#thank god it wasn’t a sob sesh

[will-do-anything-for-a-dollar]

just read ‘Song of Achilles’ and I’ve been crying like a bitch for the past ten minutes

I don’t know why people were like

“Oh, I didn’t cry at that. It’s whatever.”

bc that fucked me up

[riverboundao3ff]

Riverbound, Chapter 1

Your name is MSPA READER, and you are currently vibing outside of the known multiverse.

Well, you don’t really use that name anymore, on account of it not actually being a name. Names sound something like Emily, or Muhammad, or Patrick, or Shamita, or a million other put-together syllables and sounds.

Names are something personal. A title is anything but.

You do have a new title, though, one you like much better.

The Guardian.

Because that’s what you became when you yoinked the timeline away from the control of Ultimate Dirk and that Director lady, whoever she was. You looked Canon-With-A-Capital-C in its ugly face, spit on it, and then bent over to wipe your ass with the fabric of reality itself. Out of desperation, love, and most importantly sheer spite, you took it upon yourself to defy fate so that there is at least one timeline where everybody gets to live happy lives. This was victory at its finest. This is what it felt like to finally get everything you wanted. Your friends? Safe. Multiverse? Secure. Hotel? Trivago.

In the vast and rich history of pro-gamer moves, you believe you might have made the most powerful move of all.

After using the Green Sun- no, sorry, the Green Sun to make your own timeline, you did what any other person would do and took a big fuckin’ snooze, curling up around your universe like a mama cat protecting her kittens. You earned it.

And, if you were being completely honest with yourself, that’s how you would have spent the rest of time.

It’s not like you didn’t want to live. No, living was good. It’s just… you were so damn tired. You’re tired of always running from place to place, person to person, era to era. You’re tired of being injured, scared, and alone no matter how many friends you made. All the gods of the Furthest Rings know you’d gone through more in like a year than most people go through during their entire lives. Couldn’t a bitch just enjoy eternity in the void?

Apparently not.

The dreams began innocently enough. Playing video games with Dave, John, and Karkat. Exploring Jade’s island with Jake and Bec. Baking with Jane. Kanaya teaching you and Sollux how to sew. FLARP-ing with Vriska.

Laying side-by-side with Roxy as you two watched the sun rise. Role-playing with Nepeta. Movie night with Eridan. Getting high off your ass with Gamzee and scaring the shit out of some teal visiting their kismesis a few hives away. Discussing politics with Feferi.

Escaping that hellhouse the Soleil twins called their home. Watching those eerie lights in the corpsefield beside Fozzer. You and Remele beating a purpleblood to death.

You barely realize how nightmares had invaded your mind until you woke up with Karako’s yowls of terror in your ears. You didn’t have ears anymore, though, or a physical form, so it just sounded like your favorite clown son was screaming all around you in the abyss.

Okay. This was fine. This was fine, you kept telling yourself. After everything that’s happened to you, you were bound to develop PTSD at some point. That was completely natural.

Except this wasn’t just PTSD. This was something else entirely, because even when you were awake you saw the faces of your oldest friends burning in your mind’s eye. Something churned in your gut, ancient and primal. It was a feeling you knew well, and was usually accompanied by you launching yourself into whatever stupid shit you found next. The longer you tried to ignore it, the stronger it became, until you were permanently wrapped up around yourself like the most pathetic ball of Guardian that had to have ever existed.

You knew long before you actually put words to what was going on.

Of course. Of course it wasn’t over, because why would you ever get to have anything for yourself? Why would you ever get to just rest? For the first time in… who even knows how long, you sob hysterically into the sleeves of your hoodie.

A galaxy twinkles in the outer shell of your universe, lighting up the zig-zag sign on your chest. Mallek’s lazy smile fills your thoughts. If at all possible, everything hurts even more, until you can’t even cry to let out the pain.

Did he miss you? Did all of them miss you?

Oh, God, Daraya. You promised her you’d take her to Earth sometime, and then you just totally fucking vanished from the face of Alternia. What a fucking dick move. Granted, you hadn’t meant to do it, but still!

Your traitor-asshole brain reminds you of the fact that all of them are dead now. As in, Tyzias tried to lead a rebellion against the Alternian Empire, and then they all got killed. Your traitor-asshole brain also notes that it’s all your fault for encouraging those kinds of ideas.

Way to go, you absolute tool.

Except… they don’t have to be gone. You are the Guardian of your universe, and you make the rules. It feels so wrong to even think about it, but… yeah. You’re basically a god now. You can do what you want and nobody has the power to stop you.

Which brings about a whole new plethora of fuckery. If you were to go back, if you were to rewrite history… are you any better than Ultimate Dirk? Granted, you’d do it out of love, not because you’re a power-hungry bastard, but still. Shenanigans of this level are not to be taken lightly, even by sad Guardians with absolutely nothing better to do.

You sleep on it, which of course results in you waking up bawling like a baby as you remember the best roleplay sesh of your life, which was when Wanshi proudly gave your Soldier Purrbeasts OC her full name: Twinklemoon. You had a Soldier Purrbeasts OC named Twinklemoon. That’s why you were crying.

That’s it. You couldn’t stand it anymore.

You need advice, and you know exactly where to get it.

<>

You find her on the 8rigantine, furiously scribbling something down on a chart with a bunch of little figurines in the middle of it. You know better than to just haul your little friendslut ass up there while Vriska Serket is in the zone, so instead you knock on the hull and call up to her.

“Hello! Lady Spinneret, an old friend is in dire need of some advice!”

It takes about two seconds for a familiar spiky head to poke over the side of the deck. Vriska’s one dark eye lights up upon meeting your gaze, followed by a toothy grin that’s both menacing and completely genuine. She reaches back to grab something behind her. A rope ladder drops down and nearly nails you in the noggin, just like it did whenever you dropped by to FLARP with her.

“What the hell, bitch! I missed you!” she yells. Despite everything, you can’t help but smile. Vriska’s wild personality and no-bullshit attitude was just what you needed.

You’re very proud of yourself when you scale the ladder with ease and scramble up onto the deck without getting too much out of breath. With the amount of insane shit you’ve gotten yourself into during your travels, getting into shape came pretty easily. You’ve been told by several reliable sources that your legs are to die for.

“The 8-ball foretold your arrival. I brought snacks.” Vriska points to a bag next to her chart, not looking up from where she was drawing an impressively detailed kraken-looking thing. “Eat something before you start gabbing.”

That was sound logic, so you drag the back closer to you and start rooting around for something good. You find a bag of stinkroot chips, open that bad boy up, and start munching. Damn, did it feel good to eat something, and to also have a corporeal body to eat things with.

As you gather your thoughts, the hairs on the back of your neck prickle with the sensation of somebody’s eyes on you. You instantly look up to see Vriska staring at you. Her expression is blank, but her good eye held all the energy of a thunderstorm.

You swallow your chips. “What is it?”

“You look… different,” she says, setting down her pencil. “It’s like I can really see you now.”

“Huh?”

Vriska huffs, but she still doesn’t take her eye off you. “Before, you kinda looked like… I dunno, like somebody cut out a whole in reality and shoved the silhouette of a person inside? Like, I know what you looked like, but I couldn’t tell you the color of your hair, or what facial structure you have, or, like… dude, you have freckles.”

“I have freckles?” You reach up and touch your cheekbone, feeling the soft skin. Oh, hey, there’s some acne. Dammit. “Are they cute?”

“Sure? I think freckles are more of a human thing, so you’d have to ask John or Jade or whatever. Also you’re blonde, like Rose,” she tells you, thoughtfully scratching at her chin. “You’re still short as fuck, though. I could probably punt you off the poop deck.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Congrats on not looking like a hole in reality.”

You finish off your chips and flop back to stare at the night sky. With all the time you’ve spent on Alternia, you can now name a lot of the constellations. Right now, the Empress’s Trident poked up at a forty-five degree angle behind the pink moon. “I think I know how we can overthrow the Alternian Empire.”

Vriska’s pencil falls out of her hand.

You continue. “Have you read any records on a rebellion that occurred about… like, fifteen sweeps ago? I don’t know the exact date.”

Vriska’s mouth opens and closes a couple of times, and then she nods. “I sure fuckin’ did. Sollux did some of his mumbo-jumbo and got me some documents. He called it an early wriggling day present, but I know he wants to help my little… agenda. How do you even know…?”

“Because I helped encourage the right people to do it. I was there, Vriska. Those kids were my friends, and now they’re dead.”

She’s silent for a moment. “The leader was a teal named Tyzias.”

Your eyes are hot with tears. “I knew her. We met because she tripped on the sidewalk while carrying a shitload of her homework, and I helped her pick it all up when it went everywhere. She had a matesprit named-”

“Stelsa,” Vriska mutters. “Holy shit. She worked closely with some jades who lead their little army. They caused a hell of a lot of damage to the Empire before it all went down, I’ll give them that.”

Neither of you speak for a long moment, which you appreciate as you try and hold your messy self together. The longer you think about your old friends and all the good times you had with them, the more you’re certain about what you want to do.

They deserve to be here.

Your blood pressure spikes just thinking about it.

It’s Vriska who puts your thoughts into words. “You want to go back and help them win the rebellion.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s fucking crazy.”

“Yeah.”

She scooches over to you so she can stare down into your soul. “If we combine our resources and collaborate back and forth between the past and the future, we can make it so less people die. We could even take out that pathetic bitch of an Heiress they had back in the day. With your powers…”

“It’s possible I could compact time itself to create a world where we… where we can make things right. We could even help Feferi…”

You can’t bring yourself to say it in case you jinxed something, but by the look on Vriska’s face, she knows what you mean.

“It could work,” she breathes.

Slowly, you sit back up. Your heart was pounding so hard you felt it in your skull. “How do you think the others would feel about it?”

“Oh, they’d shit themselves,” Vriska snorts. “A full-scale rebellion across time and space?”

“True.”

“But it could work!” she repeats, staring into empty space.

“And they’d have a huge advantage they never had before. Me,” you say, talking to yourself more than to Vriska. You’d created this universe with your own power. It was time to protect it. “Vriska, I need to go before I chicken out. Tell the others what’s happening and that I’m sorry if this all goes to shit.”

“Wait!”

You look back at her as she grabs your arm, claws digging into the fabric of your hoodie. “I… you need supplies. No frickin’ way you’re going anywhere without at least a hydration flask.”

You know what she’s trying to say, and your chest fills up with all the warmth of a bonfire. God, you love this absolute bitch of a kid.

Vriska drags you to your feet, and then you’re both sprinting for her hive.

Amazingly, you don’t die trying to keep up with the cerulean as you charge up the stairs to her respiteblock together. You’re still out of breath by the time you reach the top, though, but Vriska’s already grabbing a backpack and tossing shit into it.

“Get me that jacket off the door,” she orders as she tosses in what looks like a small medical kit. You obey and throw her the jacket, the black leather one with the bright red hood.

She then waves you over, and you slip around her desk to see what’s up. In her hands is a black sheath, with a matching handle sticking out at the top.

Vriska pulls the sheath off to reveal the blade: a brilliant silver-blue metal that nearly glowed in the darkness. It’s incredibly beautiful and very scary to look at.

“I’ve had this thing forever, so I’m giving it to you, okay? Don’t fucking lose it. Press that little gray button at the top of the handle to heat up the blade. Good for starting fires and cauterizing wounds.” She shoves the jacket into the backpack and hands you the dagger.

“Vriska, I don’t know what to say,” you begin, but she smacks you.

“Shut up and strap it to your belt. You better come back soon. I want a detailed report on everything. Single-spaced,” she snaps.

You grin. “Yes, ma’am. I should be back, in like, ten nights. Maybe eleven.”

“Ten,” Vriska growls. “I’m coming for your ass otherwise.”

“Noted. Tell everybody I said hi.”

“Obviously.”

You reach into that little part of yourself, which in turn reaches back out into that chaotic river that is the flow of time. You throw the anchor down and wade upstream. It’s a little rougher than usual, but you won’t let that stop you. There was no turning back now.

Time travel is always like trying to hit a moving target, but you have great aim, and when you find what you’re looking for you feel your face split into another huge smile. There’s nothing different about this part of the river than any other, but you know. When it comes to the people you care about, you always know.

Everything feels more real to you than it has in years. Two moons shine even brighter in the sky, the chilly air stinging your face, and you’re no troll but it still feels like you’re going home.

You open your eyes.

“Ten nights,” you say to Vriska, and you let yourself fall through the current.

Your name is MSPA READER, and you are currently vibing outside of the known multiverse.

Well, you don’t really use that name anymore, on account of it not actually being a name. Names sound something like Emily, or Muhammad, or Patrick, or Shamita, or a million other put-together syllables and sounds.

Names are something personal. A title is anything but.

You do have a new title, though, one you like much better.

The Guardian.

Because that’s what you became when you yoinked the timeline away from the control of Ultimate Dirk and that Director lady, whoever she was. You looked Canon-With-A-Capital-C in its ugly face, spit on it, and then bent over to wipe your ass with the fabric of reality itself. Out of desperation, love, and most importantly sheer spite, you took it upon yourself to defy fate so that there is at least one timeline where everybody gets to live happy lives. This was victory at its finest. This is what it felt like to finally get everything you wanted. Your friends? Safe. Multiverse? Secure. Hotel? Trivago.

In the vast and rich history of pro-gamer moves, you believe you might have made the most powerful move of all.

After using the Green Sun- no, sorry, the Green Sun to make your own timeline, you did what any other person would do and took a big fuckin’ snooze, curling up around your universe like a mama cat protecting her kittens. You earned it.

And, if you were being completely honest with yourself, that’s how you would have spent the rest of time.

It’s not like you didn’t want to live. No, living was good. It’s just… you were so damn tired. You’re tired of always running from place to place, person to person, era to era. You’re tired of being injured, scared, and alone no matter how many friends you made. All the gods of the Furthest Rings know you’d gone through more in like a year than most people go through during their entire lives. Couldn’t a bitch just enjoy eternity in the void?

Apparently not.

The dreams began innocently enough. Playing video games with Dave, John, and Karkat. Exploring Jade’s island with Jake and Bec. Baking with Jane. Kanaya teaching you and Sollux how to sew. FLARP-ing with Vriska.

Laying side-by-side with Roxy as you two watched the sun rise. Role-playing with Nepeta. Movie night with Eridan. Getting high off your ass with Gamzee and scaring the shit out of some teal visiting their kismesis a few hives away. Discussing politics with Feferi.

Escaping that hellhouse the Soleil twins called their home. Watching those eerie lights in the corpsefield beside Fozzer. You and Remele beating a purpleblood to death.

You barely realize how nightmares had invaded your mind until you woke up with Karako’s yowls of terror in your ears. You didn’t have ears anymore, though, or a physical form, so it just sounded like your favorite clown son was screaming all around you in the abyss.

Okay. This was fine. This was fine, you kept telling yourself. After everything that’s happened to you, you were bound to develop PTSD at some point. That was completely natural.

Except this wasn’t just PTSD. This was something else entirely, because even when you were awake you saw the faces of your oldest friends burning in your mind’s eye. Something churned in your gut, ancient and primal. It was a feeling you knew well, and was usually accompanied by you launching yourself into whatever stupid shit you found next. The longer you tried to ignore it, the stronger it became, until you were permanently wrapped up around yourself like the most pathetic ball of Guardian that had to have ever existed.

You knew long before you actually put words to what was going on.

Of course. Of course it wasn’t over, because why would you ever get to have anything for yourself? Why would you ever get to just rest? For the first time in… who even knows how long, you sob hysterically into the sleeves of your hoodie.

A galaxy twinkles in the outer shell of your universe, lighting up the zig-zag sign on your chest. Mallek’s lazy smile fills your thoughts. If at all possible, everything hurts even more, until you can’t even cry to let out the pain.

Did he miss you? Did all of them miss you?

Oh, God, Daraya. You promised her you’d take her to Earth sometime, and then you just totally fucking vanished from the face of Alternia. What a fucking dick move. Granted, you hadn’t meant to do it, but still!

Your traitor-asshole brain reminds you of the fact that all of them are dead now. As in, Tyzias tried to lead a rebellion against the Alternian Empire, and then they all got killed. Your traitor-asshole brain also notes that it’s all your fault for encouraging those kinds of ideas.

Way to go, you absolute tool.

Except… they don’t have to be gone. You are the Guardian of your universe, and you make the rules. It feels so wrong to even think about it, but… yeah. You’re basically a god now. You can do what you want and nobody has the power to stop you.

Which brings about a whole new plethora of fuckery. If you were to go back, if you were to rewrite history… are you any better than Ultimate Dirk? Granted, you’d do it out of love, not because you’re a power-hungry bastard, but still. Shenanigans of this level are not to be taken lightly, even by sad Guardians with absolutely nothing better to do.

You sleep on it, which of course results in you waking up bawling like a baby as you remember the best roleplay sesh of your life, which was when Wanshi proudly gave your Soldier Purrbeasts OC her full name: Twinklemoon. You had a Soldier Purrbeasts OC named Twinklemoon. That’s why you were crying.

That’s it. You couldn’t stand it anymore.

You need advice, and you know exactly where to get it.

<>

You find her on the 8rigantine, furiously scribbling something down on a chart with a bunch of little figurines in the middle of it. You know better than to just haul your little friendslut ass up there while Vriska Serket is in the zone, so instead you knock on the hull and call up to her.

“Hello! Lady Spinneret, an old friend is in dire need of some advice!”

It takes about two seconds for a familiar spiky head to poke over the side of the deck. Vriska’s one dark eye lights up upon meeting your gaze, followed by a toothy grin that’s both menacing and completely genuine. She reaches back to grab something behind her. A rope ladder drops down and nearly nails you in the noggin, just like it did whenever you dropped by to FLARP with her.

“What the hell, bitch! I missed you!” she yells. Despite everything, you can’t help but smile. Vriska’s wild personality and no-bullshit attitude was just what you needed.

You’re very proud of yourself when you scale the ladder with ease and scramble up onto the deck without getting too much out of breath. With the amount of insane shit you’ve gotten yourself into during your travels, getting into shape came pretty easily. You’ve been told by several reliable sources that your legs are to die for.

“The 8-ball foretold your arrival. I brought snacks.” Vriska points to a bag next to her chart, not looking up from where she was drawing an impressively detailed kraken-looking thing. “Eat something before you start gabbing.”

That was sound logic, so you drag the back closer to you and start rooting around for something good. You find a bag of stinkroot chips, open that bad boy up, and start munching. Damn, did it feel good to eat something, and to also have a corporeal body to eat things with.

As you gather your thoughts, the hairs on the back of your neck prickle with the sensation of somebody’s eyes on you. You instantly look up to see Vriska staring at you. Her expression is blank, but her good eye held all the energy of a thunderstorm.

You swallow your chips. “What is it?”

“You look… different,” she says, setting down her pencil. “It’s like I can really see you now.”

“Huh?”

Vriska huffs, but she still doesn’t take her eye off you. “Before, you kinda looked like… I dunno, like somebody cut out a whole in reality and shoved the silhouette of a person inside? Like, I know what you looked like, but I couldn’t tell you the color of your hair, or what facial structure you have, or, like… dude, you have freckles.”

“I have freckles?” You reach up and touch your cheekbone, feeling the soft skin. Oh, hey, there’s some acne. Dammit. “Are they cute?”

“Sure? I think freckles are more of a human thing, so you’d have to ask John or Jade or whatever. Also you’re blonde, like Rose,” she tells you, thoughtfully scratching at her chin. “You’re still short as fuck, though. I could probably punt you off the poop deck.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Congrats on not looking like a hole in reality.”

You finish off your chips and flop back to stare at the night sky. With all the time you’ve spent on Alternia, you can now name a lot of the constellations. Right now, the Empress’s Trident poked up at a forty-five degree angle behind the pink moon. “I think I know how we can overthrow the Alternian Empire.”

Vriska’s pencil falls out of her hand.

You continue. “Have you read any records on a rebellion that occurred about… like, fifteen sweeps ago? I don’t know the exact date.”

Vriska’s mouth opens and closes a couple of times, and then she nods. “I sure fuckin’ did. Sollux did some of his mumbo-jumbo and got me some documents. He called it an early wriggling day present, but I know he wants to help my little… agenda. How do you even know…?”

“Because I helped encourage the right people to do it. I was there, Vriska. Those kids were my friends, and now they’re dead.”

She’s silent for a moment. “The leader was a teal named Tyzias.”

Your eyes are hot with tears. “I knew her. We met because she tripped on the sidewalk while carrying a shitload of her homework, and I helped her pick it all up when it went everywhere. She had a matesprit named-”

“Stelsa,” Vriska mutters. “Holy shit. She worked closely with some jades who lead their little army. They caused a hell of a lot of damage to the Empire before it all went down, I’ll give them that.”

Neither of you speak for a long moment, which you appreciate as you try and hold your messy self together. The longer you think about your old friends and all the good times you had with them, the more you’re certain about what you want to do.

They deserve to be here.

Your blood pressure spikes just thinking about it.

It’s Vriska who puts your thoughts into words. “You want to go back and help them win the rebellion.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s fucking crazy.”

“Yeah.”

She scooches over to you so she can stare down into your soul. “If we combine our resources and collaborate back and forth between the past and the future, we can make it so less people die. We could even take out that pathetic bitch of an Heiress they had back in the day. With your powers…”

“It’s possible I could compact time itself to create a world where we… where we can make things right. We could even help Feferi…”

You can’t bring yourself to say it in case you jinxed something, but by the look on Vriska’s face, she knows what you mean.

“It could work,” she breathes.

Slowly, you sit back up. Your heart was pounding so hard you felt it in your skull. “How do you think the others would feel about it?”

“Oh, they’d shit themselves,” Vriska snorts. “A full-scale rebellion across time and space?”

“True.”

“But it could work!” she repeats, staring into empty space.

“And they’d have a huge advantage they never had before. Me,” you say, talking to yourself more than to Vriska. You’d created this universe with your own power. It was time to protect it. “Vriska, I need to go before I chicken out. Tell the others what’s happening and that I’m sorry if this all goes to shit.”

“Wait!”

You look back at her as she grabs your arm, claws digging into the fabric of your hoodie. “I… you need supplies. No frickin’ way you’re going anywhere without at least a hydration flask.”

You know what she’s trying to say, and your chest fills up with all the warmth of a bonfire. God, you love this absolute bitch of a kid.

Vriska drags you to your feet, and then you’re both sprinting for her hive.

Amazingly, you don’t die trying to keep up with the cerulean as you charge up the stairs to her respiteblock together. You’re still out of breath by the time you reach the top, though, but Vriska’s already grabbing a backpack and tossing shit into it.

“Get me that jacket off the door,” she orders as she tosses in what looks like a small medical kit. You obey and throw her the jacket, the black leather one with the bright red hood.

She then waves you over, and you slip around her desk to see what’s up. In her hands is a black sheath, with a matching handle sticking out at the top.

Vriska pulls the sheath off to reveal the blade: a brilliant silver-blue metal that nearly glowed in the darkness. It’s incredibly beautiful and very scary to look at.

“I’ve had this thing forever, so I’m giving it to you, okay? Don’t fucking lose it. Press that little gray button at the top of the handle to heat up the blade. Good for starting fires and cauterizing wounds.” She shoves the jacket into the backpack and hands you the dagger.

“Vriska, I don’t know what to say,” you begin, but she smacks you.

“Shut up and strap it to your belt. You better come back soon. I want a detailed report on everything. Single-spaced,” she snaps.

You grin. “Yes, ma’am. I should be back, in like, ten nights. Maybe eleven.”

“Ten,” Vriska growls. “I’m coming for your ass otherwise.”

“Noted. Tell everybody I said hi.”

“Obviously.”

You reach into that little part of yourself, which in turn reaches back out into that chaotic river that is the flow of time. You throw the anchor down and wade upstream. It’s a little rougher than usual, but you won’t let that stop you. There was no turning back now.

Time travel is always like trying to hit a moving target, but you have great aim, and when you find what you’re looking for you feel your face split into another huge smile. There’s nothing different about this part of the river than any other, but you know. When it comes to the people you care about, you always know.

Everything feels more real to you than it has in years. Two moons shine even brighter in the sky, the chilly air stinging your face, and you’re no troll but it still feels like you’re going home.

You open your eyes.

“Ten nights,” you say to Vriska, and you let yourself fall through the current.

Your name is MSPA READER, and you are currently vibing outside of the known multiverse.

Well, you don’t really use that name anymore, on account of it not actually being a name. Names sound something like Emily, or Muhammad, or Patrick, or Shamita, or a million other put-together syllables and sounds.

Names are something personal. A title is anything but.

You do have a new title, though, one you like much better.

The Guardian.

Because that’s what you became when you yoinked the timeline away from the control of Ultimate Dirk and that Director lady, whoever she was. You looked Canon-With-A-Capital-C in its ugly face, spit on it, and then bent over to wipe your ass with the fabric of reality itself. Out of desperation, love, and most importantly sheer spite, you took it upon yourself to defy fate so that there is at least one timeline where everybody gets to live happy lives. This was victory at its finest. This is what it felt like to finally get everything you wanted. Your friends? Safe. Multiverse? Secure. Hotel? Trivago.

In the vast and rich history of pro-gamer moves, you believe you might have made the most powerful move of all.

After using the Green Sun- no, sorry, the Green Sun to make your own timeline, you did what any other person would do and took a big fuckin’ snooze, curling up around your universe like a mama cat protecting her kittens. You earned it.

And, if you were being completely honest with yourself, that’s how you would have spent the rest of time.

It’s not like you didn’t want to live. No, living was good. It’s just… you were so damn tired. You’re tired of always running from place to place, person to person, era to era. You’re tired of being injured, scared, and alone no matter how many friends you made. All the gods of the Furthest Rings know you’d gone through more in like a year than most people go through during their entire lives. Couldn’t a bitch just enjoy eternity in the void?

Apparently not.

The dreams began innocently enough. Playing video games with Dave, John, and Karkat. Exploring Jade’s island with Jake and Bec. Baking with Jane. Kanaya teaching you and Sollux how to sew. FLARP-ing with Vriska.

Laying side-by-side with Roxy as you two watched the sun rise. Role-playing with Nepeta. Movie night with Eridan. Getting high off your ass with Gamzee and scaring the shit out of some teal visiting their kismesis a few hives away. Discussing politics with Feferi.

Escaping that hellhouse the Soleil twins called their home. Watching those eerie lights in the corpsefield beside Fozzer. You and Remele beating a purpleblood to death.

You barely realize how nightmares had invaded your mind until you woke up with Karako’s yowls of terror in your ears. You didn’t have ears anymore, though, or a physical form, so it just sounded like your favorite clown son was screaming all around you in the abyss.

Okay. This was fine. This was fine, you kept telling yourself. After everything that’s happened to you, you were bound to develop PTSD at some point. That was completely natural.

Except this wasn’t just PTSD. This was something else entirely, because even when you were awake you saw the faces of your oldest friends burning in your mind’s eye. Something churned in your gut, ancient and primal. It was a feeling you knew well, and was usually accompanied by you launching yourself into whatever stupid shit you found next. The longer you tried to ignore it, the stronger it became, until you were permanently wrapped up around yourself like the most pathetic ball of Guardian that had to have ever existed.

You knew long before you actually put words to what was going on.

Of course. Of course it wasn’t over, because why would you ever get to have anything for yourself? Why would you ever get to just rest? For the first time in… who even knows how long, you sob hysterically into the sleeves of your hoodie.

A galaxy twinkles in the outer shell of your universe, lighting up the zig-zag sign on your chest. Mallek’s lazy smile fills your thoughts. If at all possible, everything hurts even more, until you can’t even cry to let out the pain.

Did he miss you? Did all of them miss you?

Oh, God, Daraya. You promised her you’d take her to Earth sometime, and then you just totally fucking vanished from the face of Alternia. What a fucking dick move. Granted, you hadn’t meant to do it, but still!

Your traitor-asshole brain reminds you of the fact that all of them are dead now. As in, Tyzias tried to lead a rebellion against the Alternian Empire, and then they all got killed. Your traitor-asshole brain also notes that it’s all your fault for encouraging those kinds of ideas.

Way to go, you absolute tool.

Except… they don’t have to be gone. You are the Guardian of your universe, and you make the rules. It feels so wrong to even think about it, but… yeah. You’re basically a god now. You can do what you want and nobody has the power to stop you.

Which brings about a whole new plethora of fuckery. If you were to go back, if you were to rewrite history… are you any better than Ultimate Dirk? Granted, you’d do it out of love, not because you’re a power-hungry bastard, but still. Shenanigans of this level are not to be taken lightly, even by sad Guardians with absolutely nothing better to do.

You sleep on it, which of course results in you waking up bawling like a baby as you remember the best roleplay sesh of your life, which was when Wanshi proudly gave your Soldier Purrbeasts OC her full name: Twinklemoon. You had a Soldier Purrbeasts OC named Twinklemoon. That’s why you were crying.

That’s it. You couldn’t stand it anymore.

You need advice, and you know exactly where to get it.

<>

You find her on the 8rigantine, furiously scribbling something down on a chart with a bunch of little figurines in the middle of it. You know better than to just haul your little friendslut ass up there while Vriska Serket is in the zone, so instead you knock on the hull and call up to her.

“Hello! Lady Spinneret, an old friend is in dire need of some advice!”

It takes about two seconds for a familiar spiky head to poke over the side of the deck. Vriska’s one dark eye lights up upon meeting your gaze, followed by a toothy grin that’s both menacing and completely genuine. She reaches back to grab something behind her. A rope ladder drops down and nearly nails you in the noggin, just like it did whenever you dropped by to FLARP with her.

“What the hell, bitch! I missed you!” she yells. Despite everything, you can’t help but smile. Vriska’s wild personality and no-bullshit attitude was just what you needed.

You’re very proud of yourself when you scale the ladder with ease and scramble up onto the deck without getting too much out of breath. With the amount of insane shit you’ve gotten yourself into during your travels, getting into shape came pretty easily. You’ve been told by several reliable sources that your legs are to die for.

“The 8-ball foretold your arrival. I brought snacks.” Vriska points to a bag next to her chart, not looking up from where she was drawing an impressively detailed kraken-looking thing. “Eat something before you start gabbing.”

That was sound logic, so you drag the back closer to you and start rooting around for something good. You find a bag of stinkroot chips, open that bad boy up, and start munching. Damn, did it feel good to eat something, and to also have a corporeal body to eat things with.

As you gather your thoughts, the hairs on the back of your neck prickle with the sensation of somebody’s eyes on you. You instantly look up to see Vriska staring at you. Her expression is blank, but her good eye held all the energy of a thunderstorm.

You swallow your chips. “What is it?”

“You look… different,” she says, setting down her pencil. “It’s like I can really see you now.”

“Huh?”

Vriska huffs, but she still doesn’t take her eye off you. “Before, you kinda looked like… I dunno, like somebody cut out a whole in reality and shoved the silhouette of a person inside? Like, I know what you looked like, but I couldn’t tell you the color of your hair, or what facial structure you have, or, like… dude, you have freckles.”

“I have freckles?” You reach up and touch your cheekbone, feeling the soft skin. Oh, hey, there’s some acne. Dammit. “Are they cute?”

“Sure? I think freckles are more of a human thing, so you’d have to ask John or Jade or whatever. Also you’re blonde, like Rose,” she tells you, thoughtfully scratching at her chin. “You’re still short as fuck, though. I could probably punt you off the poop deck.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Congrats on not looking like a hole in reality.”

You finish off your chips and flop back to stare at the night sky. With all the time you’ve spent on Alternia, you can now name a lot of the constellations. Right now, the Empress’s Trident poked up at a forty-five degree angle behind the pink moon. “I think I know how we can overthrow the Alternian Empire.”

Vriska’s pencil falls out of her hand.

You continue. “Have you read any records on a rebellion that occurred about… like, fifteen sweeps ago? I don’t know the exact date.”

Vriska’s mouth opens and closes a couple of times, and then she nods. “I sure fuckin’ did. Sollux did some of his mumbo-jumbo and got me some documents. He called it an early wriggling day present, but I know he wants to help my little… agenda. How do you even know…?”

“Because I helped encourage the right people to do it. I was there, Vriska. Those kids were my friends, and now they’re dead.”

She’s silent for a moment. “The leader was a teal named Tyzias.”

Your eyes are hot with tears. “I knew her. We met because she tripped on the sidewalk while carrying a shitload of her homework, and I helped her pick it all up when it went everywhere. She had a matesprit named-”

“Stelsa,” Vriska mutters. “Holy shit. She worked closely with some jades who lead their little army. They caused a hell of a lot of damage to the Empire before it all went down, I’ll give them that.”

Neither of you speak for a long moment, which you appreciate as you try and hold your messy self together. The longer you think about your old friends and all the good times you had with them, the more you’re certain about what you want to do.

They deserve to be here.

Your blood pressure spikes just thinking about it.

It’s Vriska who puts your thoughts into words. “You want to go back and help them win the rebellion.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s fucking crazy.”

“Yeah.”

She scooches over to you so she can stare down into your soul. “If we combine our resources and collaborate back and forth between the past and the future, we can make it so less people die. We could even take out that pathetic bitch of an Heiress they had back in the day. With your powers…”

“It’s possible I could compact time itself to create a world where we… where we can make things right. We could even help Feferi…”

You can’t bring yourself to say it in case you jinxed something, but by the look on Vriska’s face, she knows what you mean.

“It could work,” she breathes.

Slowly, you sit back up. Your heart was pounding so hard you felt it in your skull. “How do you think the others would feel about it?”

“Oh, they’d shit themselves,” Vriska snorts. “A full-scale rebellion across time and space?”

“True.”

“But it could work!” she repeats, staring into empty space.

“And they’d have a huge advantage they never had before. Me,” you say, talking to yourself more than to Vriska. You’d created this universe with your own power. It was time to protect it. “Vriska, I need to go before I chicken out. Tell the others what’s happening and that I’m sorry if this all goes to shit.”

“Wait!”

You look back at her as she grabs your arm, claws digging into the fabric of your hoodie. “I… you need supplies. No frickin’ way you’re going anywhere without at least a hydration flask.”

You know what she’s trying to say, and your chest fills up with all the warmth of a bonfire. God, you love this absolute bitch of a kid.

Vriska drags you to your feet, and then you’re both sprinting for her hive.

Amazingly, you don’t die trying to keep up with the cerulean as you charge up the stairs to her respiteblock together. You’re still out of breath by the time you reach the top, though, but Vriska’s already grabbing a backpack and tossing shit into it.

“Get me that jacket off the door,” she orders as she tosses in what looks like a small medical kit. You obey and throw her the jacket, the black leather one with the bright red hood.

She then waves you over, and you slip around her desk to see what’s up. In her hands is a black sheath, with a matching handle sticking out at the top.

Vriska pulls the sheath off to reveal the blade: a brilliant silver-blue metal that nearly glowed in the darkness. It’s incredibly beautiful and very scary to look at.

“I’ve had this thing forever, so I’m giving it to you, okay? Don’t fucking lose it. Press that little gray button at the top of the handle to heat up the blade. Good for starting fires and cauterizing wounds.” She shoves the jacket into the backpack and hands you the dagger.

“Vriska, I don’t know what to say,” you begin, but she smacks you.

“Shut up and strap it to your belt. You better come back soon. I want a detailed report on everything. Single-spaced,” she snaps.

You grin. “Yes, ma’am. I should be back, in like, ten nights. Maybe eleven.”

“Ten,” Vriska growls. “I’m coming for your ass otherwise.”

“Noted. Tell everybody I said hi.”

“Obviously.”

You reach into that little part of yourself, which in turn reaches back out into that chaotic river that is the flow of time. You throw the anchor down and wade upstream. It’s a little rougher than usual, but you won’t let that stop you. There was no turning back now.

Time travel is always like trying to hit a moving target, but you have great aim, and when you find what you’re looking for you feel your face split into another huge smile. There’s nothing different about this part of the river than any other, but you know. When it comes to the people you care about, you always know.

Everything feels more real to you than it has in years. Two moons shine even brighter in the sky, the chilly air stinging your face, and you’re no troll but it still feels like you’re going home.

You open your eyes.

“Ten nights,” you say to Vriska, and you let yourself fall through the current.

[thestanhoe]

Jeronica headcanon

They will hate each other. It’ll be fierce and tense, and they’d be so beside themselves with literal hatred of the other that they can’t bear to be in each other’s vicinity without making snide insulting comments. They just have this intense need to make the other snap, to pick apart at everything, from their dress to their ideas to their general intellect, and the thought of being on the same page makes them feel genuinely sick.

This hatred will get so fierce it’ll start to get hot, very hot, and it’ll build up into a sort of heated sexual tension that leads to them kissing (which I guess has just happened but whatever this shit would happen in my universe too and it would be better too because there’d be more fucking tongue amen) and now they’re like fuck. They won’t really know what to do about this situation and they’re very confused at their escapades, their wandering hands and eyes shut and the noises they were making and they got pretty into it until one pushes the other away. Hot.

Veronica decides to ignore it. And Jughead decides to ignore her. But that’s not surprising. Nothing flusters Miss Veronica Lodge. And nothing throws Jughead off his course. Every time Betty tries to bring it up he shuts her down. He doesn't want to think about how he just kissed the girl he hates so much. And liked it.

Betty is whining again. About almost everything she can, and even though Jughead is a whiner as well, it’s starting to grate on him. She’s getting more and more full on, and the thought of her wanting to join the serpents for true now is giving him this feeling of discomfort he can’t place. The kids were all in this gang because they had no other family - they had to build their own. She was just here for the fun of it it seemed, and he couldn’t wrap his head around it. He liked his space, but he was getting less and less of it.

Veronica is uncomfortable. With everything. It makes it worse when Jughead bursts into Archie’s room while she’s in the middle of a make-out sesh and her tongue is down his best bud’s throat. They lock eyes. And by god he looks so hot all flushed and stunned in his leather jacket and beanie falling off his head. He leaves with a stumble and a rushed apology that leaves Archie and Veronica laughing for two completely different reasons.

Veronica knows that Archie is hiding things from her, and she’d trying to give him all the chances in the world to tell her them. He wouldn’t be acting so off if they didn’t involve her. If he managed to tell her about him and Betty so quickly, surely he could spill whatever else seemed to be bothering him.

Veronica is beginning to find fighting Jughead difficult. It wasn’t so hard before, when she hated him. He was her match and it made things fun that he could seemingly handle everything she was throwing at him and be able to deliver just as well. Now, though, she just felt bad. She was fond of the guy, she couldn’t not admit it. And everyday, she just found more and more similarities between the pair. Trying to run him from his own home seemed pretty sour now, even for New York Veronica.

Fighting is scrapped pretty quickly. They just can’t hack it. So instead, they start devising plans. All manner of plans. They will somehow figure out a way to stop this dumb fight and find a balance both parties will be happy with. Long hours at Pops are spent with the two of them bent over notes and speaking in hushed voices about the fate of their little town. They agree that these meet ups are strictly business, professional attitudes only and nothing less. That doesn’t stop Veronica’s leg from rubbing against his a little too often, and it doesn’t stop Jughead’s eyes from tracing her features whenever he thought she wasn’t looking.

But. The Big But. Spending so much extra time around her is really starting to get to him and sometimes he just finds himself staring at her, just thinking what could be if they weren’t literally separated by the social ties and the raging war between them.

Betty gets suspicious of Jughead with all his late night excursions. She knows he’s with Veronica, she just doesn’t trust him, which sets Jughead off and he has a go at her. He’s never done anything out-rightly wrong, yet she’s all over him as if he’s committing crimes and hardcore cheating when all he wants is Veronica’s help to save the serpents and their living situations. He’s mad because Betty never trusts him, yet she’ll get mad when he doesn’t trust her - and that is few and far between. He’s mad because their relationship is strained and draining. He’s mad because he’s falling fast for The Raven Haired Princess of the Northside. 

Toxic. That’s the word he spits at her when she breaks up with him. She’s toxic company and in desperate need of mental assistance. He’s almost glad that she’s doing this, it’s a relief. He can breathe, and she’s no longer got anyone to crawl down their throat to try and control. And thank fuck he’ll never see that god awful wig in bed again (it was really hard to keep it up when she put it on). Veronica, surprisingly is the one to console the guy. He shrugs her off. In the morning, he’d be fine.

Veronica learns the truth about her dad. And Archie’s internship. She drops them both simultaneously and when her and Jughead next meet up he can sense the negative energy, and asks what the problem is. She tells. And cries. And he comforts. He moves round to sit by her and lets her cry into his shoulder.

Unlike what they both want, there’s no emotionally distressed make out sessions and starved touches. No, instead there’s body wracking sobs and long, finger digging hugs and running makeup and discarded beanies. They end up spending the night in Jughead’s car, neither of them wanting to see anyone else but each other.

It was official. They’d fell.

[aliceellablog]

I’M BACK BITCHEZZZZ!!!

Hello you lot!!!

So as I’m sure you noticed, (NAAAAT!!!) I didn’t manage to do my blog last week- usually this would have been because I wasn’t feeling up to it… but you’ll never guess what!? It was actually because I was too damn busy working and having a good time!!

WHAT THE ACTUAL F**K?!

Ok… so my last two weeks has been bladdy brilliant compared to where I’ve been at recently!!!

Not gonna lie, I’m still so so far away from where I want to be and being able to do what I want to be able to do… but I really can honestly say that I feel like I am getting there.

So I started the week with a couple of days of studio sessions with Warren and Scott (who are amazing by the way!) We are working on some J-pop tracks and if they get cut (if the people we are writing them for actually want them) then it’s like the biggest deal ever!!!! My fingers toes and flaps are tightly crossed!! We wrote probably one of the best pop song I’ve ever written and I haven’t stopped singing it all day every day… around the house… and on the bus… and down the street…LOVE IT!!

So J-pop is like the poppiest pop ever, on acid! The melodies have to keep changing, hook after hook after hook!! It’s such a challenge because I keep wanting to make it ‘cooler’ but this ain’t about being cool that’s for sure!!

So we got that song written and recorded and now it’s time for the waiting game!

Wednesday was something I’d been looking forward to for ages!! BRUNO MARS AT THE O2 ARENA! Swooooooon!!

I’d really worried a few times that I wouldn’t be able to go, and had a lil crying sesh that mid afternoon as I didn’t feel up to it, but pulled it together and managed to go.

I got a cab there to cut down on how much walking there was to do and I met one of my best friends Danielle there. We went for dinner first- there was a huge queue and the manager said it would be a good 45 min wait in that queue- I told her that I had ME and couldn’t stand up for that long and couldn’t believe what happened… she believed me!! Without hesitation!!

One of the hardest things is how 'well’ I look when I can be feeling so ill and weak inside. So we were allowed straight in meaning I could sit down before the show which made a huge difference :)

I think my legs aching is probably (other than the general lack of energy) the worst symptom I have. I usually find I have been standing up only a few minutes before they start aching and burning and so I’m constantly looking for places to sit and ways to avoid these situations. Man I hope that changes soon!!!!

Danielle and I had a lovely catch up and talked about EVERYTHING… and no I’m not gonna tell ya what ;) ;) but maybe one day I’ll be writing all my secrets in this thing! Who knows!!

Then we went into the gig and ofcourse we were so high up we thought we were going to fall to our deaths, and Bruno was the size of and ant… and looked even shorter than usual ;)

It’s quite funny, Danni had just had an operation and obviously I’m not great on me feet for long so we were both sat there looking like the most boring bitches you’ve ever seen!! We did manage a little step dig now and again though and Bruno was truly amazing. So inspirational. Whenever I’m in that place I always have a moment when my mind wanders and I imagine what it would be like to stand on that stage and perform in front of so many people. It makes me feel so strong and for some reason I really do believe it’s going to happen. I have to believe that. Dream big right??

Anyway gig done and I went to get my pre booked cab… note the tone… oh shit, there is no tone… well it’s a real bad tone ok!

Was the cab in the designated cab area? No… I called him and he said he was at the bus station, so in the freezing cold I walked 10 mins to go and find him there.

Was he there? Nah…

Then he said he’d driven to the original taxi place- he hadn’t…

Long cold boring emotional story short he was no where to be seen and by this time I was crying down the phone to him and trying to explain where I was- why does the O2 arena have to be so damn massive?!

Eventually an hour later after sobbing down the phone to my friends and having a panic attack I decided to book another cab….it was then that I just happened to stumble across the right cab and so I got in. LONG!

Fuck I was moody. I mean… I was crying and he tried to laugh it off. Not funny you wanker!!!

I explained that the whole reason I pre booked a cab was because I have a disability and knew I’d be knackered after the gig and couldn’t do the trains home… he SO didn’t get it.

I’ve complained and asked for my money back but not heard anything yet. Thanks Carlton Cars.

So after that night of crying, panic attacks, being bloody freezing and walking around for an hour I was a mess the next day.

I spent most of it in bed but managed to go out for some food in the eve with one of my bestests :)

To be honest usually after what had happened I’d be stuck in bed / at home for a week- so this was actually a good result!!

(I had a pork belly roast and my oh my that pig was good!! - sorry vegetarians!!!)

The next couple of days I was back to the studio to record the lead vocals for my next next single!!! EEEEEEK!!!! My god this means the absolute world to me!!!

So I released my first single 'Summer Sun’ around two years ago now-

Somehow I ended up releasing a kind of soul ballad, which isn’t really my ‘sound’ at all… but I love the song and it just kinda happened and snowballed! But at the time my plan was to follow that straight up with the next single-  and another, and another etc etc but that’s when I had the ME relapse of all relapses… yeeeeeaaaaa… 'Summer Sun’ was really just to put the feelers out and was a learning process I guess, but now two years later I actually feel (almost) ready to release the next one!

It’s called ‘24 Obsession’ and I wrote it when I first met my now ex boyfriend who I was with for 2 and a half years. It’s kinda funny how these things happen as now that I’m in the promo stages of the song, I kinda can’t stop thinking about him all over again… it’s a looong story, and I don’t want this blog to be about my love life as to me that’s too personal… so that’s all you’re gonna get for now!! But I don’t know what I’m doing or what to do and love is tricky as… heart… head… what the fuck?!

ANYWAY!!! So '24 Obsession’ is all wrapped up, the video has been filmed and edited, remixes done and artwork done!! YAAAASSSS!! So while the label promote the remixes I’m working on the next single that’s going to follow that one!!!

I’m trying so hard for what happened last time not to happen again! I want to try and get a bit of momentum going and release some of the songs I’ve been working on for years as soon as I can!

So I got the lead vocals recorded and am finishing off the backing vocals etc next week!! EXCITING!!! It’s sounding so good and I just can’t wait to get it aaaaaat!! :)

At the moment I’m realising that I CAN feel 'ok’ sometimes…I never feel 'good’ but I can live with that. If can just make this 'ok’ patch last, last longer than it’s ever lasted before (last forever please) that would be nice.

I think I’m just so used to feeling so rubbish all the time, when I actually don’t feel too bad it’s the best thing ever!

Having said that, I’m still pretty fragile in a lot of ways - just yesterday I was round someone’s house I hadn’t met before and we were going to go for a coffee (which I didn’t feel up for doing in the first place but because I was with other friends I felt like I kinda had to) It was a 10 minute walk to the cafe and of course for her it wasn’t a big deal at all… I had already traveled for two hours that day which involved walking around the train stations etc and my legs were shot. I said that I would just get a cab and that I’d pay for it and tried to make it sound casual but she was all like 'hahaha oh my god you’re so lazy it’s like just up the road!’ hahaha… yea… not funny… I then had to say that I had health issues (even though I’m writing this on here for the world to see, in real life I don’t bring it up or like to go into it unless I have to, or someone asks me) anyway she still didn’t really get it and they were just like 'come on let’s all just walk’… so again I started getting panicky and crying and it was all pretty awkward. We ended up getting a cab but I was so embarrassed by the whole thing. Meh.

I still have to put my health first and am learning how difficult that is when you’re around other people a lot- I’ve spent so much time recently at home or by myself where I can rest when I need to and do everything in my own little routine, but that’s so hard when you’re staying with people. The particular studio I work at the most is a two hour journey so I have to stay over the night before and then the night after the session too to split up the traveling and the work. So it’s like three days to do one days work. Ah well!

Last night because I was at staying at the studio again, long story short it meant I didn’t get to eat any dinner until 11pm…. things like that just don’t work for me but I wasn’t able to go home or even go to the shops as this place is in the middle of nowhere. Oh and I didn’t sleep AT ALL the night before - I struggle with insomnia a lot- so was already in a bit of a state and had worked in the studio all that day! EEEK! I think people just don’t quite understand how important things like that are. I do try and explain but they just think I’m being demanding or over dramatic, but food is energy and if I’m not getting that I’m so much worse! And with my Crohn’s disease (oh yea I have that too…) what I eat and when makes a huge difference. 

Maybe I’m not quite ready to be doing as much as I am but I’m so god damn desperate to live my life!!! I just want to make music, sing, and of course be happy!!! Maybe that’s a little while longer off… but I still do feel like I’m making good progress. I just HATE how careful I have to be- why is it that I have an illness where the more determined you are, therefore the more you push yourself and the more you do the worse you get? Typical!

Anyway… I’m sure I’ll figure it out! Maybe by my next blog… AS IF!! ;)

Corrr, that was a long one (that’s what she said) but if you did actually read that and wanna get in touch PLEASE DO :)

Huge love and hugs to anyone out there who’s suffering. Life is so hard and everyone is struggling with something. Be open about it and you never know just who else is fighting a similar battle :) Let’s all be there for each other and make life that bit more bearable eh! Xx

[sweetsuccesssociety]

Why We Can’t Just Press Our Reset Button

Ahh, it feels so wonderful to be back on the blog!! This past week Erin and Daynna opened up about their successful mindset breakthroughs and journeys, and it’s truly been so inspiring and uplifting that I’ve hardly thought of anything else since. (Watch their videos and see what all the buzz is about over on our Facebook page when you get the chance!)

With that said, I have to admit that sometimes I don’t even know where or how to begin my own storytelling process because I’m having difficulty forming my thoughts into written sentences—or even stringing them into one cohesive thought to rally around a focus. A piece of writing with a message. That’s when I recognize just how important it is to write it all out in order to come to an inner understanding. It’s always been my ground point of personal reflection; my kick starter to a regroup sesh with myself.

So please excuse me if today’s post is a little off the beaten path of what I typically discuss on Sweet Success Society. I honestly haven’t opened up like this with you before, but I feel like it should be shared because as I sat with my fingers hovering over the keyboard for days, it finally dawned on me that this feeling is part of life and definitely not uncommon. On the contrary, I bet it’s more common than any of us would like to admit… but we don’t want to talk about it, or—even worse—admit it to our audience.

Actually, let me rephrase that. We don’t like to admit it to our audience until we have a fully executed solution. Which I don’t have today—today, it seems all I have are comforting words that you aren’t alone. I’m not alone. Not much of a “how-to” post… more of an open dialogue with you lovelies. But hey, it’s what’s been on my mind.

Have you ever said to yourself, “Damn, it’s time to push the reset button”? Where you feel it’s past due to get back on track with healthy eating, exercise, work productivity, connecting with loved ones—you know, for anything (and everything) in life. You know you’re capable of it, but realize you need to give yourself that mental push into actual commitment and, subsequently, take fucking action (to put it bluntly).

Well, that’s exactly how I was feeling. I was so pumped up to “press the reset button” and take dramatic action toward bettering my lifestyle and shaping it to be what I want and expect of it. So I started my favorite 30-Day Cleanse, rededicated to my own 4-Week Habits for Success Challenge, and had so much momentum to reorganize and align my life with my expectations for it.

Several weeks later, I looked back on this “reset” and my first thought was that I failed myself. I wasn’t consistently spending all the countless hours I intended in my new home office (that may be a floating desk under the stairs). I had a few cleanse cheat days from our travels in Sonoma and San Francisco, then a few more when my parents came to visit, and then a few more because, well, why not at this rate? I wasn’t exercising like I intended and even got out of the rhythm of yoga every evening before bed.

I beat myself up over not feeling like a rock star day in and day out. Which only made it worse because I’d see my confidence shrink as I retreated into the shadows. The days slipped into several weeks of hiding from my abandoned intentions and I questioned my ability to be more than just… mediocre and going through the motions. Seriously guys, I felt ashamed that I wasn’t living by my own standards.

And yes, apparently I am that dramatic.

So maybe every day didn’t wrap up with me feeling like my own version of a rock star. It’s not like I was doing nothing—one of my prominent achievements was becoming more social again, which was an element drastically missing from my life until recently. Three months ago, I genuinely sobbed to my (rather confused) boyfriend about how lonely I felt without a solid group of girl friends. He lovingly told me to, essentially, do something about it—and, well, I did.

But despite that, I kept focusing on what was lacking and the promises I made myself that were so sincere before gradually hollowing out. The phrase, “Life’s a rollercoaster” is absurdly true—and that absolutely goes for our mindsets in addition to life’s circumstances. We have our brilliant, on-point times (our rock star phases), and then other times in which we’re a little more all over the place, or we place our accidentally focus on other aspects of life that aren’t aligned with our individual expectations of daily productivity and success.

Which brings me back to this magical reset button. When we’re not rock stars every day all day, we tell ourselves we need to make a change and immediately jump to the explanation that it’s time for a reset. I’ve used the term pretty loosely for so long, and as I began to tell myself (again) that I need to just press it harder this time around, a big red flag went up.

Come on, Lexi, you know better than that.

As I reflected on what I have and have not accomplished recently, I came to the realization that it’s not necessarily about “setting a reset button.” Improving ourselves does not happen overnight, as I knew before, so the hell was I using the word as if it was?

Instead of the concept of a “reset,” perhaps it’s more of a “regroup.” Instead of stewing in our thoughts until we can’t take it anymore and mentally slam the button for a quick fix solution… it’s that recognition of expanding our minds and breaking the circular pattern our thoughts are wrapped in.

Like what I consider my most destructive pattern. I’d open my computer and—literally—stare at it. The seconds became minutes, and without really knowing what to tackle first, I’d get lost in the familiar “feed scroll.” And that’s pretty much how it went for a few weeks.

Like for Sweet Success Society, the transformation we’ve experienced as a team, as a business, and as a brand has really been inspiring. And to be honest, I’ve been a bit on the sidelines the past few weeks. When I’d open my computer and try to map out alllll the things that need to get done (because, hello, this is a fully functioning business and of course there’s always a million things to do, I’m preachin’ to the choir!), I was getting lost in all the wrong things.

I needed to change my patterns, beginning with my mindset and how I approached the very things that I define as daily successful living. That’s not a reset of the mind, it’s a regroup.

As a whole, regrouping is figuring out how to go back to the basics. We get so stuck in the weeds of the overwhelming amount of tasks (big and small) that require our attention, simultaneously with the frantic feeling of “OH MY GOD THIS NEEDS TO GET DONE RIGHT NOW.”

This past weekend, instead of diving into all the little details that I shoulda woulda coulda been working on over the past few weeks (in other words: catching up), I decided to focus on my mindset. That’s where the real struggle comes in, and pretending it is actually about the tasks at hand is, to put it simply, a sneaky form of procrastination. I needed to nurture my mind. Take some time to regroup my thoughts, my actions, and my behaviors to transform them into a cohesive mindset that produces results. I had to kick my butt into productivity mode, and the first step was getting my mind organized, excited, and proactive before jumping head first into the sea of endless tasks.

So I’m breaking the pattern of the past few weeks with a few simple mix-ups. For instance, I listen to audiobooks on repeat out of comfort and decided that instead of re-listening Game of Thrones around the clock, to sneak in some TedTalks. So what’d I do? Download the app (umm, which is amazing and I highly recommend!) and add 86 TedTalks to my queue, and it didn’t require a grocery trip.

I’ve also felt so uninspired to stick with my usual healthy eating habits. As an effort to regroup with the healthy living, I took stock of our fridge and pantry and made a list of what was available to eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner from what we have. I haven’t wondered what to eat for the next meal since.

Recognizing and acknowledging our setbacks is one thing, but actively making a difference to progress is quite another. Take a deep breath and remember everything is not going to change overnight, but it starts with that small act of setting yourself up for success. Get back on track by organizing your resources to give yourself that breathing room and ability to journey on up to the top of that rollercoaster again. Regrouping begins with the mindset gaining its confidence.

Hell, I’d even consider this blog post to be its own form of regrouping. I needed to go back the basics by simply getting back to writing and out of my head. That’s what helps me best and I know that about myself.

Thank you for reading, loves! ❤️

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