#when I started making my space my own it wasnt effortless for her anymore and we had to talk about why that was

[zaphodkilledthespeedforce]

Sharing space can be hard. Living with someone is hard. Even if it's not anymore, it was at some point. If you move in with someone and you find it effortless, that's awesome. But double check to make sure your roommate or partner hasn't had to overcompensate and live around you for you to feel that efforlessness.

Now it's great living with someone. Sometimes we still butt heads, but it can be so exciting sharing your life with people. It's fun! We just need to remember that we don't need to take up an entire couch when there's other people wanting to sit (both metaphorically and literally)

[thedistantstorm]

Phoenix Protocol 02

A Zavala x Female Guardian work.

Summary: When the Traveler’s Light was returned to the Guardians after the defeat of the Cabal, it did not manifest itself the same in everyone. Miyu, an Awoken Warlock, finds herself struggling with her abilities, her Light feeling different and not her own. With her Vanguard preoccupied with grief and all eyes turned to the Reef, she finds herself turning to an unlikely source in an attempt to rediscover her connection to the Light and define what it means for her as a Dawnblade.

[Previously]

Ikora always wants more.

By research, Ikora actually means to discuss Miyu stopping hers. Focusing on more important matters. The Reef. Uldren. Miyu wants nothing to do with any of it, and that is why she had willingly offered her services detaining escapees from the Prison of Elders despite not actually wanting to do that at all.

It gives Miyu time to actually complete some more secretive research on the side: why her Light is messed up. Why it feels like when she received hers back, after the war, it felt like it belonged to someone else, the person she used to be but wasn’t any more, coiling uneasily beneath her skin. She’s gone to Io. The Shard. Both under the guise of hunting escapees, but also to seek answers.

Neither place does and very day, the solar sword is more difficult to grasp, wings of flame beyond her reach. Telling her Vanguard that didn’t work. Ikora didn’t understand. The Void has always been at her fingertips, for as long as she’s been connected to the Traveler. With that in mind, Miyu attempts to adapt her argument, listens to Ikora insisting that she push herself and hopes that eventually either her own efforts or Ikora’s reasoning pays off.

Ikora still demands an answer, though. Wants Miyu to give her something. So, Miyu presents her personal thoughts. Based on her research, she finds that her connection to the Light is strongest while meditating or calling upon her abilities in the midst of a healing rift. Ikora is not impressed. Miyu isn’t expecting her to be. She tells Ikora the truth - that she does not believe offensive maneuvers are her true calling, not anymore. It’s something she’s believed for a while now. She can hear Ghost cheering her on in her mind for being honest - for expressing her opinion. That was rare. Miyu hated doing so, especially when she knew it was going to be an unpopular one.

Ikora, in response, cites battles, strikes, accolades. Ikora always measures a Warlock’s worth in accolades.

Miyu measures a person - Guardian, Human, Exo, Awoken, whatever - in terms of character. Heart. Sometimes she thinks that’s why she just doesn’t fit in with her more intellectual colleagues, aside from not being sneaky and clever like the Hidden or having half the honors or titles that Ikora’s top-tier Warlocks have. Put a sword in her hands and Miyu can cut down almost anyone or anything. But have her infiltrate a group and act a certain way, play a role of some sort? She’ll fail right away.

She is not an actress. She’s a Guardian. And to her knowledge, the definition of a Guardian is someone who protects. There has to be some merit in that, she’s told Ghost, and he - her best friend and most honest critic - agrees.

Ikora - Miyu thinks - must not think much of her. Still, the Void user pulls her back from her thoughts with praise. “Grey,” She says, “You are so much more than you give yourself credit for. You need to push yourself harder. Do not give up. I know you are better than this.”

It’s times like this that she wonders. Does Ikora know what her name is, really? Does Ikora even care? Miyu is beginning to think she’s just a faceless person, a puzzle that is challenging and therefore worth the more esteemed woman’s time. Ikora gave her hardly any face-time before the war, before she had these issues.

Regardless, the younger Warlock attempts to retain her composure. “Thank you. However, I would like to pursue my research on a more defensive Solar ability,” Miyu says, barely a whisper of defiance. “I believe it is possible.”

Ikora shakes her head. “Leave shielding for the Titans. A Warlock’s rift is not meant to protect. It is meant to heal or empower, and only briefly. Attempting to augment it is a waste of Light better spent on dispatching our enemies.”

Miyu sighs, but nods. “What would you have me do, then?”

The Warlock Vanguard crosses her arms, turns her back to Miyu and looks out at the City. “Take the most difficult Strikes and Patrols I can give you. Challenge yourself and you will find yourself calling upon your abilities more. If that does not help you to realign yourself with your Light,” She trails off, eyes narrowing on a fixed point beyond the horizon, “I will explore other paths. Your research is unnecessary at this time. If you require a project, I will send you to collect information from the Reef.”

The younger Warlock bows. “I understand,” Miyu says, schooling her features into something blank, and trying to sound collected and grateful, not detached and indifferent. “Thank you.”  This won’t help. She’s already tried this, Miyu thinks, but tries not to let it bleed into her demeanor.

“You’re welcome, Grey. You may go.”

Miyu turns her back to Ikora Rey, but waits until she is nearly to Banshee’s stall in the main portion of the Tower to let the frustration show on her face, a very quiet growl escaping her. Ghost appears at her side immediately. “I can’t believe she wouldn’t listen to you,” He says, sounding even more irritated than Miyu is. “I’m sorry,” He apologizes to her. “But I think you should keep working on it.”

“So do I.”

Ghost bobs, spinning around her in a wide circle of disbelief. “You do?”

“Yes.” Silver eyes cant over toward her Ghost’s single teal one. “I’ll do what she asks, and continue my research on my own. What else can I do?”

He sighs. “I know. I just wish it had gone differently.” He taps her cheek. “If you could have convinced her to watch you summon your-”

“We asked that the last two times and she refused. It’s okay, Ghost. I’m used to it being just you and me.” She reaches up to cup his small being with her hands, and holds him close. “Sometimes, I think it’s better that way.”

Ghost nuzzles against her abdomen in a return of their improvised hug, and wonders not for the first time if she considers leaving. He knows she doesn’t feel like she belongs here, that she’s trying so hard to fit into the roles dictated by social norms. Most of her fellow Guardians hurt her with their lack of understanding, their taunts. Most of them do not know how it feels to have their Light feel foreign to them. Still, she remains as gentle as she can, does her best to be kind to everyone she meets. It’s no wonder they don’t live within the confines of the Tower. The City folk are far kinder to his wayward Guardian than her own brothers and sisters. It’s a shame.

-/

Three days later, news hits the Tower. Cayde-6's killer has been eliminated. Almost everyone is celebrating. Miyu uses the general population's distraction to her advantage, slipping out to the training grounds recently restored near the base of the wall. There should be free space for her to experiment unseen, a rarity in the middle of the day.

She discards her gauntlets and lets the heavy, flame-retardant sleeves of her robes hang down over her palms. Pulls her sword from its sheath at her side. Ghost flutters around her, cones spinning silently in anticipation a safe distance away. She drops to her starting position, kicks off.

What she does not have in stealth or strength, she makes up with in skill. Some of it, Ghost believes, may have been written upon her from her first life, muscle memory and reflexes allowing her to pick up swordplay far more easily than ever anticipated. But not all of it. She worked hard to hone her skills, consulted archives and videos, took every ounce of criticism to heart.

He enjoys watching her dance throughout the training arena with her blade slashing out, parrying imaginary blows, each move fluid yet moving with unbelievable discipline and precision. However, he knows it will come soon. Can feel the tingle of Light, the increasing heat. She’s going to try without the rift. She always does, first. When her mind is clear, when she’s reached that place of blank-white concentration.

The Warlock sheaths her physical blade in a motion like lightning, before reaching out for the heat in the air, calling upon the Light in her soul to manifest the sword that answers the call of her heart. It always looks so effortless from afar.

It isn’t, though. He watches her throw the first one, scorching the dirt. Watches her call upon the second. Watches the flames spiral up her arm, paying no heed to her robes. Watches her grit her teeth and give form to the energy in her hand. This one doesn’t go as far, doesn’t track like the first.

The third fizzles into ash, blackens her fingertips. She screams, drops to her knees, slams her fists into the dirt. He doesn’t approach. He knows she wants to feel this, to commit it to memory - as if she hasn’t already, he thinks, but allows it to continue - and use it to fuel her. It’s how Ikora believes she will improve. Miyu doesn’t believe in it, but she tries anyway. He knows she’d try anything, to feel like herself again.

This is torture, but it’s therapeutic. She needs to let it out, to blaze, like the fiery powers locked inside her, refusing to come out the way they’re supposed to. The way they always had, before the Cabal had ripped them away by force.

Any changes in her personality, since the war, have been subtle. He notices the way her swordhand twitches after she lets the blades burn through her nerves. Can tell that where she might say ten words once, she now says six or five. Notices that where she’d try to be social once in a while, it takes a great deal of encouragement to convince her to approach a friendly face.

Ghost’s cones push out and then back in, spiraling around him in surprise as someone appears on his radar. Someone approaching, quickly. At a run. Miyu is pushing herself up, the rush of a healing rift spiraling out from beneath her. She doesn’t notice.

Another attempt is made to call upon the sword. She growls and braces her sword hand - gripping her left wrist with her right hand. Flames spit and spiral up both arms this time, fighting for purchase against the healing properties of the rift.

“Mi- Miyu?”

The small AI turns at the sound of the familiar voice. Oh, no.

Next

[dinacharya]

Chapter 2. aka, Adele 25 therapy

what are tumblrs for if not for ridiculous oversharing and creeping into people’s lives you have no business being in, right? 

disclaimer: it’s a saturday night, 11:45pm to be exact, and i’m 4 hours deep into listening to Adele’s 25 album on repeat. i’ve also micro-dosed. or maybe regular dosed, depends who you ask. For all intents and purposes here, I’m calling it a micro because i very much have a grip even if my trusty wall tapestry is doing pretty things, and I had a very clear intention diving in. 

the tl;dr is that this 25-year old’s solo post-break up trip is a fucking cleanse and this is the vibe I’m fully on right now:

lol so, how did we get there: 

well waking up from last night’s binge smoking, gaming & sugar session (which was honestly much needed - shout out to the peeps who were there for that) didn’t feel the hottest, obviously. but crushed that shit with more sleep and getting back into jillian michaels* in my living room and eating a healthy lunch and whatnot. 

*side note: i’m sure she’s made millions already, but in this era with all the IG fitness models and influencers out there i still think jillian michaels is queen and underrated. 20 mins of jumping around and flailing weights, guided by her via TV is literally all i need to be like woh bitch i’m back. haha. 

now: you know how there are just those random people in your life that perhaps weren’t around all that long or maybe they had an impact on you that you only realized later? or maybe you just never shared with them how much they meant to you, because you didn’t even know. so there are a couple of those i’m going to bring up here (no names). 

starting with one - a friend from my NYC juice bar days, we spent many a wintery days and hours cooped up in that tiny shop kicking ass honestly with grade A difficult customers. she was one of my favorites to work with - so fun to laugh, with gossip with, just share a space with. i have so many fond memories of night shifts there, snow falling outside the windows. people coming in for smoothies at 10:45pm making us wonder what the fuck? 

she was stunning, tall, beautiful effortless skin and bone structure and all that, she just glowed. she was always lifting up other girls around her while shaming herself. i get it, that’s just what we do, that’s what I do. but fact is she was a straight 12/10 no question. anyways, we lost touch. we all know how that whole restaurant went down in sad flames with our owner locked up at rikers (if you don’t know of the psycho saga via vogue’s coverage, and want to hear a first-hand account, that’s for another day, it’s honestly a fun one to tell). so all the people in my life from the restaurant, who were what felt like home to me in NY, kind of faded out with time.

anyways, she’s one of those people for me that still pops into mind from time to time and i just wonder what she’s up to and miss her. so today in my idle morning of moping around, she popped into mind and a quick social media search led me to find her humble page and podcast she’s just recently started - and i ended up listening to a couple episodes because, lord knows i’m a podcast nerd. but i had a chance to hear her story and how much i didn’t know of her background when we were friends back then, and what a light she still was to those around her was pretty amazing.  she did say that her time in nyc was a bit of a blur that’s hard to remember because she was struggling at the time. it hurts my heart to know that, but at the same time i definitely can relate. generally i’d say living in nyc, as a student or not, can feel very isolating and while i have a lot of very vivid memories and recollections, a lot of that time is also a blur for me now the more distance i get from it. 

anyways, so kind of reflecting on all that this afternoon while mozy-ing around in bed was one part of today’s journey. one bit that was also huge was hearing her talk about her overeating/binge & restrictive eating disorder during that time, which is something i’ve tried to vocalize to my friends and family and even doctor but generally isn’t taken all that seriously. when in fact these habits i haven’t addressed are probably the most crucial detriment to my health. it turns out there’s such a thing as overeaters-anonymous. like AA but for people with compulsive eating problems. that’s 100% me, so this was a HUGE discovery today for me that something like this exists. i’m not going to say i’ll walk straight into a meeting this second, but i’m definitely interested. as carly whose lived with me for the last 3 years could easily tell you better than anyone else, i have a hell of a fucking problem and i don’t even know if i understand it fully myself.

part 2:

coincidentally, around mid day I happened to get a text from an old NY roommate, someone I hadn’t heard from in over a year probably, so it was pretty out of the blue. I always perceived her to be like an older sister figure, a funny lady from Malaysia with a heavy accent and a strong attitude, doing her best to fit into American culture, dating apps, heavy into the astrology shit, and all. Anyways, she hit me up because she was concerned she couldn’t find me on social media anymore (quickly resolved) and she mentioned that she enjoyed seeing my DIY stuff on IG stories and that it was serving as inspiration for some future business she’s been envisioning once she gets out of corporate life in Pittsburgh, PA. It was all endearing and sweet. i have heard from friends before that my IG could be turned into something more if i wanted to, but i’ve never had the heart to put more structure to things that just feel like natural parts of me that i want to remain free, if that makes sense. but it’s still nice to know that out there somewhere in pennsylvania the random things i do in my kitchen and share into the IG ether can serve as a little inspo for a roommate from 5 years ago. also it was just a nice reminder to self that in the same way i have these people i admire and root for and wonder about from a distance, maybe there’s room for me to be someone like that for somebody else i’ve crossed paths with. that makes me happy. 

So, part 3: hello, Adele.

i haven’t been shy about admitting the last couple months have been a struggle for me. basically since turning 25. even leading up to the big number, all year really i’d been kind of dreading what this age meant. it just feels like it’s gotta be messy whether i want it to be or not. considering every prior year has been a positive & fairly steady uphill climb, i figured at some point i’d have to pause/break/falter. don’t ask me why, age has always been something i’m glued to. (it’s funny because i don’t own a clock, the one watch i have is tucked into my wedding planner e-kit and only comes out on those days. given my job title and being a virgo and all, time has oddly never been a day to-day concern for me. (those who know me know i am never on time for anything, sorry) but i’ve always been hyper concerned about my age and the expectations (self imposed, inescapable) that come looming with it*. so birthday season usually is just a very introspective time every year where i evaluate where i’m at, the progress i’ve made, what’s holding me back, what i’m proud of, what i’m not proud of. 

*quick side story, the person i’ve dated all year always would say our age difference was nothing. but that statement always irked me because it’s far from the truth. every year 20, 21, 22, 23, 24 i’ve felt i’ve learned exponentially about myself and grown. so yeah, there’s a HUGE difference, emotionally/self-awareness, all that, between 22 and 25 if you ask me. like bless my early 20′s for being stoned fun & shit, but girl’s been putting in work too ya know?

anyways, back on track: come time for my birthday this year i didn’t really want to think too hard about it and just wanted to have fun, and i did! it was definitely one of the more fun/eventful birthdays i can recall. 

but now, 2 months post-birthday, fresh off of a break up, I’m beginning to see more clearly why I pushed all that usual introspective evaluation under the rug. essentially it’s what i’ve done all year, pretending 22 - 25 is nothing, and that all the work i’d done to get here was whatever. i’d taken steps back self-esteem wise, kind of let my work fall by the wayside just as something to do and not something i was excited about (which is more my norm), and i realize i wasnt being present in the right ways to friendships that mean the most to me. All in favor of some shiny beacon of excitement, being sucked into this vortex of conditional relationships*  and “fun” where i frankly just had no place being.

*linked there ^ is a stellar article, when you’re ready for it

THANK GOD FOR MY FRIENDS. seriously i don’t say this enough. I have been FREAKING BLESSED by the people who choose to be in my life. like fuck yo i know it’s FACT i have not been the most pleasant to be around or hear from this year but the true ones persisted and showed me love when I needed it most, were there for me constantly through all the thick of it and still are. like those calls every day just to chat about what the fuck ever, those random “i’m thinking of you’s” and “let’s hangs” mean so much to me in my isolated world of working from home and just being a general homebody type. let me just promise to all of you once i’m out of this present messiness, that I’ll be back on track. i’ve hated being that girl, i’ve heard myself, and i’ve hated it. so while I’ve been kind of MIA morphing into something i haven’t been proud of, thank you to every single friend who’s reminded me there was still something here worthy of your time and your energy and your attention.

*now, much less saving me, I get to start showing up for you guys better too. 

i’ve explained this to close friends before who have experienced it with me - psychedelics are one of my favorite ways to get a grip on my life. of course, i understand their role in fun experiences too, but i’ve always valued it first and foremost as a powerful mind-opening tool. (so naturally, i adore michael pollan’s latest book “how to change your mind”.) when i’m feeling overwhelmed or at a crossroads or muddled, i’ve found it to be the most affective way for me to tune into myself, see things with a fresh perspective, and commit to the choices i need to. 

so having been on a fucking ride with these breakup emotions, knee deep in self-pity, not knowing what to make of the past year, past month, past week, & where i’m at... i was like, 

why the fuck not?

just what i needed on a night to myself to give my soul a fucking cleanse. it’s a convenient weekend to have the house all to myself. read: a good place to be singing at the top of my lungs haha and doing whatever the fuck my single ass wishes all night. somehow along the way, i managed to cook up a pretty A+ tikka masala sauce and prepped a brussel sprouts salad for a dinner with friends tomorrow night, don’t ask me how. i’ve had a spiritual fucking connection to every single song on this Adele 25 album, obviously. idk why it hadn’t occurred to me until doing this that i’m now 25 listening to this album :) so all of this is to say:

Thank you, Adele.

for being a girl i can identify with who marks progress with age, unabashedly tunes into her emotions, and provides breakup comfort like no other. even though i refused to listen to this album until like a year ago

(also can we just take a moment to appreciate that Adele posted this on her own IG profile)

Thanks to those who aren’t necessarily at the frontlines of my life, but have a place in my heart, whether you know it or not, and bring forth some amazing shit or tune in at the right times.

Thank you, most sincerely, to each and every one of my friends that I won’t name here. 

Close and far, you’re the ones pulling me out of a drudge of a year where I lost myself and you’re reminding me what I love to do and who I am and it feels good to get a footing again. 

~ ciao, finally @ 1:43am.

p.s. below is THE picture of what i’ve been like for the last couple weeks ~ can always count on a new girl reference to have my back heheh

*we can also mark this as the night where i FINALLY get over my weird thing about not liking “Hello.” That shit’s a fucking masterpiece who was i to say anything otherwise hahaha