’s Working?

Product Refinement: I’ve been paying close attention to customer feedback, and it’s helping me refine my offerings even further. I’m seeing that certain products are just clicking with people, and focusing on those has been a good strategy. I’m also starting to improve product descriptions and highlighting what sets each item apart. A little more storytelling seems to be going a long way.

Social Media Engagement: I’ve been ramping up my engagement on social platforms and it’s making a noticeable difference. Responding to comments, sharing more behind-the-scenes content, and simply interacting more is helping build that loyal following. I can see more consistent conversations with customers and collectors, which feels great.

Streamlining Operations: I’ve started to get a better handle on managing inventory and marketing. I’m getting more organized with my approach to inventory tracking and scheduling posts in advance. It’s helping me manage my time better and feel less scattered throughout the week.

What’s Not Working?

Conversion Rate: I’ve been driving traffic to the site, but the conversion rate is still not where I want it to be. I know it’s not just about getting people to visit, but convincing them to take action. I’m going to try experimenting with a couple of tactics like limited-time discounts, improved calls to action, and simplifying the checkout process to see if it helps.

Burnout: Running everything alone is starting to take a toll on me. The constant balancing act of marketing, inventory management, customer service, and everything in between is exhausting. I’m learning that I need to set boundaries for myself and take breaks when needed. Burnout is a real thing, and I’m slowly coming to terms with the fact that I can’t do it all at once.

Online Store Frustrations: I’m still not fully satisfied with the user experience on my website. The mobile optimization could be better, and some customers have mentioned that the checkout process isn’t as seamless as they’d like. It’s something I’m still trying to fix, but it’s been a bit of a slow grind.

How’s the Project Coming Along?

I’m feeling optimistic, but I know that growth is rarely a straight line. The past few weeks have shown me that the key is consistency — showing up every day, even when things feel like they’re not moving fast enough. I’m starting to see more repeat customers, and that’s a sign that things are working. It’s just about refining what I’m doing and staying patient through the ups and downs.

What Am I Learning About Running a Business?

You Can’t Do It All: I’m starting to understand that I can’t manage every single detail myself. I’ve got to start looking into outsourcing or finding tools that can help streamline processes. Delegating tasks is something I’ll need to learn to do if I’m going to scale properly.

Marketing is a Long Game: Building a brand and customer trust takes time. It’s easy to get discouraged when things don’t happen immediately, but I’m learning to embrace the journey. Marketing isn’t an instant fix — it’s about nurturing relationships and offering real value to customers.

Small Wins Matter: I’m starting to appreciate the small victories. Whether it’s gaining a few more followers or getting a positive review, I’m learning to celebrate those moments. They’re all stepping stones toward bigger success.

What Am I Learning About Myself?

I Need to Ask for Help: One of the biggest lessons this week has been learning to ask for help. I’ve been so caught up in doing everything myself that I’ve neglected reaching out for support when I need it. Whether it’s advice, a helping hand, or hiring out for certain tasks, I need to get more comfortable with this.

Patience is My Best Friend: I’ve always been someone who wants things to happen fast, but this process is teaching me that patience is crucial. Success doesn’t happen overnight, and the slow progress is actually part of the journey.

Self-Care is Key: I’ve learned that I need to prioritize self-care in this process. It's easy to get caught up in the hustle and forget to take care of my mental health. I’m learning that a well-rested, balanced mind is way more effective in the long run than one that’s constantly burnt out.

Aro Navalona

[winisayswhat]

Feedback: Thank you so much for my future spouse reading I appreciate it. I still can’t believe I was one of the winners I am so grateful that I was picked.Thank you for taking your time and doing this reading for me. I really enjoyed my reading it was long and detailed. The way you describe me is definitely the woman I want to be and envision myself as in the future. It’s a slow process but I’m working towards that. I feel I also got to learn new things about my future spouse that I never heard before from readings.I feel this reading showed a different side to them.I liked that the reading showed the good and bad things my future spouse goes through because life’s not always perfect. It made him seem more real and raw if that makes sense. It’s seems like my future spouse has been through some tough times which makes me a little sad. I can definitely resonate with them from things I’ve been through. I just hope my future spouse grows and heals from his trauma. I’m glad that when I come in his life things can be more stable. Yeah I’m definitely not submissive I think it’s because the relationships I’ve grown up around made me scared to be treated that way or be walked over. I think it’s makes me very strict about what I want. It makes me happy that once we get married even if we go through hard times after some years, but all marriage tend to have ups and downs. I always hope to get along with my in laws, but I’ll make sure to be cautious of my in laws putting negative energy onto me. I’m glad to hear that I’ll come into my own power it’s gives me hope for yourself. I’m happy my husband will eventually get back on track and better. I love that we will develop a deep understanding of each other. That’s always been really important to me in a the relationship I want with someone. I just happy in end it’ll all work out for us and will enter honeymoon phase that will never expire and our love and trust will grow. Hearing that part made me emotional because that what I’ve always hope and wish for in a relationship with my future husband. Thank you again for your time and energy and this beautiful detailed reading. Take care💗💗💗

Thank you very much ♤

[marksmusingsuk]

The Joy of Pottering: Finding Comfort in Solitude

There’s something oddly comforting about having a day with nothing much to do. No big plans, no looming deadlines, just me, my home, and the gentle rhythm of pottering about. It’s a quiet kind of joy, one that I’ve come to appreciate more as I’ve learned to embrace solitude rather than fear it.

Loneliness has a way of creeping in when you least expect it, but I’ve realised that being alone doesn’t have to mean feeling lonely. In fact, there’s a real beauty in learning to enjoy your own company, and for me, that often starts with the simplest of things—tidying up a neglected corner, rearranging a shelf, or just making a cup of tea and sitting with my thoughts.

There’s no rush, no pressure. I’ll pick something up, put it down, wander into another room, and suddenly remember a book I meant to flick through or an old song I haven’t listened to in ages. I might start one thing and get completely sidetracked by another, but that’s the joy of pottering—it’s not about productivity, it’s about presence.

Music has always been a big part of my life, and when I’m pottering, it’s the perfect companion. Some days, I’ll put on something soft and instrumental, letting the gentle melodies drift through the house like a warm breeze. Other times, I’ll play something nostalgic—songs that transport me back to different chapters of my life, filling the space with echoes of memories.

Then there are the days when I reach for my own music, letting my emotions guide the session. Whether I’m singing softly to myself, picking up my guitar, or just letting a track play on repeat, music turns solitude into something meaningful. It’s more than background noise—it’s a way of feeling, processing, and even healing.

Another thing I’ve come to appreciate is the way lighting can change everything. I’ve stopped relying on harsh overhead lights and instead use softer lamps, ambient lights or even candles to match my mood. If I need energy, I’ll brighten the space, but if I just want to unwind, a warm, low glow makes all the difference.

It’s amazing how much these little details matter. The right lighting, the right music, and a sense of ease—it all comes together to turn an ordinary day into something special.

On days like this, I find I notice things I’d usually overlook. The way the light moves across the room as the afternoon fades, the scent of clean laundry, the quiet creaks of the house settling into itself. There’s a deep sense of peace in just being, without expectation or agenda.

I used to think that being busy meant being happy, that stillness equated to loneliness. But the more time I’ve spent just pottering about, the more I’ve come to understand that happiness isn’t always about doing—it’s often about feeling at ease within yourself. Learning to be comfortable in your own space, with your own thoughts, is a kind of freedom.

So this morning, I’ll keep pottering. I’ll make another cup of tea, maybe flick through an old photo album or write a few lines of something that may never be finished. And that’s alright. Because in these little moments, in this slow and steady rhythm, I’ve found something quietly wonderful.