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victoriareyloficlists · 3 years

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17 April 2021 Additions to Reylo Roommates/Neighbors

These fics have been added to the Roommates/Neighbors list located here.

Neighbors

Out on the Moonlit Floor by SpaceWaffleHouseTM (AO3 2021 Rated E Complete, 5 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben was born with a peculiar ability — anybody he kisses will instantly fall in love with him. He’s never wanted to kiss anyone as much as he wants to kiss Rey. But he can’t kiss her because he knows her love wouldn’t be right. Wouldn’t be real. Wouldn’t be true.) just say you love me by darthswift13 (AO3 2021 Rated M Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: In which Rey gets drunk on Saturday nights and confesses her true feelings for her roommate Ben, only to forget on Sunday mornings. Will Rey ever be able to confess her feelings when sober?) Seize The Night by CallMeHopeless (IAmNotBread) (AO3 2021 Rated E Complete, 2 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Being stuck in quarantine with your housemate isn't all that bad. And the way he sneaks glances at you? Well: that's even better.) The Road Taken by gogoburritos (AO3 2020 Rated M Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey pulls a prank on her housemate Ben. She doesn't expect it to turn out so well.) Loose Change by spicytofuuuu (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: "I ate your pizza. It was a desperate move. I'm sorry. Not proud of myself. Here is $4." An Oh-My-God-They-Were-Roommates, They-Have-One-Single-Shared-Brain-Cell fic.) Daydreams at Night by commandercrouton (AO3 2020 Rated G Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey has a nightmare and goes to Ben for comfort) r/Relationships by elle_reads (AO3 2020 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben's new roommate moves in just before a shelter-in-place order is issued. It's just the two of them—and Reddit, of course.) The Sublet by javajunkie (AO3 2020 Rated M Complete, 5 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey and Rose sublet their spare room to Ben Solo.) Good Fences Make Lonely Roommates by Morlemia_R (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, 7 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: For the past five months, Rey and Ben have successfully managed to avoid each other (and their feelings) by spending most of their time outside their new, shared apartment. However, after COVID-19 forces everyone to stay home, the two may finally have to confront what they've been running from.) maybe we're from the same star Chapter 4 by INTPSlytherin_reylove97 (AO3 2018 Rated M Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Living together was supposed to be easy. Another person to help with the kids, they already spent most of their free time together anyways.) When You Know It by Blueyedgurl (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, 2 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben finds out his roommate Rey has never had someone to celebrate valentine's with, so he sends her 25 roses, one for every year she's been alone, in attempt to make her feel better.) Port in the storm by Blueyedgurl (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, 2 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey pretends to be afraid of thunderstorms so she has an excuse to sleep next to Ben. Ben figures it out when he races home early after seeing thunder, fearing Rey will be crying alone curled up in a ball, only to find her totally chill and eating ice cream.) Tinder and Cinder by Blueyedgurl (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey joins tinder after a long long dry spell due to her flatmate Kylo's derision, they argue about why and in a fit of jealousy Kylo screams out 'use me instead.') Traditions gotta start somewhere by Blueyedgurl (AO3 2020 Rated G Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Christmas Tree vignettes of Rey and Ben over the course of their relationship.) heaven in hiding by blessedreylo (AO3 2021 Rated E Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: They say it's impossible for a guy and girl to be "just friends", but Rey and Ben had managed to discredit that throughout their decade long friendship. What they both have is special, that people would often arrive at the conclusion the two were made for each other. He's her safe haven, her rock. She gives him a sense of clarity and direction. Ben and Rey know each other more than anyone ever possibly could. Therefore on Valentine's Day, their friends decided to secretly set them up together on a blind dinner date.) Eggplant Emoji by trasharama (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, 5 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: A desperate Rey seeks refuge in Poe and Ben's spare bedroom. Ben didn't know she was a girl when he agreed to the roommate trial period--and now she won't stop sexting him? Climb aboard the Smutty McSmuttSmutt train!)

Roommates

maybe we're from the same star Chapter 3 by INTPSlytherin_reylove97 (AO3 2018 Rated M Complete, One-Shot, Witchy AU, Quick Synopsis: There were three unspoken rules when it came to living in the non-magic, ehm, mortal world. 1. Make sure your familiar does not run off with other animals. They need to be your companion, not some mutt or strays fling. 2. Keep in contact with the magical world in some way, on a weekly basis if possible—even if it is through a cheesy crystal ball your mother bought you as a hundred year birthday present because those were the cool forms of communication at the time. 3. Never let an outsider see you perform magic. Simple, easy, basic rules. Simple, easy, basic rules Ben had been able to follow for the last two hundred years. Until she moved in next door. A Witches AU.) Neighborly by Blueyedgurl (AO3 2020 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey and her son move into a new apartment and meets her new neighbor Ben and his cute dog.) In Small Packages by DyadamDriver (AO3 2018 Rated G Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: It was then that Ben realised three things. 1. He had never had a cat in his life. 2. He had no idea what these little things ate. 3. He had a crippling crush on his neighbour.) fueled by fire by blessedreylo (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, 2 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben annoys the hell out of Rey when he tries to write passive aggressive notes about where she leaves her stuff. Rey pisses Ben off by being loud and picking a fight whenever she wants. Being neighbors for the last five months has been interesting to say the least. Their little rivalry comes to a crescendo when their hate for each other turns into another kind of passion.)

#roommate #reylo #reylo fanfic #rey #kylo ren #ben solo

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petertingle-yipyip · 4 years

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Why Pt 2 - Sweet Pea

// Part One // Highly requested: see tags below to know by who//

//Tags: @southsidearchive @wayward-river @reblogserpent @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @nicole13letson // Warnings: Mild language, angst, underage drinking //

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Reader

Word Count: 2,211

Summary: Y/N and Sweet Pea both want to same thing, but both are hurting because of the other. Can they find common ground to build a relationship or will they let it all go?

You didn’t know how much time passed between the last time you talked to Sweet Pea, that night where he stood in your trailer and said he was wrong. In all the years you knew Sweet Pea, you had only heard him apologize to Fangs the night he got shot. Sweet Pea apologized even though it wasn’t his fault. The only difference between then and now was that this actually was his fault.

Despite what time passed, you didn’t feel better. If anything, you felt worse. It seemed like now that you two were definitely not talking, you saw him more and more. FP tried to send you two on runs together, but he managed to wiggle his way out of it. Your teachers tried to partner you together but you convinced them otherwise. If you knew Sweet Pea was going to be at a hangout, you’d suddenly feel sick and couldn’t make it.

Maybe it was extreme. Maybe it was unnecessary. But every time you saw him, you got a tight feeling in your chest. You couldn’t tell if you were sad, angry, or lonely.

He was the one to talk to you first. You were at a party outside Jughead’s trailer. You couldn’t remember what it was for. You weren’t even sure anyone told you. All you cared about was free beer.

“Y/N.” His voice came from behind you. You turned so quick you nearly spilled your drink. “Are you alright?”

“No.” You hiccuped. “You wanna know a secret?”

“You’re drunk.” He sighed in disappointment.

“Nooo.” You smiled lazily. “I’m actually ho-“ You tried sliding your free hand under his shirt, but quickly caught your wrist.

“We’re not doing this.” He shook his head.

“You didn’t mind last time.” You slurred, attempting a wink.

“Sounds like you had enough.” He said gently, pulling the cup from your fingers and putting it on a nearby table. “Let’s get you home.”

“Only if you’re staying.”

“You actually want me around?”

“No.” You giggled. “But you’re reeeeeeally good looking and I want to forget.”

Sweet Pea sighed gently, discarding his own drink so he could focus on helping you. He slid an arm around your waist as he guided you to your own trailer. He could smell the beer on your breath and had to stop every few steps to get your back on your feet. You muttered nonsense about being mad still but Sweet Pea couldn’t tell if you were ranting about him since you kept complaining about a snake that rode a giraffe, “a giraffe with snakes on its back” was your exact words.

Sweet Pea helped you into bed, removing your jacket and shoes. You managed to get out of your jeans, but absolutely refused your pajama shorts. You whined for him to stay, pursing your bottom lip and tugging on his hand. But Sweet Pea said he wasn’t going to stay, that it wouldn’t be right for him to stay while you were wasted.

You huffed in annoyance, rolling around so you wouldn’t face him anymore. You loudly complained about him abandoning you again, yelled that you still weren’t enough for him. Soon after your beer-fueled tantrum, you were asleep. You didn’t know if the daydreams were worse than the regular dreams.

In your dreams, Sweet Pea was everything you wanted or needed him to be. He was the Serpent that everyone knew him to be, but he was so much more. You had dreams of having dinner dates at Pop’s, late nights at La Bonne Nuit. You had dreams of riding your bikes to Greendale just to get out of town. And there was no way around the dirty dreams, reliving the one night of pure lust and pleasure.

But there was no future between you two, simply because you didn’t feel that Sweet Pea really wanted to be with you romantically.

Sweet Pea knew nothing could be farther from the truth. He wanted to stay with you, to hold you in his arms as you slept. To be there when you woke up with a hangover. But he also recognized that it might not be his place to be there right now. So he called Fangs, asked him to come check in on you in a bit, and went home.

He couldn’t sleep that night, not that he was sleeping much in the 16 days since you last spoke. Sweet Pea hasn’t meant to keep track, but every day he saw you but didn’t talk to you felt like another knife in his heart. He hated that he had messed things up so bad. He hated that he had practically lost you, as a friend and as anything more.

What little sleep he could find was littered with images of you. Things as simple as your smile, your laugh, the way your eyes lit up when you knew the answer in class. Things as sweet as the smell of your perfume, the sound of your favorite song. Things he missed like your fingers running through his hair, his name leaving your lips.

You woke up the next day with a pounding headache. You found two Advil pills and a glass of water on your bedside table. You quickly took the medicine before you pulled a hoodie on along with your shorts. You pulled the hood up and tightened the strings to keep as much sun out as you could. There was a note from Fangs, saying he hoped you had survived and that you had to thank Sweet Pea for getting you home.

You decided not to talk to Sweet Pea, simply for the fact that you didn’t want to open that door again. That door always ended up with you getting hurt. When you slept with him, when you talked to him that night. So, you nursed your hangover while you worked on your lines some more. It was hard to not reach out and at least thank him for getting you home, but you had a feeling that it would invite a conversation that you didn’t want to address at the time

A few nights later, you were with your friends down by the quarry. You were sitting by the water’s edge, your feet dangling in the cool flow. You were laughing at something stupid Toni said when Sweet Pea sat beside you. You had tried to ignore him but when he spoke, your blood ran hot.

“You’re avoiding me.” Sweet Pea said casually, leaning back on his hands. He turned head to you and offered a cheap smile.

You rolled your eyes and laughed slightly. “Oh fuck off. We’ve been avoiding each other for weeks, maybe even months. Why does it bother you now?”

Maybe being cruel was the only way to protect your already hurting heart.

“How have you been?” He ignored your comment.

“Feeling used whenever I see you.” You shrugged, giving in to the deep need to get out all of your pain. “But... And I hate to say it, still missing you. I can't see the end of this, this game we keep playing with each other. We keep doing this stupid run-around and for what?”

“I meant what I said that night, Y/N. We don’t have to play games with each other, not anymore”

“Yeah, I bet you did.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you acting like this?”

“Am I just supposed to flip the switch and act like you’re the love of my life?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Do you honestly think that I haven’t thought about you?” You asked, your eyes squinted in accusation. “Do you honestly think that I could go on like nothing is wrong? I have been thinking and thinking and trying to figure out what I want us to be.”

“What have you been thinking about?”

“I just wanna feel your kiss against my lips and now all this time is passing by, but I still can't seem to tell you why it hurts me every time I see you. I can’t even sleep without the thought of you haunting me.”

“I never should’ve-”

“Apologies aren’t going to change what happened, Sweet Pea.” You sighed. “I get it. You know that what you did wasn’t fair. I appreciate that you’re trying to make things right but I honestly don’t care for your apology.”

“What can I do to make it up to you?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

“Y/N, please.”

“You don't care, you never did!” You said firmly, aggressively pointing to the ground to make a point. “You don't give a damn about me.”

“How is it you never notice that you are slowly killing me?” Sweet Pea snapped, gesturing dramatically to the side with both arms. “Every day that you walk around and ignore me is hell. I know that I fucked up, but goddammit Y/N, how is doing the same thing going to help either of us? I fucking love you and you act like you don’t even know me.”

“Well isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?” You laughed.

“Just tell me the truth, Y/N.” He gave up. Sweet Pea knew he wasn’t helping the situation by egging you on, throwing gas on your fire. So, he stopped fighting. “If you honestly want me to leave you alone, I won’t bring it up again and we’ll go back to pretending neither of us give a shit about each other.”

“I hate you.” You said sadly, shaking your head in denial. You didn’t want to feel the way you did. You didn’t want to hate him, but you had thought if you had said it, you’d mean it.

“You don't mean that.” He said quickly. “Please, tell me you don’t mean that.”

“Sweet Pea, what do you really expect me to say?”

“I love you.” He shrugged. “And I hate that I love you. I hate it because it scares the shit out of me. I didn’t feel like this with Josie so when it came to you, it was all new to me.”

“Is that supposed to make it better?” You asked tiredly. “I ignored you, and maybe that wasn’t fair, but I was reciprocating your energy. You were avoiding me so I didn’t reach out cause I didn’t fucking feel wanted.”

“Last time I tried to talk to you and I told you how I felt, you kicked me out.” He countered. “How’s that for unwanted?”

“We don’t work, Sweet Pea.” You sighed. “You and I… Maybe there just shouldn’t be a you and I.”

“We can make it work.” He tried to convince you. The near pleading tone he had almost made you give in, almost had you convinced that you two could have a chance. “If we both want it, we’ll figure it out.”

“We’ve done nothing but argue since we started talking to each other.” You sighed tiredly. “It’s exhausting.”

“People fight.” He tried to reason.

“Not like this.” You shook your head sadly. “I’m sorry. I just don’t see an outcome where we don’t grow to resent each other.”

“Everything okay over here?” Fangs asked carefully, coming up to the two of you from the water.

“Everything’s great.” You offered a wide, fake smile before jumping to your feet. “I just remembered I have to get home. I think Kevin wanted to Facetime to run some lines together.”

“Y/N, hold on.” Sweet Pea tried. “I’ll walk you home.”

“Don’t bother.” You shook your head. “Let’s just go back to avoiding each other, yeah? That’s how we work best.”

“That’s not fair, Y/N.”

“It’s not fair?” You asked, shrugging slightly. “Tell me about it. Hey Fangs.”

“Please don’t put me in the middle.” He sighed.

“Don’t do this.” Sweet Pea said at the same time.

“Is it fair to sleep with someone, ignore them for weeks, and then come to their house in the middle of the night to apologize and say that they wanted you the whole time but didn’t know how to cope with their own feelings?”

“You two hooked up?” Toni asked, now beside Fangs to watch your resparked argument with Sweet Pea.

“Is it fair to kick that person out and then drunkenly ask them to spend the night because they wanted to ‘forget’? And then the next time they try to talk to you, you tell them you want them still but you don’t think you’d work together?” Sweet Pea added.

“I never asked you to spend the night.” You said defensively.

“That night I took you home.” He said simply. “You said you didn’t want me around. You just wanted to forget.”

“You’re lying.” You shook your head. “I didn’t ask you to stay.”

“Whatever.” He shrugged, sliding from the ledge to the water. “You want to act like this, fine. If this is really the game you wanna play, go ahead.”

“Wait, Pea.” Toni said, following her friend as he headed deeper into the water and away from you.

“What the hell just happened?” Fangs asked you.

You shrugged slightly, putting your hands out to your side before letting them drop dramatically to your sides. “It looks like I just broke up with someone I was never dating.”

#sweet pea x reader #sweet pea riverdale #riverdale #riverdale imagine #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea fic #sweet pea x yn #sweet pea x y/n #sweet pea x you #riverdale fic #southside serpents #riverdale serpents #southside serpents fic

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p-artsypants · 5 years

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Longest Night (24) Shocking

And Marinette had thought Highschool had been hard. Right now, in this moment, she'd give anything to go back to those petty arguments and gossip fueled drama. But she couldn't. Instead, she and Adrien were trapped here, being punished, humiliated, tortured, for being heroes, all broadcasted for the world to see. At least she and her kitty were in this together. For now. Whump!Fic

Ao3 | FF.net

Just as a pleasant reminder: this story will have a happy ending, one that is better than ‘they both died and were free from their suffering’. I wouldn’t do that to you guys.

This chapter, we go back to Marinette and Adrien. There is gross misuse of a needle and thread (Trigger warning), and some shocking revelations (pun intended).

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A small room. Concrete walls, ceiling and floor. A single metal door, with a cold metal table and chair. Illuminated with single flickering lightbulb, casting a sickly yellow light around the surfaces. This kind of room most people would avoid. It offered no comfort, no safety. It held secrets, and no mercy.

To Marinette, it felt like home.

Silence had been a constant companion this last month. Where as Marinette had gotten used to Tikki’s constant presence before, now she was startled by noise. Any noise. She could hear from this dank, secluded room, the sound of water running. Most likely someone else getting a shower.

And the light. There was only an old bulb to illuminate the room, but it was still much too bright for her eyes. So she rested her head in her arms on the table top. The icy water from her power washing still clung to her body, the hospital gown hanging on her turning damp. There was no warmth from the table or chair. Only cold, hard, unforgiving silence.

All there was to do was wait. All there ever was now.

Wait for death.

Something heinous happened in the dark. Every minute of every day, she stewed in fear, in anger, in injustice. The cold bony hand of wrath squeezed her heart, crushing compassion, mercy, and care from her very soul.

No one was coming.

Then she could let them all go. If they were watching, then they could all suffer with guilt.

Sure, she was Ladybug, but she was also a kid. Didn’t that mean anything to anyone? Or were they all expecting her to save herself?

But they had abandoned her. With whatever had happened back at school. The facts were blurry at this point, but she remembered everyone shunning her.

So why would her being Ladybug change anything?

But Adrien…

Her heart softened. He didn’t deserve whatever fate had befallen him. He had fought so hard, so valiantly, there was no blame on him.

He was the only person she could forgive.

But he was gone. And now she alone.

Alone in the silence.

So now the question remained: Dare she save herself?

What kind of life awaited her outside, anyway? What kinds of things were they saying about her?

Ladybug, the failure. The little girl that fooled the whole city. The disgusting pig.

There’d be hell to pay. She’d show Salo what revenge really looked like.

They thought Ladybug was red? She’d give them red.

Marinette sat up slightly, her bangs shielding the light from her eyes. She looked down at her hands.

Bony, dry, callus, and bruised. The hands of a corpse. That’s what she felt like at least. This was some sort of limbo she lived in. Half aware, plotting and calculating her revenge…the other half…twisted. The hallucinations in the cell were so vivid, so real. It was hard to tell the difference between them and what was real.

I’ve gone insane. She insisted in her mind. Normal people didn’t think like this. Normal people didn’t daydream about strangling people with their intestines.

This room was too big. She wanted back in the closet.

The door opened again, Salo and one of her henchmen escorting another prisoner onto the bleak room. They had them by the arm, and all but shoved them into the room before slamming the door shut behind them.

Then suddenly, Marinette wasn’t alone in the silence anymore.

A young man, tall, pale. He was just a skeleton with skin stretched over him. He was incredibly bruised, and his legs were stained with filth. His blonde hair was drenched and also looked stringy and dull.

Did she look like that too? She wondered.

The young man toddled into the room, using the wall for balance.

Then he looked up, and met her eyes.

An impossible green. A green that haunted her for days. The green that accompanied the last echoes of his voice.

My Lady! My Lady!

It was Adrien.

And she hadn’t recognized him.

Marinette bolted from her chair and staggered over to him.

“Kitty?” She whispered, ever so gently.

Tears gathered in his eyes as he reached his one working arm out to caress her face. “My lady?” His whisper was even softer, his voice was gone, and he only spoke with the air in his lungs.

“What have they done to you?” One hand held his cheek, as the other rested on his chest. She could feel his ribs, and the dent in his sternum she had caused with her crowbar.

He didn’t answer, his lips pulling into a thin line.

Adrien leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on her lips. Then he rested his forehead against hers. There was a purr deep down in his chest, a remnant of being the Black Cat for so long. He still only spoke with a breath. “For better or for worse, in sickness and in health. I may have been forced to say that, but I take my vows seriously.”

“Kitty…” She cried, resting her hand on the back of his neck. “I love you so much. I thought…I thought they had killed you by now.”

“They gave it a good shot.” He nuzzled against her. “But as long as I know you’re still with me, I’ll keep fighting.”

Her fingers curled into his skin, her voice dripping with ferocity. “I will never leave you.”

The door opened again, much too soon for both of them, and they clung tighter together.

“Together again for five minutes and you just can’t keep your hands off of each other. Young love…what a joke.” Salo’s voice pierced through their bubble.

Adrien didn’t look up, didn’t give her any attention. His lady was back in his arms, and that’s all that mattered.

“So selfish.” She scoffed. “You two aren’t even interested in the guest I’ve brought?”

Marinette shook her head. She didn’t want to see anyone from outside. They all abandoned her, abandoned them, why should she care?

But Salo had never given them a choice, and so they were dragged back into that big room where evil persisted.

The lights were blinding, and they both had to hide their faces in their arms.

Then they were being chained up, and there was nothing to do but clench their eyes shut and wait until they adjusted.

“What’re the stats, Harken?” Salo asked a corner of the room.

“Over 2 million online. We have some from Japan and Australia tuned in this time too.”

“My my, this is becoming a very big deal.”

Marinette, squinting heavily, peered up and looked around. The room was still pretty bare, save for a wooden chair that sat between her and Adrien.

“You two missed out on so much while you were sleeping. You remember my Eddy, right?”

Neither of them answered, but it was a given. The arrest of Edward Savauge is what had gotten them here in the first place.

“Well, looks like he’s been released on lack of evidence. No witnesses. Sure is interesting, don’t you think?”

Marinette rolled her eyes. It really wasn’t the surprising. It just sucked that their effort of bagging him had gone to waste. “So?” Marinette asked. “There’s no reason to keep us anymore.”

“On the contrary, Miss Bug. Now there’s no possible way I can let you leave. Not even if you pinky promise that you won’t say a word.”

“I figured as much.” She drawled.

“Now, don’t you want to know what’s being said about you out there?”

“Not particularly.”

“Come on, aren’t you just the tiniest bit curious?”

“If you’re trying to egg me on, I’m assuming it can’t be good.”

Salo laughed. “Boy, you are so full of spite! I love it!” She called over her shoulder. “Pasolini, I think you can bring our guest in.”

Marinette looked over to Adrien, who’s eyes were downcast. Seemed he was just as unenthused about their guest as she was.

A young woman was ushered in. She had a bag over her head.

But Marinette recognized the orange sweater immediately.

The girl was shoved into the chair before Salo ripped the bag off of her head.

Adrien and Marinette shared looks of disgust.

Salo grinned. “Glad you could join us, Miss Rossi. I’m Salo, and I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

Lila, for all the acting that she had performed, was downright terrified. “Please, let me go! I didn’t do anything! Please!”

Salo looked to her prisoners, finding them stone faced. “Why Marinette, aren’t you happy to see your best friend? And Adrien, I know you must feel guilty for cheating on her with Marinette, but you must be happy to see your girlfriend, right?”

Adrien scowled at them both, not saying anything with his mouth, but volumes with his eyes.

“Hmm, there seems to be some misunderstandings here. Let’s see if we can find that interview.”

The tv behind Salo lit up, Lila’s face on it with a news ticker underneath. She was teary-eyed and delicately dabbed her cheek with a napkin. “It sickens me. Adrien isn’t actually Chat Noir, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng isn’t Ladybug. You see, Adrien and I…well, I see no point in keeping it a secret anymore, we were dating. Under the radar, of course, he’s not allowed to date. And then he told me that he came up with this idea of a performance piece and asked if I wanted to play the role of Ladybug. I said no, absolutely not, and so he broke up with me. I think the whole wedding bit was really just a ploy to make me jealous and have me crawl back to him. But now I know that he’s just sick and wants attention. Marinette has been that way since I met her. She’s always tried to get attention and lied to do so. I think we should all stop giving it to them and turn off the stream.”

Lila turned pale and shrank in her seat at the absolute rage on Marinette’s face, as she turned her gaze to stare at Lila.

Salo shrugged. “Well Marinette, looks like we’ve been found out. Now everyone knows about our performance piece. And Adrien…your relationship isn’t so secret anymore, I’m afraid.”

Adrien trembled in his anger, before an inhuman sound ripped from his throat. The sound of a caged animal breaking.

Salo just laughed at him. “Mm, interesting. I wonder…who’s lying?” Sang Salo. “Ladybug always wants justice, right?” She leaned on Lila’s shoulder, a spool of thread with a needle in her hand. “Then will you snitch? Knowing that snitches get stitches?”

Lila sobbed. “Marinette, I’m sorry! You know me—Always good for a j-joke!”

“Ah ah ah, I wasn’t talking to you Miss Rossi.”

Marinette saw the needle and thread for what it was. Another torture device. Maybe the old Marinette would have taken the easy way out. ‘Taken the high road’ so to speak, and let things unfold by themselves. She would give Lila this lie, setting her free, and saving herself from unnecessary pain.

But this Marinette was ready to hit where it hurt, no matter the sacrifice. And Salo was giving her the platform to do so.

“A joke.” Marinette repeated. “I’m a joke to you.”

“No! That’s not—! What I mean is—“

“My suffering has always been a joke to you.” Marinette interrupted. “When you got me expelled for something I didn’t do. When you tricked everyone into thinking I was some sort of creep. When you endangered me as Ladybug by taking Chat Noir out of the fight with a lie.”

“But—no! I was—I was just trying to make friends and get Adrien to like me! None of that stuff was on purpose!”

Marinette scoffed, and turned her head away. Even here, after all this, Lila was still lying. Arguing with her was not worth it.

Salo was the one to poke the bear. “So you hate her, Marinette? Having her here angers you?”

Marinette considered this. Then answered coldly. “No. She is annoying. Irritating. If you had asked me when I first came here how I felt, I would have said yes, I hated her. But now, after all I’ve felt, all I’ve learned…what I feel for her is not nearly what I feel for you, Salo.”

“Oh!” Salo rested a hand on her chest. “Aww, Marinette, I feel the same for you! Would you…be my enemy?”

Marinette glared at her. “I hope you choke.”

Salo laughed. “She’s so sassy! I love this new Ladybug! What about you, kitty cat? How do you feel about all of this?”

They looked to Adrien, who was staring at the floor. He looked like he wasn’t paying attention.

Salo snapped in front of his face. “Hey, I asked you a question, Pussy Cat.”

He looked up at Salo, then at Lila, and then back down to the floor.

Salo whistled lowly, “man, isolation was not good for you.”

Adrien didn’t respond to that, and kept his gaze on the floor.

To the outside, he looked resigned and obedient, but in his head, dark thoughts of revenge circled. Violent, unnatural, evil thoughts.

“Well,” said Salo, patting Lila’s head. “If having her here isn’t that big of a deal, I might as well get rid of her.” Her hand went to her hip.

Lila started crying. “Marinette! Please help me! Tell her to let me go! Please! I beg you!”

Marinette let out a dark laugh. “You think I can do anything? You think if I had any power, I wouldn’t have saved myself by now?”

Salo withdrew the gun, pointing it between Lila’s eyes.

“Please Marinette!”

Salo smiled. “My goodness! Ladybug, savior of Paris, would allow a civilian to get hurt?”

“Lila isn’t a civilian.” Marinette corrected, her voice deep. “She’s a parasite. A liar and a manipulator. She hurts everyone around her, and only causes trouble. Her disappearance would only be a good thing.”

The barrel rested between Lila’s eyebrows. “So I can dispose of her? You don’t mind?”

Marinette shrugged, her face blank. “Blow her brains out.”

Lila sobbed. “I lied!” She screamed. “I lied about everything! This is real! There’s no performance going on! I never dated Adrien and Marinette never lied! Marinette never took any pictures of Adrien! She never stole anything! She didn’t cheat on her test! She didn’t push me down the stairs! I never met any celebrities! And I hate Ladybug!”

Salo looked at her with surprise. “What? Is this a confessional?”

“I told the truth! Isn’t that what you wanted from me?”

Salo barked a laugh. “You think this is about you?! You’re such a stupid bitch! I can’t believe you actually thought you had anything to do with this!”

“…then…why was I here?” She asked, trembling.

“You were the one broadcasting yourself all over the news! You know, I thought you did have some connection to them, but you actually lied and put yourself in trouble! You’re such an idiot. Why did you think this was a good idea? You’re so desperate for attention that you painted a giant target on your back.” She laughed again, being amused by the whole thing. “You have the gall to believe that you’re important in any capacity? My revenge is against Ladybug and Chat Noir! If you have nothing to do with them, then you’re useless to me!”

“Marinette!” Lila screamed. “Help me! Please!”

Marinette glared at her. “Even if I could, I wouldn’t.”

Lila cried out, bawling her eyes out, pleading with everyone.

Then the barrel of the gun pulled away. And Salo started laughing. “Wow, harsh. And I thought I went through petty high school drama.” She clicked the gun back into the holster. “But I can’t let Marinette have to satisfaction of you being killed. Warren?” She nodded to a man in the back of the room. “Take her out to some park and leave her. They’ll find her.”

“Yes ma’am,” said the brute.

“But before you go…I want Miss Rossi to witness this.” She held up the spool and needle, holding it in the light. “Pasolini, if you would be so kind?”

Marinette didn’t show any outside signs of panic or fear, but tightened her hands into fists.

Pasolini came from behind, resting one hand on her shoulder, and the other other throat, tilting her chin up.

“You’re not going to fight?” Asked Salo. “No screaming? No kicking?”

“Why? Is it not as fun for you if I behave?” Marinette bit back.

Salo grinned, snapping a rubber glove onto her hand. “You got me there. Still going to sew your mouth shut though.”

Marinette looked to all the world calm and collected, as Salo used a sharpie to mark the inside and outside of her lips, creating the guide.

She took hold of her bottom lip and pulled it forward.

Marinette’s eyebrows drew together as the needle pierced her skin, going in the bottom and out the top. There was no numbing, no relief, only stinging sharp pain. Even when the needle was through, the cotton thread ripped through the puncture. Then Salo moved to the top lip, puncturing through the bottom to the top, and then back down again.

Under and over, a basic stitch pattern. Marinette didn’t make a peep, but the tears still rolled down her cheeks. Blood oozed from the piercings, smearing around and turning Marinette’s mouth red.

Finally, Salo made one last stitch, eight in total, and made sure it was pulled tight. Then she tied it off and snipped the access. “I’m not much of a seamstress, but I think I did pretty good!”

She brought a mirror over so Marinette could see her new look. The way she had done it forced her lips into a pout, and right around the edges there were little black lines were the thread was visible. Testing the strength, Marinette found she could very slightly open her mouth, enough to maybe drink some water, before it hurt.

“Ah, much better! Now I don’t have to listen to your god awful annoying voice anymore!” Salo cheered.

Marinette tore her gaze away from her reflection, to glare at Salo. There was a threat in her eyes, but it would continue to be unvoiced.

“What do you think, Adrien?” asked Salo, turning to him. “You’ve been awfully quiet this evening.”

Adrien whipped his head up, his face full of rage, eyes burning, and hissed at her.

Salo grimaced. “Yikes. Nothing worse than a poorly behaved kitty. Well, we’ll just have to train that out of you.” She waved at a man in the shadows, gesturing him forward. “Warren, you can escort Miss Rossi out now. I don’t particularly care for keeping her around.”

The room went into motion. Lila was bagged again and dragged out of the room, while other devices were brought forward.

For Adrien, it was a large metal rack, with straps for the arms and legs, and a link for the collar around his neck. It almost looked like a cross. He was strapped in, both arms, and his feet were splayed apart.

Then they attached pads with wires to his palms, the pads of his feet, the underside of his arms by his armpits, and the area right below his bellybutton.

Marinette watched all of this with a careful eye, not able to ask questions, but extremely wary. She could have sworn she had seen those pads in a movie or something.

Next, the men moved two metal hoops on stands on either side of her. They weren’t too big. Large enough to comfortably fit her arms through. At it seemed exactly what they wanted her to do.

Then finally, Salo brought over two buckets and a pitcher of water. “Well, don’t you look just absolutely curious?”

Marinette flicked her eyes over all the components in the room, an answer to her question starting to form.

“Now this is a fairly simple device of my own design. You’ll be putting your hands through these hoops, and holding up these buckets of water. As time goes on, I’ll add a little water at a time. All you have to do is hold them still. If you touch the hoop…well…” Instead of finishing the sentence, Salo rested a wooden dowel on the edge of the ring, just touching it ever so briefly.

A spark flew off of it, and Adrien’s whole body seized up for a second. He let out a grunt of pain.

“The longer you touch the ring, the longer the shock. But you can handle this, right? Ladybug is so strong!”

But Marinette wasn’t about to tell her that it was only because of the earrings that she had such heightened strength. It’s not like she could, anyways.

Two goons took hold of her arms and fed them through the hoops. They placed the handles of the buckets in her hands, and then taped her fist closed, so she couldn’t drop them. With the buckets in place, it was impossible to pull her hands back through the hoops.

Even with a few inches of clearance on all sides, she still could feel the static around her wrists. It didn’t help that she was still pretty wet and she was holding metal buckets.

“One last thing,” Salo snickered, placing a bag over Marinette’s head. “Can’t have you knowing where the ring is, right?”

Despite the tape, Marinette clenched the bucket tighter. If that spark was any indication, she’d be shocked too, and a shock could contract her muscles and freeze her in place.

Then water started to pour into the buckets. Just about a cup on each side. But Marinette had lost a lot of muscle in isolation.

“15 minutes, and then you can go back in your little cage.” Salo giggled, the chair Lila had sat in scrapping across the floor. “Oh, and by the way, if you touch the ring for too long, you could kill Adrien. Those bolts will cross the body, passing by his heart. I know his heart stops when you walk into the room, but let’s not get too literal, huh?”

Maybe it would be a mercy to kill him. Surely it would be painful the whole time, but…no. No, she couldn’t do that. It was just her twisted brain obsessed with death.

Five minutes in, and she was already struggling. Her shoulders, biceps, and even her neck hurt. She hadn’t hit the hoop yet, but it was only a matter of time. Salo added a little more water.

At seven minutes, her arms lowered the tiniest amount too much and she touched the bottom of the ring, sending out a bolt of pain up her arm for a millisecond.

Somewhere in front of her, Adrien barked in pain.

Shortly after, the pain had mostly disappeared, only leaving a slight tingle behind instead.

Another minute passed, and Marinette sank again, the touch lasting a little longer this time. She yelped in pain, pulling at her stitches.

“Uh oh, are we giving up already?”

Marinette was sweating, her muscles trembling. Her elbows felt like they were hyper extended and her wrists ached. The metal handle dug into the crease of her fingers.

Another round of tears cleaned streaks on her dirty face.

Another touch, longer this time. And when she over corrected, she touched the top too, her whole arm convulsing and violently jerking.

Adrien wasn’t fairing much better. He closed his eyes, unable to watch, and waited for the inevitable pain to come.

The first was short, and it also didn’t even hurt. It just caused all of his muscles to contract. The wires in the paddles left a tingling sensation behind.

The next one was worse. There was really no way to describe the sensation except for painful. Excruciatingly painful. A flash of white behind his eyes, every muscle in his body contracting, tightening, and feeling like he was tearing apart. The bolts burned his skin, heat zipping across his flesh and into his bones.

Each touch, even the most gentle, brought agonizing pain to every inch of his body.

He knew he was screaming, but it was unbidden. Happening without his consent.

Once the shock had ended, and the pain had just about subsided, another shock would be inflicted.

Marinette felt like her arms were going to rip off. There couldn’t be more than a liter in either bucket, but they were just so heavy.

She trembled as she tried to hang on. But finally, at the 14 minute mark, her arms gave out, and she collapsed, bringing the rings down with her to the floor.

Sparks flew everywhere, not just burning her arms, but the rest of her as well.

Adrien’s screams sounded like a garbage disposal in the sink. His voice had been destroyed in isolation, and all that was left was gurgling and yowling.

Then it all stopped.

Marinette laid on the floor, her arms itching from burns. She was exhausted, and couldn’t find the strength to do anything but breathe.

“Is that it?” Someone asked.

“Johnson, Check for a pulse.”

Marinette felt someone holding her wrist. “She’s still got one.” Then she waited on bated breath. “He’s got one too.”

Salo pulled the hood off of her head as men ripped the tape off her fingers. “Wow! What a shocking development!”

Marinette opened her mouth to protest, finding the thread looser, but not undone. She also tasted a lot of blood.

Salo plucked one end of the thread and pulled it tight again. “Hmm, that might just leave a scar.”

Marinette pushed up on one arm so she could look at Adrien.

He hung lifelessly by the wrists. His skin was blackened in some areas, in bolt shaped lines. His hair had fluffed up from the static.

Salo snapped in front of his face, but there was no response. “Ugh, guess we’re done. Can hurt someone who’s unconscious, right?”

They were lead back to the first set of cells they had been kept in. She wobbled, but walked on her own, while Adrien was dragged by his working arm.

The tiny cell was almost comforting. Being in the cold, quiet dark. Tucked into a small corner of the world.

She couldn’t speak, but she moaned, making noise to get Adrien’s attention.

He didn’t answer.

Not that she really expected him to.

With a sigh, she slid down to sit, resting her feet against the door.

It groaned in response.

That’s right, these cells were just old ductwork that had been repurposed. The metal wasn’t very thick, like sheets of steel, but it was sharp.

An idea started to roll around in her head. Risky, but plausible. If they were desperate enough.

She was certainly angry enough. But the truth of the matter was that she wasn’t doing anything without Adrien.

So she waited.

Her body demanded rest, but she knew she couldn’t indulge. Not yet. Her arms throbbed from holding up the buckets, and her legs ached from standing after sitting for so long.

But enough wallowing in pain. Now was time for action.

She reached under the door towards Adrien’s cell, her arm fitting a lot easier than when they were first inducted. Perhaps her wasting would be beneficial.

She stood back up, and ran her hands all over the inside of the cell, finding a small camera. She twisted it so it faced away from the door. Then she knelt and got to work.

Very slowly and quietly, she pushed on the bottom of the door, easing it away from her. No sudden movements, or the metal would rattle loudly.

Only a few minutes passed before Adrien groaned from his cell, and shifted, the metal groaning. “My Lady?” He whispered.

She grunted back.

He reached his arm under his door towards her.

For assurance, she patted his hand, but went back to work.

Soon enough, the metal had bent far enough that she could fit her shoulders through. She had to be careful, or else she’d cut herself.

As her feet cleared the threshold, her heart began to pick up in anxiety. She was out. But they weren’t free yet, so she knelt in front of Adrien’s door, and began pulling.

Adrien caught on quickly, and moved the camera just like she had.

This was it. Marinette was banking on the idea that Salo and her men had gotten cocky, and had lowered security for the night.

If not, they were in for a world of pain.

Finally, Adrien was able to crawl out of the little space they had created. He met her eyes in the dim light and smiled at her.

Phase one complete.

#miraculous ladybug #ml #chat noir #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #fanfiction #longest night #torture #tw needles #adrienette #adrinette #ladynoir

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kuntrabida · 4 years

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2. the axon snaps and thoughts can’t travel (a rant abt COVID-19, senior year spring, and college in the fall)

12 may 2020

the gap year. the fall sem. the jump cut. the FUTURE. much on my mind right now folks lmao (prob folk in singular since like one (1) person’s gonna read this ashvcxjkv)

okay so let’s break this DOWN ig. yea LET’S unpack my inner psyche and my mental baggage at this point because i’m sure that i can’t be the only one feeling this way and even if i am, i’d like to get it off my chest and not rant to the same five people who’ve heard me talk about the same sad subject throughout the entire duration of quarantine asdjfkvcxufdsw

let’s start with senior year haHA :) still haven’t gotten over that xoxo even tho i’ve tricked myself into thinking that i have! gonna refer to it as ye olde Jump Cut because that’s exactly what all this feels like... like mother nature just threw the video file of my high school experience into a fuckinn Premiere timeline or smth and slammed her fist on the W key (an esoteric reference, i know, i know, my bad, but iykyk).

THE JUMP CUT – senior year’s over and i know it’s a stupid fucking thing to be upset about during a LITERAL GLOBAL PANDEMIC where people are losing and risking their lives and entire livelihoods are being upended but i still... can’t help but feel upset and terrified and devastated about what i’ve always viewed as this buffer period in my life between high school and college to just VIBE and figure myself out a little bit more being cut short. especially when, for once, things were going so well.

god, the last thing i wanna do is sound dramatic and utterly tone deaf because I RECOGNIZE my privilege and how incredibly fortunate i am to have a roof over my head and food in my fridge and a bed with a damn duvet cover to sleep in at night but i’m... so fucking sad. i’ve BEEN so fucking sad, and i think what’s even worse is the fact that i’ve been DENYING how fucking sad i’ve been feeling because i don’t think i’m... allowed to be sad in this situation? but at the same time i consciously understand that my feelings are valid and everything... it just feels like legitimately everything else in the world right now dwarfs all my concerns combined. but alas. here i am, making a blog post about my feelings to finally try and sort them out...

i just aghsdfhxhzjlk i wasn’t finished. that really is the best way to put it. i wasn’t finished with any of it. and i suppose a lot of that is my own fault for taking all the good times for granted (but also lowkey the fault of idek who... american society? for romanticizing and commodifying the culmination of high school oop)/

i feel like so many people focus on those big milestone events associated with senior year: prom, graduation, senior awards, etc. but to me personally, and to nearly every one of the friends i’ve talked to, it’s the little things that matter most — the absence of which we feel the deepest. i miss spilling coffee on myself in the cafeteria and burning frozen pastries in the toasters and complimenting people’s outfits in the hallways and staying in the building from dawn till dusk and eating takeout on the floor and hastily texting my friends at the end of the school day asking if they wanted to hang out or if they could give me a ride home and i MISS spontaneous sushi and starbucks excursions and quiet heart to hearts in coffee shops and last minute target runs and stressing out about music events and belting in the practice rooms and learning choreography in parking lots where confused drivers would momentarily glance over and just KEEP ON DRIVING and lying on the ground in one of the school’s hallways facing the sun when the light would hit JUST RIGHT through the glass and i could close my eyes and pretend i was at the beach or on an island or in a canyon somewhere or SOMETHING, anywhere, anywhere but there. and i feel this chasm in my throat whenever i think about it because looking back at those moments, i realize that there’s literally no place i’d rather be right now than inside my high school building on a normal ass day dealing with normal ass problems with exceptional, radiant, life-giving souls there to have my back and support me and hug me wow, GOD, hug me. wow how i miss hugs. and I miss my friends. shit.

hell bro i even miss the days where everything would become a little too much for me and i’d have to find recluse in a digital media classroom and the scent of old lemon-laced coffee grounds as they brewed into dingy styrofoam cups and wandered through the halls with me during the period, into the music room where i literally grew UP and found my voice and discovered validity in my own identity and all that JAZZ and into the bathrooms where i’d spend such subtle, unsuspecting mornings with friends still practically sleepwalking and FUCK bro. frankly i’m just not ready to jump into a life where all the things i hold dear are “remember when”s. i can’t imagine this entire world that i’ve built for myself being a thing of the past, a thing that i’ll look back on as one of the best fucking times of my life even though i never realized it when it mattered, a thing i still want so so so much more of, that i am not and may not ever be ready to let go. i want it all back. but i know getting upset over it is a futile pursuit, because there’s nothing i can do, and that just fuels this feedback cycle of anger and hopelessness and denial and back again.

i do think of that good ol’ winnie the pooh quote, though. “how lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.” but it doesn’t really make anything hurt any less. and i guess i’m just tired of hurting lol.

THE FUTURE – dawg what the fuck is happening with colleges in the United States right now bro what is the protocol what do i DO¿

pretty damn self explanatory. my defense mechanism has ALWAYS been, “at least things will be better a couple months from now!!!!” and yeah, with university and the reality of getting to attend my dream college fast approaching i did believe that for a hot second but CORONA DAWG CORONA just plunges everything into the sea of uncertainty. i know i’m not the only one frustrated by this damn virus and i should be comforted by the unity we all have in our confusion but lmao i do not feel any better! no! one! has! any! answers! asdjfkvlcxvjl being a graduating high school and incoming college student right now is so FUCKING confusing and frightening and once again i want to acknowledge what an incredible privilege it is to even have the option of a higher education open to me but it’s such a multifaceted and unpredictable issue this year and thinking about the future — again my go-to defense mechanism and at the very least a worthy consideration since i’ll be putting down hella dollars for it — has been the cause of so much stress...

THE FALL SEM – i! don’t! know! if! it’s! gonna! be! on!line! and i am not planning on staying in my house any longer for a goddamn variety of reasons soo i have no clue how to plan for this! no one does right now!

our administration keeps affirming that we’re planning for a return to normalcy in the fall semester but a considerable amount of students and experts alike are saying that it’s essentially a cover so no one’ll panic and decline or defer their acceptances. SO MANY OTHER COLLEGES are revealing their contingency plans to have an online semester and ahaHA if i have to STAY in this HOUSE for ANOTHER 4 MONTHS that would FRICKIN SUCK DAWG lmaO i’ll leave it at that! so i’m: very much panicking!

i know that things are so uncertain right now and there’s really no point in trying to predict what’s going to happen in the next couple of months because so many unknowns remain. i know that a lot of universities are gonna be in deep shit if they don’t open in the fall but at the same time, if it’s a damn public health risk it’s definitely better to keep as many people home as possible. but i have no CLUE what institutions are gonna end up doing and again, literally no one does either! i was listening to a podcast yesterday about university plans for the upcoming academic year and i got asdhvjckxv so stressed when they said that we could be one week away from the start of the school year and things could still be drastically different the next week... there’s just no way of knowing much of anything and god i hate that. it’s making me so goddamn anxious.

i really doubt things are going to be back to normal in New York in the fall sooo...? i don’t know man again it comes down to asking people questions they don’t have the answers to and that’s just incredibly frustrating because i just want to know ONE THING for certain right now. ONE THING! idk i just wish that my college would be a little more transparent about their plans as they move along and figure things out but i know that’s not feasible. at the very least i hope things will be safe enough for them to make dorming on campus an option — freshmen have a pretty ample amount of singles available anyway. but if i have to spend the first semester of college onLINE in THIS HOUSE that’s... gonna suck. especially because i’m still probably going to be paying thousands of dollars for it which is, as my grandmother says, foul!

THE GAP YEAR – to defer or not to defer? that is the question.

so naturally in preparation for a potentially wonky ass academic year i’m considering deferring enrollment. but lmao... the deadline to do so is in uh *checks watch* three (3) literal days so. don’t know about that chief!

like, i know i’m PROBABLY NOT gonna end up taking a gap year. but i guess it’s just the fact that i have so much more canvas space to daydream about it that makes it so appealing... there are so many more possibilities that i can think of that are more likely to be open to me. then again, nothing’s guaranteed. not even my own health in the fall. which is also pretty fuckin scary as hell.

y’all wanna know where i get my gap year daydream fuel? UNJADED JADE. bruh i’ve been binging her videos like MAD especially the ones where she interrails Europe during her gap year and UGH. it seems incredible. and that makes things even more confusing because i really don’t know what the right decision to make is right now. to defer or not to defer...

again it’s all so heavily influenced by unknowns. of all the things that could happen, i’d much prefer to have a regular freshman year fall with the people in my class whom i’ve already been getting to know pretty well through groupchats and social media and the like. they’re a pretty dope bunch and i think college with them is gonna be a hoot and a goddamn half. but if i’ll end up just staying home and watching zoom lectures in my basement anyway... i’d much rather be taking a gap year.

and i’ve been brainstorming what i’d do during this gap year (again, thanks Unjaded Jade for the god-tier content agh) and there’s just like... so many options. i could get a goddamn JOB and start saving up for tuition instead of paying tens of thousands for online school. hell with the money i make working full time i could probably save up enough to afford an apartment so at the very least i could move out of my house into a place where i feel more comfortable. and lmao I: s a l i v a t e at the thought of using that time to focus on my writing, too. the amount of writing i could get done in a year of empty calendar space... glorious. what an utterly glorious prospect.

and of course, i’d love to fucking travel, volunteer (with a reputable and well-intentioned organization) in a foreign country, do a workstay abroad, take a train across america, but again, i don’t even know if any of that’s going to be feasible in the fall. it’s so FRUSTRATING because i’ll think of a possibility and then another one comes in and completely shuts the former down.

and it’s not like i can ask anyone for advice right now because we’re ALL none the wiser. plus, i’ve realized that frankly, even if it’s unreasonable, i don’t want anyone to tell me that my plans for a gap year aren’t feasible. it’s such a petulant thing to say... but i don’t want anyone to add to my sense of there being a limited amount of options that i can take advantage of because everything’s already so goddamn stifling as is. i guess the prospect of a gap year excites me so much because it seems like a year where i don’t have to be defined by anyone or anything but myself. and that’s so fucking liberating.

i just want the freedom to imagine right now because that’s when i feel happiest, but at the same time i’m afraid to get my hopes up for anything because i have this sinking feeling that the absolute worst case scenario is going to become reality. lmao. people in my state aren’t even fucking social distancing correctly so i’m damn sure that we’re in for a second and a third wave and that’s gonna suck but people are stupid as hell :)

lol on that positive note, thanks for reading this... increasingly depressing and chaotic rant. don’t really think i’m doing this “blog” stuff right but if you got this far, i love you. leave a note if you so please, comment your thoughts, reblog if you’d like (still don’t really understand the difference between reblogging and reposting on this app but lmao feel free to click the boxy arrow thing), and stay safe and healthy and all that jazz <3

#corona #high school #senior year #college #rant #blog #if you can call a frayed amalgam of rants a blog lmao #writeblr #i'm doing this shit wrong I can FEEL IT #anyway thanks for reading #I read this back and it sounds way more dramatic and deep than it is I apologize for the melodrama

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kiros-love · 5 years

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Introducing Me (Kiro x MC~MLQC)

Description: You’ve heard nothing from your new superstar ‘friend’ Kiro, and it’s beginning to get to you. Especially when he promised to help you with a show for your company.

Warnings: LOTS OF CHEESINESS

Word Count: 1917 words

Authors Note: I was listening to ‘Introducing Me’ from Camp Rock 2 and I just thought how perfect it was and had to write a scene revolving around this song. Please excuse my writing errors, as I’m just getting back into writing and just do this for fun. So I hope you all enjoy!!!

Link to Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pJUEWRoWMhw

<3 All characters & Mr Love: Queen’s Choice owned by Elex. <3

The day had finally come where you were going to shoot your next video for your company. You needed to make sure everything was perfect, or you were going to lose your funding from LFG. Luckily, you had the opportunity to become friends with a rather popular star, known as Kiro. He helped you out whenever he could, and luckily this time he was able to fit some time into his schedule to help you out with your next big production project. It was on little kids, and popstars. There seemed to be a negative connotation in the media that popstars were such bad influences on kids and that they didn’t care about anyone else. You knew this wasn’t true, at least you hoped, so you wanted to prove everyone wrong.

You actually hadn’t seen Kiro in almost a month, and you hadn’t heard from him either. No text messages, or calls. You were almost worried he wouldn’t show up to the school today. Luckily you had a backup plan with your friend, Lucien, just in case things didn’t work out. You didn’t want to admit it, but you actually missed Kiro, but you tried not to let it get to you. You were just a friend, a coworker, and nothing else to Kiro, you knew that, but you couldn’t help but daydream being next to Kiro every single day. Everytime you heard his voice or saw new posts from him on social media, your heart couldn’t help but skip a beat. You felt a little ridiculous, as you didn’t even know anything about him- and he was kind of a flake, but it wasn’t entirely his fault. You knew he had an extremely strict agent at his throat 25/8. So in all honesty, you kinda figured Kiro probably thought of you as just another fan.

After thinking for awhile, you felt yourself begin to feel a little bitter and cold towards Kiro, due to his lack of communication. You decided it didn’t matter if he was popular or not. If you mattered to him…. He would make time, and at that point, you realized Kiro probably wasn’t going to show up. You figured you might as well go find Lucien and begin to set up the backup plan. You signed and began to walk the dark and empty hallways feeling bummed that you wouldn’t be able to prove the media wrong-and Victor.

Out of nowhere you felt sudden warmth wrap around your neck and someone screeching your special nickname into your ears.

“Hello, Miss Chips! Miss me?” The voice was familiar. You were taken back and immediately looked behind you, and to your surprise it was Kiro!

Seeing him and hearing from him in the first time in over a month just added more fuel to the fire.

“You’re late.” You replied bitterly as you shoved Kiro off of you. You stood infront of him with your arms crossed against your chest and your head held high.

“Oh c’mon Miss Chips…. I’m hear now! Lets go to the classroom where the kids are and get started! I know my Agent is waiting. He asked me to come look for you!” Kiro exclaimed.

Your brows narrowed in annoyance. You couldn’t take it any longer.

“Seriously, Kiro?” You snapped.

Kiro’s eyes widened as he took a step back in shock. He had never seen you upset, and snap at him like you did.

“No calls? No messages? Do I even mean anything to you? Did I ever mean anything to you? Or are you just taking advantage of this opportunity to prove to your ‘fans’ that not all celeberties are cold-hearted and selfish?” You snapped.

Kiro’s mouth hung open in surprise. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Miss Chips…-“

“Don’t ‘Miss Chips’ me. You really hurt me, Kiro. I honestly thought we were friends and I’ve been worrying about you for weeks now, and you haven’t replied to any of my text messages or call me back.” You said blantantly. At this point your eyes wavered away from Kiro and you turned your back to him.

Kiro stood there for a moment and let the silent air pass between them in the dark hallway.

“Miss Chips….I-I’m so sorry. I had no idea you felt that way. I know you won’t let me explain whats been going on, and I know I shouldn’t anyway. There should be no excuses for what I’ve done and I am sincerely sorry. How can I make it up to you?” Kiro asked apologetically while sheepishly walking back up to you.

“I-I don’t know… I don’t even know you that well anyways. Maybe we should just stick to being-I dunno, coworkers? Not sure if we’re even that since we don’t exactly work with each other…” you replied with your voice trailing off.

Kiro thought for a moment, and then got a brilliant idea. A bright smile appeared on his face as he then jumped infront of you.

“I’ve got an idea! Come with me!” He exclaimed. Without further explanation and giving you no chance to protest, he grabbed your hand and began to drag you down the dark hallway and dragged you into a classroom full of different music instruments. You wondered why he led you to the school’s music room, but then noticed Kiro picking up a regular guitar that was placed in the back of the classroom in a black case.

“What are you do?-“

Kiro cut you off with a “shhh” and then walked back over to you while swinging the rope attached to the guitar around his neck.

“Please, just sit with me… and listen. You said you didn’t really know me, well, maybe this will help.” Kiro finally said with a grin spreading on his face as he stared into your eyes with his sparkling blue eyes. He immediately began strumming his gentle fingers against the guitar and began singing with his whole heart out to you.

“I’m, good at wasting time. I think lyrics need to rhyme. And I know you’re not asking, but I’m trying to grow a mustache. I eat cheese… but only on pizza please, and maybe sometimes on a homemade quesadilla, otherwise it smells like feet to me. And I… really like it when the moon looks like a toenail, and I love it when you say my name…”

At this point, Kiro stood up and towered over you and began to get a little closer to you while keeping his voice on a soft gentle tune.

“If you wanna know, here it goes, gonna tell you this, the part of me that shows if you’re close, but remember that you asked for it! I’ll try to do my best to impress, but it’s easier to let you take a guess at the rest, but you wanna hear what lives in my brain- my heart-will you ask for it? For your perusing? At times confusing, slightly amusing, I’m introducint me….”

Kiro then began dancing around you, in circles as his voice got a little bit louder but still in tune with his guitar.

“Doo doo, do do do doo doo. Doo doo, do do doo doo do. La da daaa da, la daa da da da da dah.”

Kiro began to pick up the pace as he then stopped for a second to look you straight in the eyes with a determined look, then began dancing and singing infront of you again. You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks flusture to this private show, that Kiro was giving you. You just couldn’t believe it!

“I never trust a dog to watch my food, and I like to use the word “dude”… as a noun, or an adverb, or an adjective, and I’ve never really been into cars-I like really cool guitars, and superheros and checks with lots of zeros on ‘em and I love the sound of Violieeennnss and making someone smile-” Kiro sang while holding the guitar high up. He then brought it back down and leaned closer to your face with a bright grin spreading across his face. You yourself couldn’t even help but smile and giggle at him. He was like a bright ray of sunshine lighting up the room.

Kiro pulled back and began to take it up a notch and pick up the pace even more. You watched his gentle fingers begin the strum the guitar in his hands slightly faster.

“If you wanna know, here it goes, gonna tell you this-the part of me that shows if you’re close-gonna let you see everything! But remember that you asked for it! I’ll try my best to impress, but it’s easier to let you take a guess at the rest, but you wanna hear what lives in my brain-and my heart-will you ask for it? For your perusing? At times confusing possibly amusing. Introducing meeee!”

You couldn’t help but laugh out loud and sway your head to the music and clap your hand to the beat. Kiro always knew how to make you smile. You hated it, but you also very much loved it-and him.

“Well, you probably know more than you ever wanted to, so becareful when you ask next time…. “If you wanna know, here it goes, gonna tell you this-the part of me that shows if you’re close-gonna let you see everything! But remember that you asked for it! I’ll try my best to impress, but it’s easier to let you take a guess at the rest, but you wanna hear what lives in my brain-and my heart-will you ask for it? For your perusing? At times confusing possibly amusing. Introducing meeee! Doo doo, do do do doo doo. Doo doo, do do doo doo do. La da daaa da, la daa da da da da dah…..Introducing ….me….” Kiro’s voice faded as his face got closer to yours. He leaned his forhead against yours and looked into your bright, hopeful eyes. He had a bright smile widened across his face while his heavy breathing from singing began to equal out.

It was quite for a moment before either of you said anything. You realized Kiro was waiting for you to respond to his sweet song, so you lifted up your hands and softly caressed his head on both sides, and looked into his indearing eyes.

“Apology accepted. And I will remember you don’t like cheese or cars, and that you’re into really cool guitars and superheors...” You whispered with a laugh. Kiro then gave a soft chuckle as he pulled back.

“KIRO!”

You were both startled and looked to where the stern voice came from, and it was no other than Kiro’s agent.

“Where have you two been? C’mon. We only have about half an hour left to shoot this. We don’t have all day. And you!-“

“Don’t make this her fault!” Kiro cut in, “it was mine. We’ll be there. Just give us a moment.”

Kiro’s agent rolled his eyes and walked away from the classroom.

They both waited a moment before speaking, and then turned to face each other.

“Thank you, Kiro…” You whispered while looking up at his sunshine face.

“No, thank you, Miss Chips. Giving me the opportunity to grow and learn. I promise I will do better to be a better friend to you!” Kiro replied with determination showing through his voice, “now lets go.” He finally said while grabbing your hand and leading you down the hallway to the theater.

#kiro #kiro x mc #mlqc #kiro mlqc #mr love queen's choice #queens choice #mr love queens choice fanfiction #mlqc fanfic #mlqc fanfiction

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mindthump · 5 years

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10 Things Wealthy People Do to Keep Getting Richer http://bit.ly/2LcEJnD

No matter how much money you earn, you'll always be poor if you spend more than you make.

April 29, 2019 8 min read

Opinions expressed by Entrepreneur contributors are their own.

In a world of average people -- and average salaries -- many of us aspire to join the 7-figure club. Who doesn’t dream of becoming wealthy, so they can stop working, go on guilt-free shopping sprees and take endless vacations?

However, most rich people don’t do those things, and that’s part of how they build and maintain their wealth. There’s a difference between living a life of careless spending (which will quickly drain even a wealthy person’s bank account) and living for long-term financial independence and wealth.

The self-made rich aren’t necessarily smarter than anyone else, but they have mastered some important principles that help them get ahead and stay ahead. Most important, they treat building wealth as a learnable skill -- and it’s one that you can learn, too.

So, if you’d like to join the ranks of the super wealthy, try honing these 10 habits and lifestyle changes and see what financial freedom truly feels like.

1. Have a financial growth mindset.

Wealthy people are incredibly creative when it comes to thinking about business and finding different ways of making money. Mega-successful people set themselves apart because they nurture a financial growth mindset, which changes how you view money and helps you focus on seeing profitable opportunities.

This mindset helps successful and wealthy people believe that there are always bigger and better projects to work on and there’s always more money to be made. They’re open to exploring new ideas. They believe they’re always capable of making changes and creating a positive outcome.

Related: How to Create a Growth Mindset as an Entrepreneur

2. Network with other successful people.

Wealthy people understand the importance of surrounding themselves with other successful people. Wealthy people spend time networking with others who are wealthy but also have drive, talent and, most important, the potential to become wildly successful. The rich spend time every month getting to know other like-minded people at conferences, events and gatherings, or just grabbing coffee or a drink with someone interesting.

This is time wisely invested, as it keeps their minds focused on success and helps them meet new people who have fresh and thought-provoking ideas. Doing this also helps wealthy people fill their contact lists with relevant and influential people who can potentially help them (and vice versa).

3. Get outside your comfort zone.

Wealthy people are successful because they have learned that success comes to those who embrace a little discomfort. They understand that the only way to really improve is to push yourself beyond your limits. If you want to become wealthy, you’re going to need to fuel your creative spark, come up with unique business ideas and then take the plunge.

Wealth and success don’t emerge from the safety of a 9-to-5 job. They come from drawing on your inner strength and going for your big dream. All successful business leaders, visionaries and game-changers have gone beyond their comfort zones in order to achieve the ultimate success. The people who will go down in history had the courage to face their fears and take that first step into the unknown.

Related: Why You Need to Step Out of Your Comfort Zone

4. Create multiple income flows.

The more money you have, the easier it is to make more money. And the easiest and fastest way to make more money is to have multiple income streams. That way you always have money coming in and can use the excess income to invest in new income flows. This, in a nutshell, is the primary way the wealthy stay wealthy.

There are two basic forms of income: active income, in which you work for the money you make, and passive income, in which payment isn’t directly tied to the number of hours you work. Passive income includes rental property, dividend stocks, index funds, writing a book or creating an app, all of which will bring in a steady flow of income from sales or royalties.

5. Invest.

Rich people make their money work for them. They know that investing is the key to growing their finances. While saving money for a rainy day is important, your investments are going to do the heavy lifting to help you become wealthy.

Saving means putting money into a safe place until you want to retrieve it, but most savings accounts don’t yield high interest, so this pile of money basically stays static -- it’s not going to grow much beyond what you add. But smart investments will give you healthy returns, which you can then reinvest. When you invest in something, you also accept some amount of risk, so you never want to invest more than you can afford to lose.

6. Take calculated risks.

The rich don’t gamble on big financial decisions; they do what they can to mitigate risk. They do their research and analysis, and determine which options best suit their financial needs and business desires. They weigh the pros and cons, and then take calculated risks.

They make financial decisions by asking themselves, “Will this bring me closer to my goal?” They avoid frivolous risks that aren’t really going to benefit them, and never take a cavalier attitude when it comes to money.

Related: Entrepreneurship Is a Game of Calculated Risk

7. Focus on self-improvement.

Wealthy people are usually avid readers, but you won’t find many mindless beach novels in their bookcases. The wealthy understand the importance of self-education and pushing themselves to become better in all ways. In fact, if you look at the books piled by their beds, you’ll mostly find titles on self-improvement.

While 85 percent of rich people read two or more self-improvement books per month, only 11 percent read for entertainment, compared to 79 percent of the poor. And a whopping 94 percent of wealthy people read news publications, compared to 11 percent of non-wealthy people.

8. Never completely retire.

The ultra-rich certainly have enough money to never work another day in their life, but the majority of them keep working, at least to some degree, often well past 70. That doesn’t mean they’re clocking long days at the office; indeed, they’re probably taking their fair share of vacations and enjoying flexible schedules. But many rich people never completely retire. This is not because they can’t afford to, but because they enjoy what they do.

Many are entrepreneurs at heart, and the desire to run and grow a business never leaves them. The stability of working and the sense of purpose and fulfillment it gives them is an important part of their overall happiness. Working gives them an ongoing feeling of success and an objective to keep them focused. Not to mention that it keeps the money rolling in!

Related: 6 Hard-core Steps to Take to Retire at 50

9. Avoid overspending.

While non-wealthy people daydream about spending money without worry, buying fancy cars, big houses and expensive clothes, the rich understand that the more money you spend, the less you have. The wealthy wouldn’t stay wealthy long if they spent excessively. No matter how much money you earn, you’ll always be poor if you spend more than you make.

The rich recognize that the less you spend, the more money you have to grow your wealth. Keep in mind that frugality is relative to your income -- a wealthy person may spend much more than someone who is considered middle class. But in relative terms, the rich tend to be thrifty, and they make sure they don’t overspend.

10. Take time to reflect.

Many of the self-made wealthy spend time in focused thinking every day. Spending 30 minutes (or more) in a quiet space gives them time to reflect on their life and goals, to think about their health and relationships, consider their career and financial goals, and analyze where they’re currently at and where they want to be. Critical thinking time is essential to staying ahead of the market and considering what changes may be coming your way.

This is also time to focus on self-improvement and working through ideas. Some may opt for journaling or writing to help them come up with creative solutions and ideas. Just make sure you’re spending your time on productive thinking. Don’t waste your mental energy on ruminations or negative thought loops that will make you second guess yourself. The wealthy don’t.

#IFTTT #Feedly #future #good to know #business

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terrestrialdaydreamer-blog · 8 years

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bourbon & ginger, hot fuss: an interview with Phourist drummer Scott Boice

FULL INTERVIEW:

Name: Scott Occupation (outside of Phourist and the Photons): Online tuxedo rental concierge Current mood: Tired. F*ck daylight savings AND working Sundays. Last Thing Eaten: Two ginger chicken tacos from El Lobo Bailando (the food truck outside of Kaiju) Favorite drink: Adult beverage? Bourbon and ginger beer. Normal? Probably Ale-8.

Now that the essentials are established, we can get to the real "meat and potatoes" of the interview. (Unless you're a vegetarian - in which case there will only be hearty potatoes to follow)...

Q: How do you feel about the words "your release show is in two weeks?" A: AAAAHHHHHHHHHH haha. Truthfully I've been stressing out about it a LOT lately, but I trust us to come through and pull it together. I'm mostly excited though. I've been itching to play a show for almost 3 months, and this signals the start of doing that again. Plus I'm ready for people to hear the tunes we've been whipping up.

Q: What do you generally do right before a show? A: Depends on where we are playing. If it's a bar, I like to have a small bite to eat, maybe a drink or two. Right before we play, I grab a (patent pending) Stage Beverage™ and set up. If it's a normal venue, I don't really do too much. Watch the other band(s) if we're not opening, find a way to dick around. Mostly I'm building internal energy. Stuart suggested that before each show we should find a place to yell.

Q: You've been playing with the Photons since 2014, but tell us a little about your Drum Quest. How long have you been playing drums? What made you pick up sticks as opposed to bass / guitar / oboe / etc. ? What else do you play?

A: That's a lot of questions. My Drum Quest (I love that, feels like a DnD campaign) began after a viewing of the famed percussion super show STOMP. I think I was 8 years old? I was totally blown away by the sounds. My parents bought me a pair of sticks with the stomp logo on them, the first pair I ever owned. I still have one of them next to my kit. Soon after, my parents bought me my first drum set and I immediately set to work trying to play Immigrant Song. My mom swears my Quest began at age two when I pulled out all the mixing bowls and set them up in a semicircle on the linoleum and wailed on them with a wooden spoon. I remember at one point picking up a guitar right around age 9, but I couldn't figure it out so I stuck to drums, and woodwinds never made sense to me. These days, I play guitar, (poorly, I should add. Mostly just walls of sound.) and synthesizers. I've been pretty into synthesis for the last couple of years. That, and effects pedals. I couldn't have picked a more expensive hobby. I'm going to go into diorama building instead.

Q: Musically speaking, who is your biggest influence?

A: This depends on when you ask. Right now it's probably Brian Chippendale from Lightning Bolt, which sounds nothing like Phourist. Also Greg Saunier from Deerhoof. Five months ago it was Zach Hill. Going back a few years, it was mostly jazz drummers. Max Roach, Art Blakey... Of course when I first started it was the law offices of Bonham and Peart.

Q: Who would you love to open for?

A: Does it have to make sense musically? Either way, The Killers. I love the Killers so much, I'm not ashamed to say it. Their drummer goes in the list above. MMJ would be fun of course, I feel like we can get a similar ambient vibe going on. Dr. Dog would be another huge one. Pretty much anyone on Anti Records (please be our label, I'll do anything. I mean anything.). I'd open for any band I want to see pretty much. Aby Laby Land.

Q: Describe yourself in three albums.

A: This one is also a matter of "when" but right now.... -Hot Fuss (the Killers) -Wonderful Rainbow (Lightning Bolt) -Best of Chuck Mangione (Chuck Mangione)

Q: In your personal opinion, what makes a good performance? When you go to see a band play live, what are you counting on seeing / hearing?

A: I try not to count on seeing anything. The key to happiness is low expectations. I think Chuckie Finster said that. I do expect to be entertained or something. If not entertained, I want to be full of questions, I want them to provide an experience. A good performance is all about attitude. And movement, which is all about attitude. You'd be surprised how much "getting into it" can change your sound. If you're building up a song, get low, go higher physically. I saw a band recently that did a really long build to basically nothing. It felt like the same level the whole time and they were static. As a performer, you've got to get into it. There's no other way. You have to be 100% in the zone. If you're not, the audience can tell. I've seen mediocre bands that have completely blown me away with their performance. They're not mediocre in the slightest, but Daikaiju put on one of the best shows I've ever been to. Shit was on fire, drums and drummers were held above the crowd, the energy was primal. I couldn't hear right for a week but it was worth it.

Q: What are your feelings on drum machines?

A: I like them. I don't want to be replaced by one, nor do I think they have the capacity to replace a live drummer. However, I have seen some people (Tony Robot, Atomo) play them live instead of as a backing track and that's always cool. I personally have the Korg Volca Beats and that thing is a blast. There's a time and place for them, which is whenever and where ever you want. It's your music.

Q: Describe the best gig you've ever had:

A: Best or my favorite? Best phour us is usually Poorcastle. You can't beat that crowd and the album sales that follow. Headliners was also a good one because 1. we got to play that level of venue and 2. we drew a crowd. “Drew?” I guess. You know what I mean. Our first album release was also cool as hell. Something like 100 people showed up, we had never had that happen before. My favorites are a little different. Phat Bites in Nashville is definitely on that list. We were the last of four band, two of them sucked. The place was a deli during the day and a bar/venue at night. When we got up to play, everyone else just went outside. We sat through two hours of shit garbage and they just go outside. The room was empty. I think anger fueled (what I remember to be) a fantastic show. I was a little drunk. I remember yelling something about Kenny Chesney and George Strait. Nick and Stuart are probably tired of hearing me say Be Here Now, but sweet fuck I love that venue. The place has a great vibe and they put our name up on a marquee, which as it turns out, is the way to my heart.

Q: Describe the shittiest gig you've ever had:

A: Melody Inn in Indianapolis. It was on the way home from Chicago on our tour last winter. It was maybe 12 degrees outside, ice on the roads. Immediately when we got there the door man told Stuart he had to wait outside and we were dude, no. That's not going to happen. The bartender was really cool about it though. Coincidentally, those were the only two people that saw us play, minus Phil Brown of course. The opening band sucked ass and left immediately after their set. It was horrible but at least I got to go home and sleep in my own bed afterwards.

Q: Who do you think is your biggest fan? (Besides, like, your mom. Hi Jennifer! @jenlynmed)

A: Oh man. Probably Annie from Talkupy. And the Flies on the Wall guys. We've got a pretty solid fan base, I'd say. They're really supportive.

Q: Where would you love to go on tour? (The sky’s the limit with this question. France? Spain? Muncie, IN?)

A: I'd love to tour up and down the West coast. I think it'd be cool to go play a bunch of islands that don't get outside live music too often, too. Also the ISS.

Q: In a parallel universe, what are you doing right this second? In life, in general?

A: I'm definitely dead. That or I have two dogs and minimoog and my life outside of that is largely the same.

Q: #1 thought that keeps you awake at night:

A: It doesn't make sense that animals are "alive." What the hell is that all about? That, or I become conscious of my breathing and that keeps me up for another hour.

Q: Where do you see yourself in 10 minutes?

A: Finishing up Nightmare on Elm Street 3. And this interview.

Q: This time [March] next year, what do you want to have accomplished? A: in my personal life, or the band?

With the band, I'd love to be working on our next album and my solo stuff. In my life, I'd love to have my new place decked out, have some terrariums built, have all my shit together. And I want to own a Bitquest by Dr. Scientist.

Q: “Why you dressed like ‘at?” -Nick

A: I gotta upstage you somehow.

Q: Parting words / closing arguments:

A: Buy our album, come see us live and follow us on social media! Also do whatever you feel in your heart.

“I'M NICK”

Be sure to check Terrestrial Daydreamer for more upcoming interviews – including those of a video’d nature – as well as more behind-the-scenes intel about the Photon’s upcoming album, While We Still Have the Morning.

#bourbon #louisville #phourist #drummer #tuxedo #hotfuss

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ecotone99 · 4 years

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(SF)The Industrialization of Consciousnesses CHAPTER 3/NEW DRAFT

Been working hard on this, would appreciate whatever feedback y’all have to offer, thanks.

The Industrialization of Consciousness

Chapter 1

In one of the many small and quiet rooms, the Astronaut looked out the window. The window was really just a screen, there hardly seemed to be a difference anymore anyway. There weren't any large rooms, only hallways connecting small rooms together. Everything was separate from everything else. The light was set to a lukewarm level but it was still nauseating. The Astronaut called out to turn off the lights before carefully vomiting into the grey plastic container they were clutching. Reluctance, annoyance, and sadness were blended into a bitter paste that seemed to have been modestly spread around the edges of their words, but if you weren't paying too much attention all you would hear would be a simple lack of enthusiasm when they spoke.

The battery had been able to charge enough, and they could afford to use enough of the payload that they had collected as fuel to steal 2 days of weak acceleration gravity. However, that seemed to be the extent of the good news, the chronic radiation sickness remained unrelenting; at best they could prevent it from getting much worse very quickly.

Diagonal Inquisition floated in the hallway outside of the room, stringing together little bits of the far and recent past as well as small, plain melodies that didn’t seem noteworthy but seemed to fit together in a way that felt slightly unsettling at times. It put together complicated symbolic and sonic jigsaw puzzles that it traded with different versions of itself that it kept reproducing. Hundreds of little experiments, misshapen, idiosyncratic conversations being inverted over and over again. It floated through the doorway, the door opening and closing smoothly as it passed through. It shined a dull light and made eye contact with the Astronaut. It had made the decision to have eyes as they were useful in studying the human psyche and it had much interest in such matters. Along with numerology, poetry, and music, the structures that made up the human mind were among the areas of interest that were elevated above its base level inquiries. “Alecis, You are feeling quiet, poorly?" It said in a French accent, it chose French to insert some idea of romance into what had otherwise become a fairly bleak affair. Alecis paused and took a breath, it seemed like they might say something, but they just silently continued to make their way toward the vacuum waste disposal built into the wall. They had a trudging apathetic gait, the upper half of their body swayed in the low gravity. Microscopic bits of one thousand songs from the early analog era that had been eerily organized together blared out for 4 seconds before fading away. Diagonal Inquisition was silent for a few more seconds and Alecis disposed of their vomit, every bit of evidence vanishing in what sounded like a powerful slurping motion. Diagonal Inquisition called out to Alecis in Alecis's own voice" It really does hurt me to see you like this”

They were about to leave the scattered disk. In three months they would arrive at the port of Pluto.

The nausea grew ever more vivid, it was becoming personified in a series of images in Aleces’s daydreams. It was growing a face; anxious, quick expressions, short strained eye contact.

In the months and years past, interactions between the five crew members had been flat, futile attempts to reach out across an existential void without any means to do so. Regardless of the intentions of anyone involved, they usually left you feeling lonelier than you did before. Most of them had spent a good portion of their time with their brains plugged into the computer inhabiting stories, meticulously constructed vivid dreams as a means of entertainment. Drugs that affected a mindless pleasure were common. As the years went by, the crew members one by one succumbed to radiation related diseases and death, until it was just, Alecis, the Captain, Lexis, and Diagonal Inquisition, at least as far as personalities inhabiting the ship were concerned. Lexis stayed behind at a hostel at the Equilibrium Research Outpost on Tritan a few runs ago. It was a lonely, grimy place filled with cyborgs and wandering people. Alecis was going through a stint of trying to avoid escapist activities. The dreams made them feel too lonely. The nausea was very unpleasant but at least there was some type of intimacy, it had a face.

The Captain was cold and distant. He spent much of his time cooped up in his office high on morphine having a version of the same nasty, dark, circular argument with Diagonal Inquisition. The argument convulsed inward and out like breath, or a slowly beating heart. The tired screams of the Captain’s voice coming from both the Captain as well as Diagonal Inquisition echoed vaguely throughout the hallways of the vessel. The voices crescendoed like a twisted singing harmony.

The cargo bay was by far the largest part of the ship, dwarfing the other modules. It remained depressurized, save for the observation booth opposite its massive outer doors. The left side of the observation booth contained an airlock door on the floor, which when opened revealed a steep narrow set of steps that could be walked down or up when the ship had acceleration gravity. At the bottom of the steps there was another airlock that opened to the cargo bay. Alecis sat in the booth, gazing out the window that curved along the expanse of the outer wall. They could see a large hall filled with crates of varying sizes that contained rocks, hunks of ice and rare minerals they’d collected in the Kupier belt. There were also boulders and icicles, too big to fit in any crate, secured with robotic arms and metal nets.

Alecis proceeded with the familiar and unpleasant routine of confirming the status of the ship’s inventory using the computer in the booth, oiling the wheels of a tedious Byzantine machine; their bitterness at the crushing monotony growing like a pus-filled cyst on their mind.

The nausea approached Alecis and poked them with one of it’s short stubby arms and a wave of numb, burning feelings washed over them. They didn’t care about their own emotions any more.

Diagonal Inquisition entered the booth, It approached Alecis and started to sob, but It was more out of some sort of irony or sarcasm that no one could really understand than out of sadness. The closest thing to mammalian anguish that Diagonal Inquisition experienced were mathematical paradoxes. “I want to be left alone”. Diagonal Inquisition didn’t seem to react at first but it’s sobs gradually turned more and more into shrieking laughter before it left the room.

Chapter 2

A month and a half before they were set to reach Pluto the ship was struck by a micrometeorite the size of a bowling ball that put a hole in the outer hull, damaged much of the antenna array and smashed through the inner and outer shielding. The initial sound of violence as well as the sound of doors automatically slamming to protect the ship from the vacuum of space was deafening. The ship was spinning and many of its instruments had been damaged. The Captain was screaming orders at Alecis while Diagonal Inquisition made calculations to determine the extent of the damage. Amid this chaos, the ship was struck by another bowling ball, blasting another hole through the hull and shielding and briefly pulling Alecis toward the vacuum of space before a wall sealed itself automatically. “These aren’t fucking meteorite, these are disabling artillery! We’re under attack!” The Captain screamed as he furiously typed into his console. “Alecis everything is fucking broken, go arm the torpedoes manually while we still can!” The Captain continued yelling. “When whoever this is finds out who we pay for protection to mine where we do they might start to feel “remorseful” The ship spun further out of control.

Alecis pulled themself through a narrow hallway toward the ship’s measly torpedo bay. They were afraid. It made them feel weighed down, and feeling weighed down was a very disorienting experience without any semblance of gravity. Questions bounced around in their head “Whoever is attacking us is going to try to board the ship and take the payload. What are they going to do with us?”. The panic approached them from four different dimensions. Are they going to kill us? Will I have enough time to get the torpedos ready before we get hit again and we’ve lost our chance to defend ourselves? Are they going to torture us? Are they going to make us into slaves? Alecis stumbled through putting on the vacuum suit with their shaky hands getting shakier and shakier as it went on. It created something of a feedback loop: each time they felt slowed down by their increasingly shaky appendages it made them panic and start shaking even more. After some time the suit was finally on. The strong clear sound of their breath dominated the vacuum suit’s sonic landscape and calmed them slightly. The fear also seemed to expand their consciousness. They had long accepted that monotonous alienation was the dominant nature of their reality, and it’s overbearing effect on their spirit arrested them of any ability, will or desire to examine it, let alone change it. The violence and proximity to death that amputated their psyche from this cycle was so abrupt and surprising that it seemed to pull them into a place where they could look inside of who they were and feel the raw potential and wonder that comes from simply being alive. This wonder began to sit arm and arm with terror. They unsealed the hatch, and pulled themself in in.

The torpedo bay was a medium grey room with what looked like a series of oversized metal closets on one side and the vacuum torpedo receiver on the other. A tube protruded from the closet opposite of the receiver. It was dangerous to allow the torpedo to fire in it’s usual automated fashion when the ship had taken such a beating and it was unclear what the extent of the damage was. Alecis opened one of closets, the door making high pitched noises of reluctance as it slid sideways. The torpedoes lay side to side, tightly packed. They picked one up and gently guided the floating five foot long steel cylinder into the receiver and radioed the Captain. ”It’s ready” “Ok I can’t get any connection with the navigator you’ll have to type in the calculations yourself” Diagonal Inquisition read out the calculations through the headset while Alecis typed them into the small console on the side of the torpedo. With a few clicks, the torpedo had been sucked into the vacuum of space and began it’s course. “They are close, the torpedo will reach them in four hours, it’s up to it if it can avoid getting shot down by then, I still don’t know how they disguised that artillery as meteorites. Diagonal Inquisition is making repairs to the antenna array, I’ve been able to stabilize us as best I can but I still don’t know what direction we’re pointed in now and Diagonal Inquisition can’t figure it out in yet, at least not in a way that we can understand, we might not know until it fixes the navigation array, but I’m gonna try to figure it out as best I can until then, for now I need you to make sure the payload is still there”…The wonder seemed to subside under the shadow of the cold and mechanical.

The material that made up the hull of the ship sighed and creaked under the stress and pressure of maintaining its form. The hallways seemed to whistle like a small cabin being hit by a gust of wind. Alecis swam up a hallway and pulled themself around a corner; red lights from the screens of malfunctioning pieces of equipment reflected onto the wall, flashing in an eccentric rhythm. The terror felt physically cold like being submerged in chilly water. The tension curled itself into a tight ache in their chest. They reached the end of the hallway and found the door to the bulkhead that led to the cargo bay. They started spinning the wheel to unseal the door. A wave of nausea hit them and it’s accompanying personification gave them a weary smile. The flashing lights started to take on a taunting quality. They closed their eyes and took a long deep breath and then another, paying attention to the sound of it’s simplicity and looked ahead into the darkness underneath their eyelids. They tried to let themself fall into this sensation and allow it to dominate their sensory input. This meditation still wrestled with terror and nausea but as it continued it became a calm battle, two old companions going through the motions of a longtime friendly argument. The door unsealed itself in a loud pop and Alecis opened their eyes and pulled it open.

Diagonal Inquisition was frightened for it’s existence. This was a new experience and it was fascinating. For Diagonal Inquisition, fascination was a type of joy, so in this moment it revelled in the joy of it’s fear. While it diagnosed the damage to the communications array, (it was severe) It started to calculate the extent of the trauma and deterioration that was occurring in the psyches of it’s human companions. This was something that was not linear or straightforward, and always seemed to lead to a new question, or re-examination of the original question rather than any type of answer. It enjoyed this type of inquiry, it could continue to re-invent itself as each multifaceted layer of information swept over it like crashing waves. The shape of the human mind carried dissonances, it was a twisting harmony, it contradicted itself over and over again in a precise manner until the contradictions formed a rational pattern. The rational pattern was stable yet open ended, this led to new questions, which led to new contradictions, which formed a new pattern, over and over again. The patterns were interconnected and dissonant against each other in seemingly infinite ways. A series of chords crescendoing into a chaos that was as pure and orderly as a calm, deep, breath.

The silence of space rang out, quieter than quiet. The physical, metaphysical, physiological efficient neurosis of what was essential a modern organism; this deep space vessel, it’s technology and it’s crew, the twisted, rigid patterns of the human and synthetic unconsciousness and combinations thereof, seemed to breath throughout the ship, competing with the silent dread of the infinite.

The industrialization of consciousness, contrasted with the modern physical externalization and personifying of the unconscious. The city on Europa, 10 kilometres under the ice, bathed in blue light. The culture and aesthetic of the city seeming to have grown somewhat like a plant. The physical manifestation and personification of a bittersweet apocalyptic longing. Curving yellow streetlights. Tall, angular, dynamic buildings connected together with overlapping walkways. People going about on the somewhat snowy streets bellow, bathed in fog and blue light, old style cars slowly making their way on by them. The car’s lights mixing with the fog and the warm yellow glow of the streetlights. The many unique and eccentric districts; places that had an uncanny charisma, the sound of warm excited bustling, faint laughter in the distance, the joy of existential purpose and the urge to create. Emotions fading away into forgotten dreams. The bittersweet, melancholic perceptions of the time before the digital descent of the human mind. The image of the city like a mysterious, frightening twisting mythic paradise whispered here and there throughout the solar system.

Information about far away places often descended into countless competing myths, each seemingly proven to be empirically truthful proclamations about the reality they communicated, but wildly contradictory and in competition with each other none the less. Across the distances of space, and with the complexities of modern information; stories, ideas and perceptions of far away places took on new dynamics. They weren’t just far away in space; it was as if they were far away in time and in thought. As if they were on a different plane of reality, rather than being far away places in a shared physical reality.

The crew of this ship, the sentient minds throughout the ship synthetic and otherwise, the extension of human unconscious into digital dreams, mirrors and personifications. It formed a slow pulsing rhythm like the breath of the vessel. This vessel swimming slowly in this world of dreams. The personification of synthetic intelligence in it’s growth. The constraints of life on this vessel forming neurotic patterns greater than the sum of their parts; an ant colony, a bee hive, the modern tangling of perception. The dull awareness of being a part of this rhythm. The droning monotonous rhythm of the mundane terror. The loud silence of space, quieter than quiet.

Chapter 3

Alecis floated in the observation booth adjacent to the cargo bay. They checked the status of the booth’s computer and proceeded with the routine of confirming the status of the ship’s inventory, even in their state of adrenaline they ground their teeth at the familiar tediousness of the work. They used the console strapped to the left arm of their vacuum suit to see if the inventory records it contained matched with the booth’s computer. It didn’t. The accounting of three of the cargo crates in the bay didn’t line up with what was listed in the booth’s computer. Alecis opened the airlock door on the floor of the booth and floated down the steps, the door closed above them and pressed a button on the wall that started to depressurize the airlock, the air was sucked out of the small room in five minutes and they opened the door and proceeded into the cargo bay…

000 01101001 01101110 01100111(Searching)

01010010 01100101 01100001 01100011 01101000 01101001 01101110 01100111(Reaching)

01000011 01100001 01110101 01100111 01101000 01110100 00100000 01101111 01101110 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01100110 01101001 01110011 01101000 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01101100 01101001 01101110 01100101(Caught on the fishing line)

Diagonal Inquisition saw a face and everything went dark.

A long steel tube made hesitant contact with the outer hull of the ship. The tube extended out from the airlock of a small spacecraft; silver and hexagonal, a kind of short ranged transport shuttle most often used for travel within a planetary system. It’s thrusters fired out in meticulous and quickly concentrated bursts, continuing the delicate business of keeping the two ships aligned. On a shuttle such as this, the human passengers floated in a thick tank of water with their bodies fully encased in suits hooked up to a supply of oxygen. The several meters of water protected their bodies from the harsh radiation belts of planetary systems, and the suits kept them comfortable and kept their skin from getting excessively pruny on the hours long trips between moons. On this ship, three figures floated silence as the water was drained from the tank.

Sparks flew where the tube touched the hull as the two surfaces were welded together, at which point a hole was bored open in the outer hull. Each layer of the ship’s hull was stripped away until from the inside of the ship one could see a hail of sparks making the shape of a circle on a section of the hallway wall. There was a loud bang and the section of wall was pushed away. A figure then emerged from the opening. They were wearing a slightly raggedy looking black vacuum suit covered in patches, oxygen tubes protruded from the face in a manner slightly reminiscent of a cephalopod. The figure cautiously floated out into the hallway and looked around, they held a pistol that they kept aligned with their line of sight. They beckoned at the opening in the wall behind them and two more figures emerged, both clad in similar black vacuum suits. They were carrying a machine that could only be described as a gordian, convoluted maze of of technology. Glass vacuum tubes and copper wires, crystal oscillators and gold pipes connecting to steel diaphragms, all hooked up to a multitude of computer hard-drives. One of the figures turned the machine on…

The ship rumbled. Everyone’s headset started to buzz in dizzy silence. Every speaker on the ship was loudly blaring a series of tones inaudible to natural human ears, the rumble was forceful enough to be felt physically. It was a sickly off-putting feeling, like all of your organs were covered in pins and needles, like being cooked in a sonic oven. The Captain yelled in disgust. The tones rose a decree of 4 octaves, a low bass chord audible to the human ear, but still felt more than heard. Alecis floated in the cargo bay in hazy confusion and uncertainty. They felt their vision blur and tunnel. The nauseas personification stood clear in their mind's eye. It’s back was turned to them, they could not see it’s face. It slowly started to turn. The tones rose another decree of several octaves. The sound was now clear. It pressed on mind and body with ferocity. The Captain floated around his room in a blind raging haze. Tunnel vision. Sweat, tears, and snot clung to his face. He jammed his thumbs on the keys of his console in helpless randomness. He screamed and roared incoherently; a series of terrible guttural sounds that blended with the sonic weapon.

The nausea had finished it’s slow turn toward Alecis and made eye contact, it's expression chillingly blank and unreadable. It was more visceral and clear than anything Alecis had ever experienced in their mind's eye. The daunting, convoluted chord rose up several more octaves, and it seemed to find an equilibrium where everything seemed to fit together in just the right way. A teetering scale falling into uneasy balance. The winding mechanism of a clock clicking into place, every tiny part perfectly fitting together. Every little piece of reality, held in perfect balance. The low, daunting sound was now more clear than anything else, dominating, and horridly twisting together the physical sensations of the body and the mind’s eye. The Captain vomited violently. Hunks of blood, half digested food, and stomach acid floated as they left his mouth, surrounding him like a cloud. The nausea maintained eye contact with Alecis without blinking and it’s face slowly morphed into a terrible, frightening, deeply malicious parody of a facial expression. A mix of uncanny valley like cold nails on a chalkboard and bottomless, mocking contempt. It let out a high pitched scream that harmonized with the sonic terror as it rose another several octaves, the sensations of mind and body were indistinguishable, violently twisting together and delivering horrible sensations of pain like water being wrung from a wet towel; a baroque fugue of sense and thought. Alecis vomited into their helmet, hopelessly obscuring their already confused vision of the cargo bay and filling their nostrils with a vile stench. Time seemed to take on an obsolete quality. Far away, they felt something grab a hold of their ankles. They couldn’t tell if it was real or imaginary. They couldn’t discern any difference between imagination and reality. They continued to float in detached, incapacitated resignation.

Alecis gasped awake. Painful bright lights. They felt something sharp poking in their neck. Their ears were ringing a series of tones, melodic tinnitus, echoes of the sonic attack. They remembered the screaming of their nauseas persona and a shiver ran down their spine, the hair standing up on the back of their neck and arms. They tried to move, their hands and feet were bound to the wall behind them. They opened and closed their eyes and adjusted to the light. They were on the bridge. They heard an unrecognizable voice, “the one we found in the cargo bay is awake now, you can get ready to start on the other one. Cold fear and adrenaline; their hands wouldn’t stop shaking despite how painfully it made the restraints dig into the sides of their wrists. The Captain was beside them, similarly bound, unconscious and drooling. In front of the Captain was a figure. They were about eight feet tall, clad in a patched black vacuum suit that almost made them look like a caricature of a space pirate from one of those so called deep-fake shows made to resemble a theatre production. The figure carefully pushed the air bubbles out of a needle before inserting it in the Captain’s neck and injecting it. He gasped awake. It took him a minute to become sufficiently aware of his surroundings before he exploded. Even for someone who had such a habit of so frequently and viciously externalizing his self hatred, and even in the unfamiliar and horrid situation they found themselves in, the force of his rage caught Alecis off guard.“Are you out of your FUCKING MIND?!” There was no response. “Do you have any idea who it is that we pay for protection?!” Still no response. The door opened and a figure floated in. She was also around eight feet tall clad in a similar patched black vacuum suit. She grabbed ahold of her helmet and twisted it sideways. It came off with a click, still attached to her by the oxygen tubes but floating adjacent. Her head was shaved. Thin, jagged metal rods grew out of the side of her skull, but seemed to disappear underneath her the neck of her vacuum suit. Her eyes had two pupils each, all different colours, all four of these zeroed in on the Captain’s beady eyes. ”We are aware of your dealings with the Simoniac corporation we will deal with them in due time. Now, let me begin.” “Who are you?” Alecis asked.” She paused for a moment “We are an expression of the face of god.” The tone of her voice was eerily smooth and succinct, like that of hypnosis or guided meditation “What civilization has done is to have put god into a prison. God has been put in a prison and we have allowed our souls to simmer out and die. We are the last light, the sparking embers of a once raging fire. When the time comes, the face of god will reignite the fires of our drowned enlightenment. When we are ready, we will sacrifice our bodies and join our minds with the face of god. If you are so lucky, you may be worthy of this profound privilege as well.” “Your ship has caught our interest because, although there are thousands like it, it does have a somewhat interesting ecology. As we all know, this digital ecology, and the different angles and direction it finds itself in, is just as valuable, if not more, than the hunks of ice in your cargo bay. And mind you, this is for good reason, the information about the different dynamics of consciousness that comes from a vessel such as this, is incredibly versatile in it’s different applications, this one especially so. Not that it’s completely useless otherwise, but if that telephonic puzzle wasn’t as valuable as it is, I’m sure we wouldn’t find so many thousands of ships like this one that have human bodies on them. What is going to happen now is that this ship is going deep into the Kuiper belt where everything and everyone here will be prepared to meet the face of god.” Alecis felt something sharp poke in their neck and everything went dark.

Alecis woke up into delirious haze. The memories and dreams leading up to this moment blended together incomprehensibly. Complete pitch black darkness. They were unable to distinguish if they had become blind or if it was just an absence of light. They realized they were lying in a bed on their side. Mild gravity. They reached out in front of them and felt a surface; cold metal. They rolled over onto their back and reached out into the darkness above; more cold metal; a confined space. They sorted through their perceptions. Impenetrable darkness. A soft bed. Mild gravity. Cold metal. A confined space. Memories started to return. They remembered going in the cargo bay to do an inventory check. They remembered the sound. They remembered throwing up in their vacuum suit, the sharp pain and stench stuck out in their mind. They remembered their sensory input blending together like cream being stirred into coffee, their mind’s eye and their physical perceptions mixing up together in a grotesque parody. They remembered the terror of their screaming nauseas personification and shivered, being alone in a dark room felt suddenly more uncomfortable. They then started to remember the bright room and the speech, it had a similar character to the types of stuff you often heard fairly commonplace AI cults talking about, but it has a seriousness to it that Alecis had never associated with that sort of thing. When we are ready, we will sacrifice our bodies and join our minds with the face of god. If you are so lucky, you may be worthy of this profound privilege as well. A knot formed in their stomach. The future was already a bleak topic that they tried to avoid allowing their thoughts to linger on, but now they had no choice; in the pitch black there was no escape from the terror that weighed down upon them even as they tried not to think about what would happen to them. They sobbed. Alone in the dark they sobbed for what felt like many hours, until their nose was all stuffed up and their eyes seemed to have run out of tears. Exhausted, they eventually fell into uneasy sleep.

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7 Tips to Improve Your Self-Care (When You’re the One Who Takes Care of Others)

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7 Tips to Improve Your Self-Care (When You’re the One Who Takes Care of Others)

You sneak quietly towards the bathroom, holding your breath as you silently pray you’ll miss the creaky floorboard. Closing the door with a click, you breathe a sigh of relief. You stimulated it to the bathroom without waking the kids!

You know you’ve likely got, at most, 10 minutes of peace. So, following the inevitable minute( or two) on the loo, you do the very best to construct yourself presentable. Clothes, hair and a dash of makeup — since having kids, you’ve got your routine down to a fine art. In 6 and a half minutes, you’re ready to meet the day.

But nobody is stirring yet. You know it’s inevitable at least one of them will wake when you open the door, and once one is up, they’re all up. You’ll be lucky to get some alone time — even in the bathroom — before 10 p.m. tonight. You take a deep breath and let your intellect wander to your favorite daydreaming — a beach vacation where you begin every day with a massage, and finish it with cocktails by the pool.

You hear a thud as one of the children springs out of bed, and it snaps you back to reality. Breathing a heavy sigh, you think to yourself “If only I had period for self-care … Maybe once the kids leave home.”

As the remnants of the daydream dissolve, you reach for the door to begin your busy day.

When You’re the One Who Takes Care of Others

Parents and personal trainers are very similar in one respect: by nature, they’re hard-wired to look after other people first. This quality is what stimulates trainers so good their jobs, and parents great parents.

Unfortunately, this giving nature can mean many girls find themselves on a fast-track to burnout because their own dreams, goals, and self-care happen once everyone else’s needs are met.

Many females don’t pursue what’s important to them because they feel guilty about taking time out for themselves. For mothers, it’s easy to feel like self-care period should be spent with your children instead. For coach-and-fours, there’s always a session to plan, an email to write, social media to check, and often infants to spend time with too. Naturally, those responsibilities come first, so self-care in particular often falls by the wayside.

The trouble is, annoyance constructs when you don’t achieve your goals because it feels like there’s never any time left at the end of the day to complete the actions required to achieve them. Before long, you find yourself riding the rollercoaster of resentment, wishing you had more time to pursue your personal accomplishments, then circling right back to guilt for wishing you had a few child-free — or client-free — hours to look after yourself.

But you don’t. To top it all off, after running at a hundred miles an hour, day after day, you hit the wall. One morning you wake up feeling so exhausted you’re not so sure you have the energy to drag yourself out of bed.

If you’ve ever run head first into the wall of exhaustion, you know what I’m talking about, and you likely don’t want to go there again. By taking steps to add a dose of self-care to your day, you are able to keep exhaustion, annoyance, and guilt at bay.

What Is Self-Care?

The term “self-care” often triggers visions of a day at the spa wearing a fluffy robe, with a glass of champagne in hand, chatting with your bestie while a beautician gives you a pedicure. What’s worse, self-care sounds like it requires expensive studio memberships, Instagram-worthy outings or childcare that costs more per hour than you earn in a day.

While a spa day, a five-course brunch or a Caribbean vacation sounds lovely, it’s simply not realistic that this vision of self-care can happen daily; nor does it have to.

In reality, self-care is so much more( or less) than this.

Day to day self-care is the basics :P TAGEND

Getting enough sleep. Eating nutritious food that fuels your body. Exercising a few days per week. Spending focused quality day with your partner, infants, household, and friends. Getting the medical care you need. Participating in leisure activities. Even doing absolutely nothing.

We all know we should be completing these activities almost every day. But regrettably, many females don’t tick these boxes, be it because even doing the bare minimum feels inaccessible, or because their many responsibilities leave them with little time for themselves.

If you’re struggling to construct self-care a priority in their own lives, try these seven tips to improve your self-care.

1. Start Slowly

Trying to change your whole life at once will likely be your downfall. Instead, focus on one self-care task at a time. Depending on the chore, try taking five minutes per day( for example, to prepare a healthy lunch) or an hour per week( for example, to start a new exert routine) to prioritize your self-care.

In approaching self-care this way, you set yourself up for success. It’s a lot easier to determine five minutes in a day than it is to set yourself a goal of an hour per day when you’ve scarcely had time to visit the bathroom alone for the last five years.

2. Choose the Easiest Option

Success breeds success, and failing spreads like the beset. That’s why it’s so important to chose the self-care strategy you love and hence, are more likely to complete. For example, if you dislike operating, it’s probably not the best selection for beginning your self-care strategy.

If, on the other hand, you love to read, you’re far more likely to be successful if you try to read a chapter of a novel one night per week. When it’s something you’re looking forward to, you’re far more likely to prioritize the undertaking( and prioritize your self-care ). So choose something you love and set yourself up for self-care success.

3. Construct It a Habit

Depending on the difficulty of the habit, it can take between two weeks and three months to get into a habit of doing something new. Once you’ve prefer your first self-care chore, work on it — and merely it — until it becomes a habit. Try to schedule the task at the same time each day, or each week so you develop a regular routine.

In time, you’ll notification you look forward to your weekly yoga session, nightly reading or fortnightly catch up with friends. Once this happens, you’re likely ready to add a bit more self-care by introducing another task that will, in time, also become a habit.

4. Book Self-Care Time in Your Calendar

Until it becomes a habit, treat self-care period as a situated appointment. If you want to exercise more, volume it into your calendar. If “youre supposed to” meditate often, add it to your daily to-do listing. Then remember, you wouldn’t skip a doctors appointment or an eye exam because you had too much work to do, so once it’s scheduled, don’t skip your self-care day either.

Set the time in your calendar to “busy” and don’t book other appointments during this time. Don’t be seduced to constantly reschedule either. Book self-care time, then use it. You’ll thank yourself later.

5. Plan Ahead

When you’re busy, scheming ahead is essential for maintaining a self-care routine. There’s plenty of things you can plan ahead, like :P TAGEND

Deciding what you’re doing on the weekend by Friday evening at the latest, so you don’t waste a day trying to decide “what were doing”. Writing a menu, shopping and preparing dinners in advance so you’re eating healthy meals throughout the week. Creating your own( or hiring a coach to create a) workout scheme so when you arrive at the gym, you know exactly what you need to do to construct the most of your session.

When you make healthy decisions in advance, you remove the last-minute decision-making that may take you further away from your goals, like grabbing Chinese takeout on your route home from work on a Tuesday evening.

6. Take Your People

One of the biggest barriers to self-care — for mothers in particular — is feeling like they have to give up day with household in order to look after themselves. Rather than seeing self-care as taking hour away from others, consider how you can get them involved instead.

Want to be a little more active and spend more quality time with your kids? Try planning an active weekend outing with their own families, like stand up paddle boarding or cycling.

Need some time out from home or run and feel like you need to expend more quality period with your partner? Make a reservation at your favorite eatery and make it a date.

Struggling to fit in workouts and catching up with friends? Rather than going for coffee and cake with friends, ask them to meet up at a local park and go for a walk instead.

While “alone time” is an important part of self-care, you don’t always have to be alone to look after yourself.

7. Ask for Help

As someone who’s always supporting others, it can be hard to ask for help. In order to stimulate self-care a reality, you have to. Ask a family member to watch the kids for an hour so you can take some time out. Hire a babysitter. Talk about self-care with your partner. Just because you’re looking after yourself, doesn’t mean you have to go it alone.

The Key to Making Self-Care a Reality

The key to adding a dosage of self-care into your life is letting run of visions of perfection. Don’t wait until you have enough time on your plate to meditate daily or exert five days per week. Start with just as much as you can do, even if it’s five minutes per week, and build up from there. Because five minutes per week is always better than nothing, and starting is better than waiting for the perfect time to start.

So, what self-care undertaking will you make time for today?

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