#I will only improve with practice I repeat this to myself so I don’t go insane

[capricioussun]

Revenge attack for @snafubravado !

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 7

Hello! It's Tuesday and that means more Steve and Eddie. And it's looking like the story will end in chapter 12. It might take one more than that, but it's definitely almost done.

So what will that mean? Well, I'll start working on working on another story to bring it back up to two, but will still only work on the others on WIP Wednesday because I'm trying to get down the amount of WIPs I have running. I have far too many.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Day two of the Fair. Will sees Steve and Steve reveals a little trick. And Steve has to be stern mom again.

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @itsall-taken

****

Steve picked up his usual set and went to the Renaissance Fair. This time they were the first to arrive and they stood there waiting for the rest of them to show up.

He had left the spirit gum with Mrs Sinclair and she was able to do an even better job then he had yesterday putting the ears back on.

The bow and quiver had been left behind today because sadly the poor bow had been a mangled, tangled mess by the time they left the fair yesterday.

Max and Robin’s cutlasses had fared better because they never left their sides, but even slung over Lucas’s shoulder, the poor aluminum just couldn’t bare the brunt of the crowds. And today was going to be even busier.

Steve looked at his watch and then back at the growing crowd waiting in line.

He tapped his foot nervously when he saw the familiar van pull into the lot. And the merry band of fellows hopped out, wearing the outfits they had yesterday. The ones that made Steve green with envy on how well they were put together.

It was like they had just walked off the set of a Hollywood movie.

He was good with a needle and thread, but whoever made their costumes should be making money off it, they were that talented.

Jeff came around to the other side of the van where Steve could see him and his ears looked great too.

“Looking good, Lawrence,” Steve whistled. “The ears are vastly improved.”

Jeff bowed dramatically. “Why thank you, my liege! I had my sister help me pick out the right color and type I needed and then I did it myself.”

Gareth snorted. “After practicing all night.”

Brian elbowed their youngest member. “It’s just like trying to get a beat right, you have to practice. Don’t give him shit for that.”

Gareth grumbled, but muttered a half-hearted apology to Jeff. The older teen just grinned at his friend.

Which after how crazy yesterday was, Steve wasn’t looking forward to a repeat if Jeff took offense to Gareth’s comment.

Eddie had been unusually quiet during this conversation, so while they milled around waiting for the remaining third of their group, Steve came up to him.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, leaning down and forward to get a better look at the metalhead.

Eddie pursed his lips, but he nodded.

“You know, I have been dying to ask...”

Eddie smiled softly. “Who’s my tailor?”

Steve cackled. “Yeah, that. God, I would gleefully sacrifice one of the teenagers for the material alone, let alone the thread.”

“Which one?” Eddie asked, coming a little bit more out of his shell.

Steve reared back his head. “What?”

“Which one of the teenagers you would sacrifice?” Eddie asked again.

“Dustin,” Steve said without hesitation. “I figure virgin,” he counted on his fingers, “check, most annoying, check, and the one who would be the biggest... ‘value’ as it were, double check.”

Eddie laughed outright. “You don’t have to sacrifice any of them. Brian’s sister works at a big theater, the kind that do plays, as their costumer.”

Steve sighed and rubbed a bit of the black velvet between his thumb and forefinger. “You guys are so lucky.”

Eddie laughed again. “Trust me, even Bri had to pay for the privilege.”

Steve’s eyes lit up. “Oh?”

“Yup!” Eddie said, rocking back on his heels. “We had to pay for all the material and patterns ourselves, plus at least twenty-five percent of labor. These duds may be pretty, but lo they be also pricey.”

“Well, it was certainly worth it,” Steve murmured. “You guys look fantastic.”

Eddie’s cheeks colored a pretty pink. “Thanks. Um...mine is actually based on a character from a short story. Brian’s mom is Polish, but she loves sc-fi and fantasy so she gets this magazine, right?” Steve nodded. “So, anyway she’ll translate into English for Brian to read. It’s about this male witch and he has this minstrel friend named Jeskier...” he pronounced it strange, like yes-keer. “I’m probably pronouncing it wrong. But he’s so cool.”

“So you’re this minstrel guy?” Steve asked, suddenly understanding.

Eddie hummed excitedly. “Brian even went as one of the male witches. Not the main one though. But it’s still fun, you know?”

Steve smiled back. “Yeah. I never would have thought about going as a specific character before. Maybe we can plan something for next year.”

Whatever cloud leftover that was lingering over Eddie vanished in the light of Steve’s bright smile.

Eddie bumped his shoulder into Steve’s. “What’s on the docket today, pretty boy?”

Steve blushed bright red, but before he could answer, Claudia’s station wagon pulled up next to them. The four kids piled out, happily chatting and laughing. Well all but Mike.

Mike had always been a reserved kid, but as he got older, the more withdrawn he seemed to get. Will seemed to do the opposite. The kid was really coming out of his shell and into himself. And maybe that was the reason for Mike’s shrinking back.

Steve just shook his head and turned to Will. “Still no Jonathan?” he teased.

Will rolled his eyes. “He said and I quote ‘I’ll see about maybe Saturday’.”

Steve winced. He couldn’t make Jonathan come, but he could see how much Jonathan coming would mean so much to Will and it made his heart hurt just a little.

“Can’t force someone to have fun,” he said with a shrug. “It really is his loss.”

Will nodded sagely, like the mature person he was forced to become far too soon. “But! He did give me the ten dollars I needed for the staff to make up for it.”

Steve smiled. All right, maybe Steve didn’t have to stop by and give the elder Byers boy a piece of his mind.

He turned to Eddie. “Hey, you want to traverse the fields of commerce with me and Will to go get his staff?”

Eddie grinned. “Hell yeah! I didn’t get to go yesterday.”

Will grinned back. He turned to El and Mike. “You going to come with me. right?”

Mike shook his head. “El wanted to see the weavers this morning, but no one else wanted to go with her and with Steve’s dumb rule...”

“It’s not dumb,” Steve said. “Just because the Upside Down is gone, doesn’t mean there aren’t things that can hurt you.”

“We’re fifteen,” Mike protested. “I think that’s old enough to go by ourselves.”

Steve looked around at the other kids and they were all looking everywhere but at him. “May I remind you that we are literally standing on the ground where human monsters were trying to open a gate? Bad guys come in all shapes and sizes and even if you think you’re safe, is El? Or Will?”

The kids looked down at their feet and mumbled their apologies.

“I just want everyone safe and having a good time,” Steve finished. “You guys can do whatever you want, but do you know who your parents would blame if something happened to you?”

Dustin raised his head sharply. “But there are other adults here, why would they blame you?”

Steve barked out a bitter laugh. “Because I’m the fucking babysitter.” He walked off to get in line and everyone just followed behind quietly, suddenly somber.

Robin fell in step next to Steve and wrapped her arm around his shoulder. “Hey, dingus.”

Steve just ducked his head.

“It’s just a tricky age. You remember what it was like at their age,” she murmured.

“I was getting drunk every weekend, smoking, and having sex,” Steve grumbled. “I don’t want that for them.”

Robin kissed his cheek. “You’re sweet. But they’re going to have to figure it out on their own.”

Steve’s shoulders rounded. “I just want to them to have fun and we keep having knock out drag out fights before we go in and I–” he left out a deep sigh.

“You can’t be held responsible for what they do,” she said.

He snorted. “Tell that to Joyce or Claudia. Just because I’m the oldest.”

She hugged him tightly. “You’re not anymore and you know Eddie would do anything for those kids, too. Plus, this is exactly why you told them to find any adult. Let all of us help shoulder the load, too.”

Steve let out a low shuddering breath. “I’ll try. I just keep butting heads with Mike. Always Mike. And I don’t know what to do, he’s just so prickly and even outright hostile.”

“So don’t do anything,” Robin suggested.

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Let Eddie handle it,” she said. “He did a fine job yesterday. So let him do it again.”

Steve pressed his lips together and then nodded. “Okay.”

She kissed his cheek again and went back to talk to Eddie. Steve paid again for the tickets. Well, not all of them. Thankfully Eddie and his friends were paying their own way.

He turned to Will. “You ready to go get your staff?” He smiled broadly to hide the hurt of Mike’s rebellion.

Will smiled back. “Hell yeah!”

Eddie came bounding up to them. “I’ll meet you at the shop, there’s something I need to do really quick about tomorrow. They’ve messed up the schedule and me and Jeff have to go see someone about it.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, just ask Jeff where the shop is, he should remember which one.”

Eddie smiled again. “You betcha, big boy.” He flounced back to Jeff and Steve watched him walk away.

When he turned back to Will, the young man was looking at him with curiosity.

“What’s up?”

Will furrowed his brows. “I’m trying to decide if you know about...” he pursed his lips trying to find a way to say what he meant without outing Steve in public. “What you feel about a certain someone?”

Steve looked back at where Eddie had melted into the crowd and then back at this all too perceptive boy. He put his arm around Will and started them walking toward the shop.

“If you’re asking what I think you’re asking,” Steve started slowly, “I’ve known I like both for awhile now. It was just easier to focus on the one. The one that was socially acceptable, you know?”

Will nodded. “I can see that. And then he came barreling into our lives and a good kind of upside down happened?”

Steve smiled fondly. “Yeah. He is so sweet. He’s everything I thought I wanted in Nancy.”

Will grinned. “You do have a type.”

He scuffed Will’s hair a bit. “Yeah, yeah.”

They walked in silence for awhile before Steve spoke up again.

“I feel I should give you a heads up before we get to the shop,” he said with a wince.

Will looked over at him in confusion.

“I may have talked the merchant in to holding it for you by giving them a ten dollar deposit to hold it.”

Will’s jaw dropped. “You can do that?”

Steve laughed. “No, not really. By I can be persuasive and he was willing to do me the favor.”

“Thanks, Steve,” Will murmured. “You’ve done so much for us, I think we take you for granted sometimes.”

Steve half shrugged. “My parents suck and while some of you have actually decent parents and older siblings, I don’t mind being the babysitter the one you guys look up to and come to for advice.”

Will smiled. “Any tips on how to tell your best friend you have a crush on them?”

Steve threw back his head and laughed. “Look, the one time I did that I was drugged up on truth serum and literally couldn’t lie. I don’t think that’s going to help you.”

“Too bad Robin bats for the other team,” he said with a smile.

Steve smiled back. “Nah, I think her telling me that is what made it easier for me to realize that having those feelings can’t make you a bad person. Not when she was so amazing.”

Will cocked his head to the side. “That’s fair.”

“Come on you,” Steve said, “let’s go get you this wizard staff.”

Will stopped in his tracks. “You said it right. You never say the DnD terms right.”

Steve raised a finger up to his lips and winked. “I do it because it drives Dustin up the wall and Eddie just loves explaining it to me, so I kill two birds with one stone.”

Will laughed. “Yeah, okay.”

As they wove their way through the crowd, Will smiled to himself. Steve and Eddie both liked boys, knew they liked boys, and were still unapologetically themselves. And maybe he could be too.

But first, he was going to get that wicked staff he saw yesterday because he had two brothers looking out for him. His biological one and Steve. Someone who cared so deeply that even when he should have walked away, he stayed.

And Will always could use more people that just...stayed.

****

Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

For those that don't know "The Witcher" was an original short story in a Polish sci-fi/magazine in 1985. I couldn't figure out if Jeskier was in the original tale, so shush if he isn't.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv @dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot

[99corentine]

How To Write Good by Corentine

THE DRAFTING PROCESS, PART 1/2

Hello, people were interested in some writing tips by me so I, uh, sort of kind of cranked out a writing guide in a few hours. I’m not sure if this will be a very comprehensive or helpful guide but let’s give it a try!

⭐ Starting disclaimers: Please remember as with all things that my method is not necessarily the best method, everyone is different and over time you’ll find your own process.

I write romance, so my advice is skewed towards writing that and I’m not sure how helpful it will be for gen fic. I publish fanfic chapter by chapter to AO3 so it’s also skewed to someone doing the same, not someone writing a full novel they want to get published. 

I’m going to be using GOL HAH DOV (GHD) for writing examples because, well, it’s a finished longfic so it’s as good a reference as any, but obviously GHD is not everyone’s cup of tea. I’ll also occasionally reference Tooth for a Tooth (T4T) which apologies is very far from finished, but the Baldur’s Gate 3 fandom is vastly different to the Skyrim one, so it’s useful to cross-compare them.

Also worth bearing in mind: I have been writing fanfiction since I was about 13, and I’m now 33. That’s 20 years of experience. Do you know what I wrote when I was 13? Hot garbage. Writing is a learned skill that, much like playing a musical instrument or learning literally any other craft, you must put time and effort into to improve.

However although ‘practice makes perfect’ is fundamentally true, that’s also kind of lame advice. So here is what I personally do, which may be helpful in figuring out what you want to do. 

STEP ONE: YOU NEED AN IDEA FIRST DUMMY

Think of a fic idea. Probably you have lots of vague ideas. As I’m trying to turn something from a daydream into an actual writing project, I tend to ask myself these questions:

⭐Who is it about?⭐

Pick your pairing, romantic or otherwise. Think about what you like about the character and what traits you want to emphasise in your writing. If you’re writing about fan character x fan character, what makes them go well together? What causes tension between them?

If you’re writing fan character x original character, do remember that your readers are here for the fan character, not for your OC. There is no getting around this, your OC is not what brings people to the fic. GHD’s Chrysanthe was largely intended as a blank slate, quite literally, I made him an amnesiac because the point of the story was Miraak not Chrysanthe. 

Over time I was able to shape him into something more distinctive (softly-spoken, stoic, paladin-like, secret tricksy side only Miraak brings out, gets more dragon-like as the story progresses) but that was a gradual thing. Your readers will hopefully come to love your OC as you do, but it takes time for them to get invested. I’m very grateful that people did come to root for Chrysanthe – but make no mistake, if the story had no Miraak in it, people wouldn’t be reading it. Your OC is always a vehicle for the fan character.

⭐What are the overarching themes of the story?⭐

A cohesive story has a theme that repeats throughout, and picking one early on will let you write with that theme in mind. As an example, the themes of GHD are:

Soulmates / we were destined to meet each other

There’s no-one else like me / you and I are the only real ones here

One’s a hero one’s a villain

Zero to hero / hero becomes progressively more badass

Redemption arc but the villain is never fully redeemed – for GHD this turned into the repetition of Miraak’s theme he’ll never be pure but for you he’ll try and later Chrysanthe’s I love you exactly as you are

Your own themes might be something like best friends who don’t realise they’ve been in love this whole time or can’t live with you can’t live without you. Tropes count towards this too, so something like soulmates, Modern Coffee Shop AU, hanahaki, all of that stuff is a story theme.

⭐What does this fic do that other fics like it don’t?⭐

GOL HAH DOV was sort of easy mode in this regard because there aren’t many fics featuring Miraak at all, so writing anything was already doing something different. Of those existing fics, I wanted to see more where Miraak was evil and scary, and you should be the change you want to see in the world (of fanfic), so I decided to write it myself. I get a lot of comments on Miraak’s personality, so I assume this is mostly what makes GHD stand out!

I’ll use T4T as a contrasting example, because Skyrim is old and Miraak is niche, but Baldur’s Gate 3 is new/popular and Astarion is a fan favourite. That means there’s a veritable sea of fic about him, so what can you write that will stand out from the many, many other fics out there? It doesn’t have to be the only one of its kind or anything, but it does need to have something special about it.

You’ll want to either go for a strong theme or trope (i.e. soulmates, magical spell curse, we’re both monsters), or change the setting (canon divergence, ‘what if X happened instead?’, or even outright alternate universe and a brand new plot). Personally, I choose to follow the source material but go off-script. I gotta say, nothing makes me sadder than seeing plot and dialogue lifted straight from a game with zero changes made to it. That’s a personal preference obviously, but I think if you write a fic it should strive to do something different to the rest.

⭐Do I have enough enthusiasm to finish it?⭐

This is more applicable to longfic, but you really need to be in love with a story to see it through to the end. Be realistic with yourself, how much free time and energy you have – if you start it, do you think you can finish it?

I have a whole planning process (detailed later) and sometimes I start planning out an idea just to realise I don’t really have the enthusiasm to actually write the whole thing. This is fine! Even just planning is still a writing exercise, and it might spark some different ideas.

Once you have your idea, and you’re confident you’re going to actually write it… then for the love of all that is holy, do not share it in detail with anyone. You can pitch an idea to see if people will be interested but if you go into specifics about story events or certain scenes? You basically get the endorphins from having ‘created’ it, only you haven’t actually created it, and now you’ve had the chemical pay-off you probably never will. Keep your ideas to yourself until you’ve actually written them.

STEP TWO: WRITE THAT DOWN

In terms of writing software, I use Scrivener, which is a paid-for software but is not subscription based (I wouldn’t pay continually for software unless I was reliably writing every day, and sometimes I go ages without being in the mood to write). Scriv’s word processor isn’t the most intuitive thing, but I like its organisation features. This is what a work in progress looks like for me:

That’s essentially a folder (the story) containing a bunch of word documents (the chapters). You could break it down even further and have a chapter folder with each document being individual scenes, then stitch it together later - if writing is a daunting process for you, it’s useful to break it down into small, manageable chunks. You can do this in other software obviously, I just find Scrivener the most visually pleasing.

Set up your writing document, and let’s get to planning what we’re actually going to write!

...Apparently tumblr has a word limit I've exceeded, so I'll write the next bit separately. Here's PART TWO.

[shiningwonderland]

Otoya Ittoki (Repeat)

Translator: Ladylancer (twitter: utatranslations)

Proofreader: Rasenth (twitter: agnadance)

Editor: Whitney (twitter: whitormiss), Snail

August — Allegro na Koudou

As summer vacation begins, many of my classmates leave to visit home.

Tomochika Shibuya: Well then, even though it's bothersome, guess I'll go home.

Haruka Nanami: Oh right, you’re headed back home today.

Tomochika Shibuya: Yep. I’ll be gone for the week…. Hey, aren’t you leaving too?

Select the Phrase!

I was planning to. (+ 0 Love +5 Music)

Haruka Nanami: Ittoki-kun said he always stays in the dorms during summer vacation, so we agreed to spend it practicing together….

Tomochika Shibuya: I see. You decided against going home to keep Otoya company… You’re such a nice person.

Haruka Nanami: N-not really. There's nothing to do when I go home, so I thought it would be better to practice.

We want to practice (+0 Love +10 Music)

Tomochika Shibuya: Wait, you can’t be planning to practice daily?

Haruka Nanami: Yeah. Ittoki-kun isn’t going home either, so we decided we would practice...

This is our chance (+10 Love +0 Music)

Tomochika Shibuya: Chance? Are the two of you planning to practice and raise your intimacy over the break?

Haruka Nanami: Intimacy…? With everyone gone for the break, it's easier to make reservations for recording rooms.

Tomochika Shibuya: That’s what you meant? How boring.

Haruka Nanami: ???

Tomochika Shibuya: Haha, don’t worry about it. I read into it too much, is all.

...What was that all about?

Tomochika Shibuya: Really though, practicing everyday… I feel like I’m gonna fall behind. Alright, I’ve decided. I’ll only stay home for three days and then I’ll come back to practice.

Tomochika Shibuya: I’m one of your rivals after all. I won’t lose to you!

With that, Tomo-chan left for home.

Knowing her, I’m sure she’ll be practicing a lot at home as well.

I’m going to do my best too.

Every day, Ittoki-kun and I work hard practicing together.

He sings the songs I write, and together we refine them.

Now after he sings, we go over the score, giving each other our opinions face to face.

Watching Ittoki-kun get better each day makes me work harder to aim for the top.

But skills can’t be gained quickly that easily, so I keep myself from trying things that are too far beyond our abilities.

That’s why I don’t know how much I should say to him.

Select the Phrase!

Say it honestly (+10 Love +15 Music)

Haruka Nanami: Ah.. about this part here…

I speak up with a timid voice and Ittoki-kun turns to listen to me intently.

Stay silent (+0 Love +10 Music)

On second thought, I’ll keep observing.

Find the right words (+0 Love +0 Music)

I stare at Ittoki-kun, trying to find the words to explain my thoughts.

Otoya Ittoki: Phew, I wonder if it’s coming together now.

Ittoki-kun mutters to himself as he looks at the music sheet.

I open my mouth a bit, but I’m at a loss for words, so I look down without saying anything.

Otoya Ittoki: Huh…. what’s wrong?

Haruka Nanami: Oh, ah, nothing.

Otoya Ittoki: Oh… okay then….

Otoya Ittoki: ...So you think I should soften my voice a bit here?

Eh…? He figured out what I was having trouble asking?

Haruka Nanami: ... Ah, yes. That’s what I was thinking. But, it’s difficult for singers to soften their voice without it making it too hard to hear…

Ittoki-kun, I’m so happy that you thought the same thing.

Otoya Ittoki: It’s fine. I’ve improved as well.

After that, we begin improvising melodies, putting lyrics to them, and singing them on the spot.

We write down the melodies we like and sing them again the next day.

We repeat this process every time.

Then, one day...

Ichinose-san calls me to the back garden.

Tokiya Ichinose: I apologize for asking you to come out here.

Haruka Nanami: It’s fine… May I ask why?

Tokiya Ichinose: I wanted to apologize again about what happened at the water polo tournament…

Haruka Nanami: Oh, no apologies necessary. It wasn’t that big a deal…

Tokiya Ichinose: No, I take full responsibility. I dislike not doing so…. That’s why… here…

Ichinose-san pulls a binder from his bag and hands it to me.

Tokiya Ichinose: These are scores of new songs by my favorite composer that I just happened to get my hands on the other day. If you are interested in them at all…

Haruka Nanami: T-this is…

It’s a binder containing sheet music for the new CD produced by one of the most popular music production teams.

Haruka Nanami: Such a special thing. I-is it really okay for me to have it…?

Tokiya Ichinose: Yes. It will be more useful in your hands than in mine.

Haruka Nanami: T-thank you so very much! I promise I’ll take very good care of them. These are such treasures! I need to enshrine them...!

Tokiya Ichinose: I am pleased that you are happy with it. Now I feel like I have fulfilled my responsibility to you. I will take my leave then…

Haruka Nanami: Yes! Thank you again!

Ah! To get my hands on something like this.... I’ll have to study this closely and carefully!

After that, I head to the classroom to practice with Ittoki-kun, but…

I want to look at the sheet music I just received as soon as possible and it makes it hard to concentrate.

Otoya Ittoki: And then, this part here… Nanami, are you listening?

Suddenly, all I can see is Ittoki-kun’s face.

Haruka Nanami: A-ah, what is it?

I turn my face away from him quickly.

Otoya Ittoki: Nanami, is something bothering you?

Haruka Nanami: Oh, ah… sorry.

Otoya Ittoki: You know, earlier…. Were you meeting with Tokiya?

W-what? Is he angry? He must be angry because I’m so inattentive.

Select the Phrase!

Yes (+0 Love +0 Music)

Haruka Nanami: He wanted to make up for what he did, so he gave me these scores.

I'm sorry (+20 Love +0 Music)

Haruka Nanami: I’m sorry. I was given these really nice scores.

Haruka Nanami: I’m interested in them and I want to read them soon. That’s why… sorry for being so out of it.

I frantically apologize but Ittoki-kun just chuckles and smiles.

H-he laughed at me...

Actually... (+10 Love +0 Music)

Haruka Nanami: To apologize for the incident at the water polo event, he gave me a set of really nice scores, so I’ve been distracted...

Haruka Nanami: But being distracted is not good either. I’m sorry.

Otoya Ittoki: ... A score, huh? That’s just like him… Is that all?

Haruka Nanami: Yes! That’s all~

Otoya Ittoki: I see. That’s all it was… Hey, do you remember what I said after our re-test?

Haruka Nanami:Um…

Back in June, Ittoki-kun beat Ichinose-san at the recording retest.

And he said…

He wanted to… take me… on a date.

Since he never brought it up and summer vacation had long since started, I thought he had forgotten about it.

He remembered…

Haruka Nanami: Do you mean…

Otoya Ittoki: Yep. Please go on a date with me!

Haruka Nanami:A date…

I am fifteen years old but have never been on a date, even though I know what the word means…

What is one supposed to actually do???

Otoya Ittoki: Ah, though I said date, I mean, you know, as a way to deepen our relationship as partners…

Otoya Ittoki: Plus, remember what Rin-chan said? To make the best music and lyrics you have to refine your sensibility and that we can’t just learn from textbooks.

Otoya Ittoki: So... can we go somewhere together tomorrow?

Oh, I see.

Haruka Nanami: O-okay. I... I’ll go with you.

Otoya Ittoki: Ah, then tomorrow, let’s meet up in front of the school at eleven A.M.?

Haruka Nanami: Okay! Tomorrow... at eleven.

Going out together… Thinking about that, I was so excited I could barely focus on practice for the rest of the day.

Haruka Nanami: Haaah... I’m going out with Ittoki-kun tomorrow. What should I wear? What do you think, Kuppuru?

Kuppuru: Meow.

Haruka Nanami: Oh right. You wouldn’t know what to do either, huh?

Tomochika Shibuya: I’m home! Ah, I’m beat… Hm? That cat is back. Kuppuru, right?

Haruka Nanami: Yep!

Kuppuru is a cat I helped on the day of the entrance ceremony. I found him shivering in the back garden in the rain, so I nursed him back to health….

He grew attached to me since then and now he visits my room two or three times a week. Kuppuru listens to me as if he understands what I’m saying, so now I always talk to him.

Tomochika Shibuya: Why not let him stay here? I won’t tell the teachers.

Haruka Nanami: Eh? Is that okay with you?

Tomochika Shibuya: Yeah. He’s fun to have around and, as long as he doesn’t mess up the room, I’m fine with him staying.

Haruka Nanami: Thank you, Tomo-chan!

Tomochika Shibuya: It’s fine, it’s fine! I’ve been practicing so much that I’m never in the dorms anymore, but as long as he’s with you, you won’t be lonely, right?

Haruka Nanami: Okay... oh, that’s right. Tomo-chan, you practice from sunup to sundown. That’s amazing!

Tomochika Shibuya: Well I have to or I’ll fall behind, considering how high the bar my partner is setting is.

Tomochika Shibuya: “I made it easier than before so you should be able to sing it,” he says. Yeah, easy if it was a song for a choir! How am I supposed to sing all those parts with my chest voice?

Tomochika Shibuya: I can’t believe how many times makes me change registers while singing. There are parts where I have to hold a note for longer than needed, notes that lower and raise by half-steps, I can’t sustain my breath, and...

Haruka Nanami: Whoa...

Normally, one sings with their “chest voice”.... You naturally sing from the chest, but as you sing higher, it shifts.

That shift is known as the “head voice”. The point where it changes from the chest to the head is known as a “vocal register transition”, or a passaggio.

If you sing using a mix of the head and chest voices, you can make your high notes have the same quality as your chest voice. But...

It’s easier to switch into head voice if you have the abdominal strength to support it, but…

It’s said that the vocal register transition is the hardest point to get right.

Tomochika Shibuya: The composition teacher professional said before, “I create songs while thinking of the artist I’m making them for.”

Tomochika Shibuya: I was moved when I heard that. My composer doesn’t have one single bit of that consideration in him.

Tomochika Shibuya: Putting aside the chance that he may just be making it difficult for difficulty’s sake, he thinks that what he’s making is simple. He’s so inconsiderate.

Tomochika Shibuya: Even so, I’m still going to give it my all singing it. I mean, I think his songs are good, but I wish he would think about me.

Tomochika Shibuya: Well, either way I will sing my ‘soul’ into this song!

Tomochika Shibuya:... Haruka. Make songs that you can put your feelings into and are fun to sing.

Tomochika Shibuya: I believe you can become that kind of composer.

Haruka Nanami: Yes. I’m doing my best. I will become a composer that thinks of the artist first.

The singer is putting their soul into my song, so I’ll make sure not to slack off. Absolutely…

No matter what kind of songs I write, I’m sure Ittoki-kun will be able to sing it.

That is why… I have to write the best song, one that will make Ittoki-kun shine the brightest…

Tomochika Shibuya: Ah~ man! I wanted to be your partner!

Tomo-chan hugs me tight.

Haruka Nanami: T-Tomo-chan.

Tomochika Shibuya: Won’t you switch for me?

Haruka Nanami: I can’t go that far… When you become a pro, I promise to write you a song!

Tomochika Shibuya: Haruka, you really are cute… Thanks, it’s a promise.

Tomo-chan pats my head.

I have to write a song for Ittoki-kun that makes him shine. For that reason, I have to learn more about him.

That’s why tomorrow’s outing is a good chance.

I’m sure that I will see sides of him that he doesn’t show at school.

I got nervous and showed up an hour early…

Waking up early this morning, I asked Tomo-chan to help me with my outfit, and she did my makeup a little bit too.

I could have stayed at the dorms longer, but then I got nervous about being late due to some sort of trouble…

Otoya Ittoki: Eh..? Nanami? Why are- it's only ten…

No way, Ittoki-kun?!

Select the Phrase!

W-what a coincidence…. (+10 Love +0 Music)

Otoya Ittoki: Y-yeah… It was just by chance…

Otoya Ittoki: Well, since we’re both here, let's head out early.

Haruka Nanami: Y-Yes！

… I got here early. (+20 Love +0 Music)

Otoya Ittoki: Me too… I was excited. Before I realized it, I was here.

Otoya Ittoki: I figured I was arriving too early… To think that you did too… Seems like we are similar in that way.

Haruka Nanami: Y-yeah. Seems like it.

Huh? Was this the right time? (+0 Love +0 Music)

Otoya Ittoki: No, I think we’re supposed to meet an hour later, but I came here early….

Haruka Nanami: Me too. But… I’m glad that I didn’t make you wait. Otoya Ittoki: I didn’t want to make you wait either. I guess we had the same thought. Hahaha!

We arrive at the amusement park, Saotome Kingdom, inside the school grounds.

Otoya Ittoki: Alright, what should we ride first? Nanami, is there something you want to ride on?

Haruka Nanami: Let’s see…

Select the Phrase!

The Surprise House (+0 Love +0 Music)

Otoya Ittoki: Then, let’s go!

Haruka Nanami: Yes!

We assumed it would be like any other surprise house….

As expected from a school facility.

The surprises are certainly more than we bargained for.

Otoya Ittoki: To think, the “Surprise House” was actually the principal’s second home...

Even though the brochure calls it “Shining’s Shock and Surprise House”... it’s actually his home.

Visitors are free to explore the house and if the Principal is home you can get a handshake and pictures.

… But the inside is like a maze, with stairs turning into slides and the walls flipping.... Washbasins drop from the ceiling, water rushes out of drawers when you open them, pitfalls....

It’s like a little trick mansion...

It seems that the principal mainly lives there…

I’m amazed that he can live in such a complicated home…

How about… The House of Terror? (+20 Love +0 Music)

Otoya Ittoki: ....The House of Terror…. Nanami, aren’t you scared?

Haruka Nanami: N-no. I’m fine.

Otoya Ittoki: Say something if you get scared. I'll keep pulling your hand. Leave it to me!! Let’s go.

Otoya Ittoki: …

Otoya Ittoki: ...

Haruka Nanami: ...

T-that was scary… I thought the House of Terror was just a regular haunted house.

I didn’t think it was a museum of true horror stories…

Stories ranging from people becoming anorexic through dieting too much to troubles with frightening neighbors.

Recountings from people who had stalkers to someone getting trapped in an elevator for twenty-four hours.

The scariest of them all though, was the story of the person who dropped out because they made Shining angry.

Even though they had the talent and ability, they angered Shining once.

It said that after that, no agency would take them and they were forced to give up their dream and return to their parent’s home.

Every detail was reproduced vividly and makes me wonder if I’m next…

Either way, it makes me really scared…

The roller coaster (+10 Love +0 Music)

Otoya Ittoki: The roller coaster. Nice choice. Let’s go!

Haruka Nanami: Yeah!

Before today, I never thought of a roller coaster being such a dangerous thing.

Otoya Ittoki: Ahh, that was tough.

Haruka Nanami: Y-yeah. But… we managed to clear it.

Otoya Ittoki: I guess.

As expected of a Saotome Academy roller coaster, it was not ordinary by any means.

When you get in, everything is normal until the safety bar comes down.

Each seat has a camera and microphone, and the speaker begins playing a melody as soon as the ride begins.

Apparently, you have to properly sing and get an interesting reaction while the roller coaster makes a lap.

If you don’t, the safety bar won’t unlock, and you have to go another round.

Singing on the ride is so hard, we finally passed on the fifth lap.

Otoya Ittoki: I don’t want to ride another roller coaster for a while.

Haruka Nanami: Me neither...

Otoya Ittoki: What should we do next? What’s good…

Haruka Nanami: Um….

As I look around, the large Ferris wheel catches my eye.

There shouldn't be any tricky, shocking gimmick on that…. Right?

Haruka Nanami: How about the Ferris wheel…

Otoya Ittoki: Eh…?

Haruka Nanami: ...? Do you not like them? Then I’ll find something else…

Otoya Ittoki: No. It’s not like that… Okay, let’s go.

Haruka Nanami: But…

Otoya Ittoki: It’s fine! I’m fine.

I wonder. It seems like he’s forcing himself… I hope I’m just overthinking things.

From the cabin, I can see the entirety of Saotome Academy.

One rotation takes twenty minutes—a long time for two people to be alone together.

Otoya Ittoki: ... Ugh. The scenery is pretty.

Haruka Nanami: Yeah…

Despite saying that, Ittoki-kun has had his eyes closed the entire time.

Otoya Ittoki: ...

Haruka Nanami: Wow, the school looks so small. Oh, I can even see the dorm. Ittoki-kun, look, look!

Little by little, the ground seems to shrink, looking almost like a miniature town. How cute.

Otoya Ittoki: ... Sorry. I’m at my limit.

Haruka Nanami: Eh...?

Ittoki-kun suddenly stands up, sits down next to me, and grasps my hand tightly.

His hand was shaking slightly...

Haruka Nanami: … Ittoki-kun, could it be you have a fear of heights?

After I ask that, Ittoki-kun’s face turns red as he nods slightly.

Otoya Ittoki: Aw man. I wanted to show you the cool side of me today!

Otoya Ittoki: When I was a kid, I fell out of a tree I was climbing. I’ve had problems with heights ever since…. I thought I was doing better.

His voice is firm, but his shoulders are still shaking slightly.

Otoya Ittoki: Sorry. Can I... borrow your shoulder?

Saying that, Ittoki-kun pulls my shoulder closer to himself.

I reach over and pull Ittoki-kun in a bit closer.

Haruka Nanami: ... Okay.

Otoya Ittoki: I must look really uncool right now.

Haruka Nanami: That’s not true…

I can feel Ittoki-kun’s warmth from where he’s touching my shoulder.

We have touched so many times before, and we’ve been alone together in the classroom so many times, but...

Why am I so nervous today? Only the location and clothes are slightly different… 

Sporty, casual clothes suit Ittoki-kun, unlike the school uniform.

But… The rosary hanging down from his neck looks somewhat feminine and stands out to me. 

A small cross hangs at the end of the crystal beads, glittering beautifully in the reflected sunlight.

He pinches the cross with his fingers and continues wrapping it in the crystals.

It looks like a habit he does when he’s stressed. He’s doing it over and over again.

Ah, again… I can’t help but chuckle and smile to myself.

Otoya Ittoki: Eh… what is it?

Haruka Nanami: Oh, nothing… I was just thinking how you’ve been fiddling with that this entire time.

Otoya Ittoki: Oh, this?

Haruka Nanami: Ittoki-kun, I was surprised to see that you wear a rosary. It’s unexpected. Are you a Christian?

Otoya Ittoki: Ah... yes. My mother was… She was Christian.

Haruka Nanami: Was…?

Otoya Ittoki: Yeah… She passed away a long time ago… She made this herself.

Haruka Nanami: Ah… sorry.

I shouldn’t have asked.

Otoya Ittoki: It’s okay. It happened when I was very young. I don’t even remember her face.

Otoya Ittoki: Plus… later I found out she wasn’t my birth mother.

Haruka Nanami: What do you mean?

Otoya Ittoki: My birth mother left me with her older sister after I was born…. She went missing a short while later.

Haruka Nanami: So, she might be alive somewhere…

Otoya Ittoki: Yeah. I did some searching. About fifteen years ago, a plane crashed somewhere in a desert…

Otoya Ittoki: It appeared to be that she was on that plane, so there’s barely any chance she could have survived.

Otoya Ittoki: My foster father died from an accident before my foster mother died…. Well, I don’t actually know who my birth father is.

Otoya Ittoki: He might still be alive somewhere, but he probably doesn’t even know I exist. I heard that my mom kept me a secret from him.

Otoya Ittoki: I used to think “If I become famous, I can meet him”, and I began aiming to become an idol.

Otoya Ittoki: Though…. Now I’m having so much fun refining my singing and dancing, I don’t mind if I never meet him. That’s how I feel about it.

Haruka Nanami: ... You were always alone…

I was also alone because I wasn’t able to make friends, but I always had my parents. Ittoki-kun… you didn’t have that…

Otoya Ittoki: Don’t make that face. It wasn’t that lonely.

Otoya Ittoki: I grew up in an orphanage, so there were other kids there, and the matron was like a mother to me.

Otoya Ittoki: Plus… I don’t know who, but there was someone who helped me.

Otoya Ittoki: I wasn’t alone at all. And right now… you are in front of me, Haruka.

Haruka Nanami: Ah...

Otoya Ittoki: Oh…? D-did I just call you by your first name?

I nod, staying silent.

Otoya Ittoki: ...!!!

Otoya Ittoki: I can call Masa and Natsuki, even Tomochika by their given names, but it’s kind of embarrassing for me to use yours.

Otoya Ittoki: And… I always wanted to… but…

Otoya Ittoki: I never quite could...

Haruka Nanami: ...

Otoya Ittoki: That’s why… Is it okay if I use your name, just for today?

I want to say yes, but my voice won’t come out. Blushing, I give a small nod.

Otoya Ittoki: Really? Yes! Thank you, Haruka!

‘Haruka’... I feel my chest warm with every use of my name.

Otoya Ittoki: Also, you can do it if you want. Call me Otoya, I mean.

Haruka Nanami: Eh….

Call Ittoki-kun by his given name….

Thump-thump.

Otoya Ittoki: You don’t want to?

Haruka Nanami: No… I… uh…. Yes… I...

Haruka Nanami: O….

M-my heart….

Haruka Nanami: O… to….

It’s three syllables... They won’t come out.

My heart is pounding. I can’t breathe.

… H-huh? My consciousness… is… fading...

Otoya Ittoki: Haruka! Breathe, Breathe! 

... Gasp!

Ittoki-kun gets up in a rush and grabs my shoulder. 

Otoya Ittoki: Ah, you scared me there.

With a sigh of relief, Ittoki-kun sits back next to me.

Otoya Ittoki: Sorry. I got ahead of myself.

Haruka Nanami: No... that’s not it.

I’m the one who has to apologize for my cowardice.

Haruka Nanami: U-um… L... let me try again…

Otoya Ittoki: It’s okay. Don’t stress about it.

He places his hand on my head. Large and warm, a man’s hand…

A small melody begins to unfold in my head, following the steady rhythm of my beating heart.

Otoya Ittoki: But one day, when you want to call me by my given name...

He gazes at me with tender eyes.

And then...

Shining Saotome: LOVE! IS FORBIDDEN! ABSOLUTELY! NO GO NO GO NO GO!!!

Haruka Nanami: !!!!!!!!!

Otoya Ittoki: !!!!!!!!!

The principal’s face appears in the carriage window and mixes in with the view of the sunset.

Otoya Ittoki: Eh, Principal Saotome!! But, we’re... this—top—wha—...eehhhh!

Shining Saotome: HA HA HA~! I thought this may happen, so I installed rockets into my boots!

Looking closer, flames are erupting from the principal’s shoes.

Shining Saotome: Anyways, I am sure neither of you are in love, correct!

We both shook our heads from side to side rapidly.

Shining Saotome: Oh. How odd. I could have sworn I smelled Love Air in this area.

Shining Saotome: Hrm… hrm, hrm, hrm. This is a Special Class Love Air!

Shining Saotome: I see. It’s in the next carriage over! My mistake! SORRY SORRY!

Shining Saotome: BUT, if love blooms, you will be expelled.

Shining Saotome: Don’t forget that. Forget nothing!

Shining Saotome: Now, goodbye. Adieu. Keep your friendship healthy.

With those words, the principal departs to the next carriage.

Otoya Ittoki: … What just….

Haruka Nanami: He watches over us even in places like this. He really cares for his students.

Otoya Ittoki: ... He’s definitely going beyond just “watching over us”.….

Otoya Ittoki: “Love is forbidden”. What a troublesome rule…

Haruka Nanami: Huh?

Otoya Ittoki: Nothing. We still have plenty of daylight left, so let’s make the best of it!

Haruka Nanami: Yeah!

After that day, I met with Ittoki-kun in the classroom nearly everyday.

But for the rest of summer vacation, I was never able to call him by his name.

I hope the day I can call him Otoya-kun comes eventually.

Mini Game

Ringo Tsukimiya: This time around, I want you to try a higher difficulty than before. Don’t worry. I’ll teach you properly~!

Ringo Tsukimiya: Hehe. I may look like this, but I’m a pro, you know! I’m quite good.

Ringo Tsukimiya: Though it’s the same song, I want to show you how the impression one gets can change with how it’s played. Learning this will help you complete your own compositions.

Ringo Tsukimiya: Alrighty. Music, start!

S Rank

Otoya Ittoki: Ah... what should I do? I can’t even look you straight in the eye... I’m partnered with such an amazing girl. Haha. I’m so happy.

Haruka Nanami: That’s my line. I’m happy to be your partner.

Ittoki-kun is a warm, happy and open-minded person who loves music…

As a composer and as a person, I am honored to be paired with such a person.

I definitely want to debut together, because I want the world to hear Ittoki-kun’s song.

Chapter End

[hypherr]

Hi, I am contacting you because I saw you mentioned somewhere that you have adhd, and I was wondering how did you still reached such incredible level. I have adhd too, and drawing has always been my passion also. But despite a whole life of practice, and doodling almost all the time, I always had a very hard time to understand anatomy and other technics, and because of adhd, I can’t focus neither motivate myself consistently to learn technics. I am also very inconsistent to draw proper illustrations, and also struggle to get things finished. Because of this, I have the feeling that I will never improve, and I gave up my life dream to become an illustrator. So, I was wondering how did you reached such incredible level despite of adhd difficulties, and if you had some helpful tips. Best regards.

Hey dude! Yeah, I can totally give you some tips that worked for me up until I got medicated :D I know a LOT of folks have to deal with ADHD, so I’m more than happy to try and give you some advice. 

I will preface that I tend to hyperfixate on things like drawing, so I put 200% effort into learning about it and I enjoy trying new methods of painting/drawing/whatever else. It’s still moreso reliant on the individual artist, but the below list is what I do and have done that kept me going:

Make studying into something that is interesting. By that I mean you don’t have to simply draw/study a pose for life drawing, you can make it interesting by drawing a character in that pose/doing that action so that it becomes something you’re more invested in instead of something you’re doing to just get better. I usually draw my OCs in the poses that I’m studying from pinterest or whatever, and it makes the process a lot more fun -

Do what YOU want, not what others say you should do. Not every style or process is for everyone. Stick with what interests you and it’ll make your ADHD brain happier. Getting trapped into the idea of “Oh, I should be good at line art” or “Oh, I should be really good at drawing in X style” when you’re not really interested in either of those things will bore you to no end. Personally, I settled with the fact that I don’t have patience for line art, I loathe using opaque brushes, and I despise having a million layers on my paintings. SO, I don’t do a line art pass; I just clean up my sketch layer which becomes my line art, I don’t use opaque brushes, and I keep my layers really limited. My way of drawing and painting is kinda unorthodox and I always have to explain it to clients when I send WIPs (I’m srs the way I work confuses ppl, especially non-artists lol), but the end result is always what they hired me for, so there are no complaints. Plus, I am MUCH comfier drawing and painting in my own “unique” way, and they’re cool with that. **NOTE: I still recommend checking out tutorials and such, but don’t feel like the artist who created the tutorial is god and that you must follow their teachings to a T. Ex. I love the artist kawanocy, and I have some Patreon stuff from him. His art process is too slow and clinical for me personally, but I still take bits and pieces from his teachings to incorporate them into my own workflow/my own art hacks. -

Only study when you want to. Naturally this doesn’t apply to you being in school for art (sometimes u gotta cry and just study away for an assignment), but if you’re not in the mood for drawing/studying, just don’t do it. It’s fine to take some time off!! I’ve had periods of months w/o drawing, especially during summer when I was in Uni. Sometimes you need to wait for inspiration to find u again -

Study from artists you admire and it won’t feel like studying.  FIRSTLY do not steal from artists you admire, just study their work. It is fine to trace AS LONG AS YOU DO NOT POST IT AND/OR CLAIM IT AS YOUR OWN WORK. DO NOT DO THAT. I REPEAT, DO NOT CLAIM TRACED WORK AS YOUR OWN WORK. IT IS NOT YOUR OWN WORK. IF YOU POST TRACED WORK, YOU ARE STEALING ARTWORK AND BEING DISGRACEFUL AND DISRESPECTFUL TO THE ARTIST. Tracing is fine for STUDYING ONLY because your hand follows the path of the original artist’s hand and you get a literal feel for how they work and where their pen goes. I don’t rlly do this anymore, but I used to, esp when I wanted to do some low-brainpower studying.  The main point of #4 tho is to not be shy abt taking bits of ppl’s style and using it for yourself. Ex: I really really REALLY admire the art of  @/xafeelgood on instagram. I am particularly in love with the way they draw bodies and faces. @/chenbearpig on insta has an amazing style too, and I love love LOVE the way he paints. @/kawanocy has a very beautiful rendering style, and his lighting is v dramatic and impactful.  Obvi there are more ppl I admire than just those 3, but those were a lot of my inspirations with art when I was in uni, and they helped shape my style and made me excited to keep pursuing art and trying their styles/painting methods. You have to find artists who make you excited to keep going, and just study their art a bit, or watch a speedpaint to see how they make such glorious art. It is really fun and I always enjoy trying to breakdown how they do their art stuffs so that I can try and do smth similar!! -

Don’t give a fuck about how fast other people draw, how good other people are compared to you, or your follower count. The most helpful thing I told myself this year that has sent my career and drawing/painting ability into the next level is, “I don’t care.” So what if other people are better than me? So what if I’m not the greatest artist ever? I’m still good. I’m still getting paid. I’m loving art again. I’m still trying hard. I’m just not getting that worked up abt art anymore. It’s HARD to not give a fuck, I know that, but it’s only art. It’s really not that serious. It’s not life or death. You’re just here to have a good time and work towards getting better at illustration/drawing/whatever, yeah? It’s so cheesy, but we all have our own paths to take to get to where we want to go. I have died inside realizing that people who are like 16 are 100x better than me already. I used to feel like shit and like my progress didn’t mean anything compared to how amazing other people are, but now? I just don’t care. I’m doing my own thing and I’m vibing and enjoying my drawing time, and that is all I can hope for!!

That is all I can think of right now u3u I guess a final note to leave off on is that all of these tips probably won’t 100% work for you, and that’s totally cool. Again, it’s highly dependent on the individual, but I still hope some of these thoughts and suggestions can help you find ways to make drawing fun and interesting for you. 

I hope you keep drawing and illustrating, my dude u7u that is the best way to keep getting better

[ina-nis]

I couldn’t quite put my finger at why the, seemingly, improvement after reading Kantor‘s books started falling apart not long after I was done.

I went through a lot of very good points in the treatment for AvPD described in them and yet... ended up hitting the same wall as always. This is it and...

In the realm of real life experiences, even if you get to a point where, as far as cognition and behaviours are concerned, you can see things in a more positive light, you can truly practice building up your self-esteem, you can truly try and attempt to relate to people in good faith.

And none of those things will necessarily translate into real life circumstances or actions.

(...) rethink favored avoidant positions and goals (...) learn a new more nonavoidant philosophy of life directly by identifying with others (...) whose beliefs and ways are less avoidant (...) emulate people they admire for their social prowess. Or they can read self-help books whose authors take valid nonavoidant positions, such as “be flexible about type” and “don’t compare yourself to others.”

That’s all true. If you surround yourself with more positive (and nonavoidant) people, the logical conclusion is that you would become a more positive and nonavoidant person yourself, right?

There’s a few key differences that are left out of the context - of course - one of the main one is that people who are like that are not... avoidants. They might be naturally more flexible and less prone to comparisons, they probably have a lot of different ways to deal with socialization and likely some kind of positive feedback.

The avoidant person, oftentimes, comes from a place of trauma and negative reinforcement, meaning... positivity and nonavoidance is great in theory but doesn’t really translate well into practice without external positive feedback.

(...) “What’s the worst that can happen if I am rejected?” (...) “I will simply have to go on to the next person.” But still his fear of being rejected persisted, making intimacy impossible. We next worked on understanding the origin of his fear of rejection, how in his case it came from a no longer relevant preoccupation with his mother’s inattentiveness to him (due to her preoccupation with herself) when he was a child. This understanding helped his “So what if I am rejected” mantra hit home, stick, and translate into real behavioral change.

(...) becoming less sensitive to and more accepting of what criticism/rejection they get and cannot ignore. They can tell themselves “rejecting me is your problem, not mine” and that “not everything that happens to is meant for me.”

(...) If I am criticized I will ask myself if the person criticizing me is really important enough for the criticisms to really matter, and if they do really matter, tell myself, “So what.” If I am humiliated, I will ask what it is about the other person that makes it so necessary for him or her to do that to me. If I am rejected, I will tell myself, when applicable, “That’s their problem, and loss, not mine.”

Point one: Kantor uses laser focus on parental issues as the cause of AvPD. That’s a huge problem considering not only abuse or neglect from parents/family/guardians is a cause, but also literal social rejection, bullying, all kinds of bigoted violence, among many, many other things. Depending on how it was originated, it might be more or less difficult to use certain approaches and treatments.

Point two: Rejection occurs -> you don’t care and move onto the next person -> rinse and repeat. Rejection is one of the fundamental core of AvPD, and it can be one of the fundamental causes too. Many avoidants don’t fear rejection they are sensing or “feeling” without reason, they rely on their own experiences, in their minds and bodies, that perceive certain signals (or lack of thereof) as rejection, or potential rejection. Even if the other person doesn’t mean it.

It’s not something they’re taking out of nowhere, as paranoid as it sounds. And the fact that it keeps on happening, just further proves it. Even if you stop caring, it doesn’t change situations and circumstances into good outcomes.

If the solution is to put yourself in a vulnerable place where you’re subjecting yourself to potential rejection because there might be a theoretical, hypothetical scenario in which you will not experience rejection but instead will be accepted and welcomed without having any guarantee that, this time, the outcome will be a good one (not a bad one, nor a neutral one, but a good one), when all you have to work with are bad scenarios or neutral ones, doesn’t sound like the most wise thing, does it?

You’re subjecting yourself to potential trauma and more rejection, pursuing something you’ve yet to experience - and you’re supposed to take inspiration from other people (nonavoidants, most probably) and their “success stories”... hmm.

Also, neutral outcomes might not hurt or traumatize, but they don’t bring anything either. And it’s likely, that you dealt with neutral outcomes that turned sour.

(...) I help motivate patients to become nonavoidant by inspiring them. I do this directly by telling them to “take yourself in hand and act less shy,” and “that you can do it, and you can do it now,” and I do it indirectly by enumerating the benefits and rewards of relating. I note that the rewards of relating are sufficiently great to make it worthwhile to experience the discomfort everyone experiences when attempting to get close to, become intimate with, and to commit to a significant other. I might mention such long-term benefits of nonavoidance as: more satisfying social contacts; experiencing greater admiration from others; having more satisfying sexual relationships; replacing compulsive decision-making with true freedom of choice; developing self-pride over personal and professional achievement; and leaving a worthwhile interpersonal and professional legacy behind.

Inspiration doesn’t necessarily translates into reality. And, again, this is, most likely, seeing life from the point of view of nonavoidants. If you don’t really have many or any successes to look back to, it’s hard to believe there will be successes to look forward to. And, again, it’s very likely your current attempts ended up in neutral or bad (and even retraumatizing) situations.

When the good do occur, they’re merely temporary - hence you feel good about being able to connect or bond, but things fall apart and the “good” wasn’t actually good in the first place, or it was nothing substantial enough to hold the conviction together for you.

Some avoidants might thrive with being able to form relationships at all, while for some others the building up of superficial bonds that take nowhere is a bad outcome.

There’s no amount of fantasizing how life can be so good and plentiful with other people if you don’t get to experience that, and instead, is hurt in the process, as if you were chasing an illusion actually.

(...) exposure helps many avoidants get started relating because they find that they like relating once they try it (...) minor successes help protect against the despair related to future fears of, or actual, social failure. Success breeds success, because real accomplishment enhances self-esteem by promoting self-pride. That in turn enhances self-confidence, which leads to improved functionality. Patients relate successfully, relationships make patients feel good about themselves, patients who feel good about themselves feel more worthy of relating, and patients who feel more worthy of relating relate even better. Third, actually being in a positive relationship helps reduce phobic symptoms.

(...) Some therapists inspire selected avoidant patients by stressing the downsides of being alone while affirming the positive aspects of closeness, intimacy, and commitment. Positive aspects of closeness, intimacy, and commitment range from having a stable life and being loved and supported 

In an ideal world a person with AvPD will take all the steps to overcome their social anxiety, learn social skills, seek people, start making connections and eventually function socially and without distress.

In reality, a lot of avoidants fall under the cracks.

What does “minor success” mean? Is it being able to talk to people at all, and then being able to talk to more people, and then start making friends? Of course, those things will help your self-esteem and sense of relatedness to others. You can be and have many positive relationships.

Are your needs being met in those relationships? Are those relationships balanced ones? How is communication? Is there closeness? Is there intimacy? Is there stability? Do you feel loved? Do you feel supported? If not, is it possible for that to happen?

This is where “good” things take a turn, isn’t it?

(...) Lonely individuals who consciously complain about relationship difficulties but unconsciously remain aloof from close relationships offered, or rupture close relationships that promise, really threaten, to work (…) must convince themselves once and for all that isolation is not splendid but is an unpleasant lonely condition that ranks right up there with pain and hunger. They must tie themselves to the mast and refuse to allow themselves to be carried away by siren songs about the pleasures of being by oneself.

Lonely people who are suffering because they’re lonely don’t like being lonely, they just don’t see a way out. They will see potential relationships as threatening because it’s very, very likely that they were hurt before in similar manners - and it’s also likely that they don’t have positive outcomes they can look forward to, because they haven’t experienced it themselves - so... what someone might say “it’s a relationship that could work but you’re just burying it before it even starts” for an avoidant feels more like cutting the stress by its root before they get too involved and hurt.

It makes sense and it’s based in their reality. Because there’s no guarantees good outcomes will occur (even if hypothetically they “can” occur), the “best and wisest” course of action is to avoid getting more hurt and traumatized.

It’s like people are asking you to gamble on an utopian hope of something you never experienced yourself, but because “everyone does/gets it” so can you. And the price you pay when things end up poorly is too high.

(...) Do I want to be alone or do I fear commitment and intimacy? Do I really believe that isolation is splendid or does something inside warn me of the terrors of connecting, and tell me to stay out of a relationship because my dreams of intimacy will never come true or turn into nightmares? Do I really want to do my own thing or am I afraid of doing my thing with you?

Of course you don’t want to be alone. And you do fear commitment and intimacy because it always seems like there’s a catch, or it’s something conditional, or it’s something temporary.

Who believes isolation is splendid? People are not lonely because they take pleasure in it, this is such a embittered way to look at people with AvPD. Your dreams of intimacy have been but dreams so far so... what do you have to work with that’s tangible and possible to achieve, that doesn’t feel like a fantasy?

Doing your own thing is familiar, reliable and a constant in your life. You don’t know about others and you don’t count on them either.

(...) I will focus on, and single-mindedly make, relationships my ongoing concern. I will not allow myself to be sidetracked in my quest for nonavoidance (…) head for my nonavoidant objectives in a straight line (…) I will do something nonavoidant every day (...) I will keep one eye open for who might be looking at me so that I can react positively, for not noticing is as bad as not reacting. Each day I will review my progress and ask myself, “What have I done to avoid whom today?”

Not avoiding people or things doesn’t mean necessarily that you’ll connect with them. It’s just another step into recovery. When you’re already at a point where you don’t avoid, but nothing much happens after, then things are neutral. You can become a very social person and yet it doesn’t mean you’ll get what you want from people because... when you take those steps further, then bad outcomes seem to arise. That’s the problem.

...

All in all, any attempts at treatment will fall short without adequate outcomes, namely, good ones. And it’s the nature of AvPD that the feedback has to come from the other, not from oneself.

It’s hard to work with avoidance and the trauma it carries because the more you have bad outcomes, the more is likely that bad outcomes will happen without anything even neutral to counterbalance it.

This is why therapy works, until it stops working.

This is why there’s so much behavioural work you can do to keep yourself together, but you still break, sooner or later.

It seems like the only way out is to obtain positive outcomes with other people.

And how can one do that?

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: (INFP, she/her, 40s) It has been 3 years since I last wrote you but I still read your blog weekly - thank you and deep respect to you for offering your time and mind to everyone who finds you. As background, I am still in a state of distress (posts 164077058282, 179696446992, 185438376052) - to briefly summarize your previous responses to my questions: I appear to be showing signs of misuse of Fi as I keep using Te and Si in my life likely because I don’t believe in who I am, lack of self-care because of self-sabotaging social behaviors, and reacting to people as if I think everyone is out to challenge me and hurt me, which stems from an unconscious belief that I cannot handle hurt.

For about 2 years now, I have been working with a registered/licensed counselor for depression and think we have had a good set of interactions. I can’t say definitively that I feel I have made great progress, but I also think it took more than one year of weekly sessions to even get to a point where I feel she now understands more comprehensively my complex upbringing and adult life that have brought me to my current condition.

However, I am becoming a bit lost in terms of how best to further work with her to feel I am moving in the general direction of healing (general direction because I know it’s not a nice, clear path, and always steps forward). We have identified ultra low self-esteem and co-dependent thinking/values with my mother as being the top of my key issues, but I somehow feel the interactions with my counselor are reinforcing instead of relieving or diverging from them.

With our sessions, I have been practicing to incorporate checks on my own thoughts: Is this a negative thought, faulty logic, distorted thinking? Did this come from my mother? Is this a value or desire of me, or of my mother? Etc., etc. Even before working with her, I have had a habit of over-thinking, and now knowing more clearly that I have “issues” with self-esteem and co-dependency, I think I am even more prone to cross examining and challenging my every thought, but thus reinforcing the (false) belief that I am a person with only problematic traits.

An example: I mentioned one time to her that I generally don’t like to repeat, I.e. even if I really love a movie, I generally don’t like to watch it again and prefer to watch a movie I haven’t seen, even if it’s not going to be as good. I can see a lot of value in rewatching, as I am sure I can notice shots or lines that I didn’t notice before, but I somehow just don’t like to proactively repeat. She asked me further on what drove me to this preference and I basically said that it’s because I like the general feeling of making progress and improving and experiencing new things, etc.; I get a feeling I am wasting time and my energy when I repeat things.

My counselor asked whether this is actually motivated by my mother, and her desires for me to succeed and always chase for more money, titles, power, etc. (My mother raised me to think my duty to her as a daughter is to live out the business success that she had the potential for but never pursued fully so I often feel guilty when I do things that don’t contribute somehow to “business success or career progression”.)

I didn’t know what to think because I never felt this is a truism that everybody should follow; it is only my own preference and I don’t enforce it on others at all. I also don’t defend it as a “good” trait and am happy even to label it as a weakness. I started asking myself whether I really need to change this habit or belief of mine since it doesn’t seem to be most critical among all the other traits/issues I have, and furthermore, I don’t even know whether it “originates” from my mother so directly that it is part of the co-dependent thinking I need to carve away from (unlike other beliefs I have that are more clearly “traceable” to her).

But because of my counselor’s question (I say this not in a blaming kind of way, but just to state that she prompted additional thoughts and feelings in me), I feel “oh, so what traits/beliefs belong to me and not my mother? What traits and beliefs of mine can/should I keep? None? Doesn’t that mean I am a person just of problematic traits and beliefs, and that I have nothing worth keeping the way I am right now as a person? How do I tell whether this trait or that belief is of my mother’s, or which is a trait that is ok enough for me to keep and that I don’t have to change?”

This is an example of how I feel that my sessions with my counselor may be reinforcing trains of checking thoughts on myself, reinforcing my ultra low-esteem, since nothing I can come up with a way of thinking, behaving, living can go without such involved and honestly tiring examination. I realize cognitively that even this last sentence is a faulty generalization, but I emotionally can’t seem to escape from this trap or downward spiral.

I have discussed this briefly with her, and know I should/will raise it again because we just touched upon it and then went to another topic. But I also want to see if you would have ideas and suggestions on how I can do better as a patient/client, to be more proactive with my own journey of improvement/healing. I also want to highlight that I don’t think at all she is doing a “bad” job as a counselor; in fact, I think the opposite and want to continue working with her, and want to see how I can make it go even better for me. Thank you for reading this long message.

---------------------

1) Upon reviewing your posts, I wonder whether you are actually mistyped and that is the underlying reason why function development hasn't yielded the expected results. With each batch of details you submit about yourself, I'm seeing more and more evidence contradicting the INFP functional stack. Perhaps you need to do a more thorough type assessment to ensure that you are typed correctly.

Being "unhealthy and misusing a function" (and needing to re/learn the correct ways of your type) is very different than simply not having any idea as to how to use a function properly (i.e. you are just not that type). I'm beginning to think that the latter is more likely in your case. I do warn people that using the wrong functional stack for type development can lead to unintended consequences. Because of my skepticism, I will refrain from mentioning any more particulars about INFP function development.

2) Your method of "introspection" does not sound like introspection at all. It is actually an "interrogation". Generally speaking, interrogation is a systematic method of inquiry that aims to reveal wrongdoing or criminality. Whether or not interrogation works is largely dependent on the amount of anxiety, guilt, or remorse the questions can provoke.

As you suspect, interrogating yourself is unhealthy behavior because it opens with the premise that you are guilty of something or that you are undeniably flawed and deserve punishment. The inquiry isn't meant to nurture your self-awareness but to draw out a confession of guilt for your transgressions and/or an expression of shame for your brokenness. Self-indictment is not the path to psychological well-being because it more likely leads to self-loathing + overcompensation than to self-acceptance + growth.

To be clear, I don't believe your therapist is causing or encouraging you to interrogate yourself. I agree that the therapist's method of questioning has inadvertently triggered an unhealthy self-interrogation habit you already possess but haven't really addressed in a meaningful way.

3) To become an independent and mature adult, it is necessary to go through a stage in life where you question what you have been taught by your parents, peers, and society at large. Only then can you be sure that the beliefs and values you hold are truly yours. However, this process has not gone well for you. Why? It's hard to say without more information about your background and what impeded your ego development.

I don't think you have faltered because you haven't done enough to question and examine your beliefs and values. Perhaps, at your age, this shouldn't be the logical conclusion the way it would be for a young adult. The problem might be more complicated than that. You might've faltered because you don't really have a solid and meaningful conception of what a "value system" is in the first place, i.e., it's not something you naturally generate for yourself or have an affinity for creatively nurturing. Examples of this can be found throughout your previous posts in how you often subtly conflate beliefs, values, preferences, habits, traits, and don't really know how to distinguish between them, let alone understand why the distinctions are of vital importance in self-understanding.

I'm fairly certain you are F and being F means that your decision-making process is significantly compromised when your value system isn't given the importance and priority it deserves. Your values largely determine the direction you go in, so, if you haven't been going in a direction that you consider promising or ideal, there is something amiss with your value system, either in how you have adopted your values or how you apply them during decision-making. It seems that you have immense difficulty staying true to yourself because you don't know yourself, your values, and what you should want, with the degree of confidence/certainty that is required for personal growth. Perhaps it's something to look into.

4) For your purposes, you can think of personal growth as consisting of two stages: i) removing the obstacles that get in the way of personal growth, and ii) visualizing your positive potential and discovering the right ways of realizing it. It is necessary to go through the first stage before attempting the second. The second stage simply isn't possible as long as you have all kinds of obstacles limiting your ability to visualize and realize.

You and your therapist agree that low self-esteem and codependency are the main obstacles. I have touched upon these issues in the past, so you can refer to previous posts. I think the best thing for you at this time is to really focus in on resolving these two issues and perhaps leave aside the idea of function development for awhile.

[brydigdraws]

So these are long overdue lmao

I didn’t quite realise how 2021 was The Year of Crowley (2020 was The Year of Aziraphale) and 2022 was The Year of Izzy until I put these summaries together

I didn’t manage to account for every month these past two years, and 2022 is looking particularly sketchy (quite literally). This is because Shit Went Down :) I’m going to summarise it below for my own benefit▼

Personal/philosophical ramble under cut

In 2021 I had a lot going on, which I think explains the lack of art in June and August (memory’s fuzzy), and why I never posted some of the art in the summary here on tumblr (miiight post Nov and Dec soon-ish). In 2022 things initially screeched to a halt and I had the worst art crisis (and personal crisis tbh) I’ve ever had. Basically I had a really hard time drawing anything without it feeling completely soulless and of worse quality than my actual skill level, which heavily impacted my motivation to draw (sometimes my ofmd obsession came out on top lmao, but that fanart still felt like it was lacking something essential 99% of the time). I drew less, and felt worse for drawing less, which made me draw even less, repeat ad infinitum. It wasn’t until solidly into Autumn that I realised the root of the problem: I had tied the label “artist” so closely to my identity that it had effectively become my identity. And since it was my identity, I felt I had to become a professional artist or be miserable, and in order to become a professional artist I felt I had to constantly focus on honing my skills and get better, nitpick everything in every drawing and strive for impossible perfection, and “draw every day” as all the professional artists advice you to do (I have never managed to draw every day, and my failure to do so made me feel like I was lagging behind). Drawing had slowly but steadily become some insane rat race to me and eventually it ruined my art because I couldn’t appreciate where I was at. Actually finishing a piece of art felt like an incredibly arduous task with little reward (which is why I only really “finished” two pieces last year). I had drained myself of the inherent joy of creating. But realising this didn’t solve the problem, not on its own, because if the fact was “artist is my whole identity” the question then became “If I don’t create art, am I anything at all?”, and the answer for some time was “No.”

I have since found joy and genuine excitement in other types of creating (not that I hadn’t before, but never above a hobbyist level) with potential career opportunities that won’t make my daily life “miserable” (fun fact about me: my biggest fears are the unknown and having my soul ground down by the tireless gears of capitalism). This has helped me stress less about “becoming a professional artist” (something I’m still certain I’d enjoy, despite it all) and find some identity outside of art, but that perfectionist/improvement mindset in relation to my art didn’t start to leave me until a few days before New Year’s. That’s when I was suddenly inspired to make the Ed/Izzy sketch representing Dec ‘22 in the summary above. I had effectively given up on my art at that point, but my mental image was so strong I had to commit it to (digital) paper, no matter if it turned out like shit or not (which, in retrospect, is probably the most visceral motivation an artist can have for practicing their craft). Having no expectations on myself, and with the single-minded drive to capture the ~vibes~ and nothing more, I found the act of drawing fun and near effortless for the first time in fucking years. That’s when it clicked. You don’t have to try and make every aspect of a drawing perfect, and not every drawing needs to be properly rendered; just focus on the one or few most important things you need to be able to convey what it is you want to convey (in this case it was the overall poses and facial expressions). The rest may not be perfect, but it wouldn’t have been even if you tried to make it so, because perfection is fucking unattainable (as much as my chronically perfectionist ass wishes it wasn’t). Trying to attain it is a fool’s errand that’ll slowly eat you up, and your audience will most probably not even notice or care about the difference.

Audiences, especially online audiences, are arguably their own potential source of artist brainrot (and not the fun kind), and I’m of the firm opinion that art can definitely be made for no one’s eyes other than the artist’s own (in opposition to the mindset that the purpose of all art is for it to be shared with external parties) - my own art from years ago being an example of this. But I have found sharing my art with others to be such an inherent joy to me that I don’t think I’ll ever fully stop doing it, and will continue to try my best not to fall into the mental pitfalls that can come with it.

I don’t think my relationship to my own art is fully mended (and I’ve likely failed to see some of the cracks), but it’s definitely better now than it has been in a long, long while.

in short, thanks to edizzy’s dysfunctional marriage for helping me not give up on art I guess

[otstudentwithalife]

Week 2, oh I came back strong!

My patient is a 36-year-old woman who suffered a left cerebral hemisphere ischemic stroke. This resulted in her having right sided weakness, problem with speech and cognitive fallout. Like I said last week, as soon as I saw my patient and she presented in all these ways, I felt my anxiety take over. Little did I know that I was going to weather the storm and figure out what my goals were, what my client needed and wanted and to merge all of that into a rainbow pot of treatment sessions that were going to help her. This brings me to one of the core principles of OT which is client centeredness. We’ve been preached to about this for 3 long years, from the moment we sat down in lecture theatres and had no clue what 

OT is or how to define it when our family members ask us what we’re studying for to right now when we need to remember to take the client’s interests, emotions and personal goals when planning any kind of treatment sessions. “Client centered practice has the effect of achieving greater satisfaction with occupational performance.” (Rodriguez-Bailon et al. 2022)

I fully agree with this article’s conclusions after a randomised examination of the effectiveness of client-centered OT. Results stated that client-centered OT improved client satisfaction with occupational performance compared to conventional interventions. If you really think about it, without our client-centered approach and wholistic view of our patients what about us would make us different to all other members of the multi-disciplinary team? 

This week I went in on fire, with the goal to not repeat last week’s mistakes and focus on having sessions that were going to make my client enjoy seeing me walk through that ward door. But first, I had planned to try to make both our lives easier by planning a session where we would make our own communication board. I felt as though the session would not necessarily be as enjoyable however it would benefit her in the long run. I was completely fine with that, UNTIL…I woke up and went to campus hoping to print out the icons I spent 3 hours labeling and collecting onto a word document so we could have our session and guess what? The machines were not working and instead of breaking into tears like 1st year me would have. I adapted and started brainstorming alternate treatment sessions, and I told myself this exactly “Oh well, she was probably going to be bored anyway” I got to the facility and ransacked the cupboards looking for something that would not only be enjoyable for her but also help me meet my aims for her. Jenga won and she was impeccable! She beat me 5/8 times, and she enjoyed every single moment of it and I was impressed by her ability to completely smash those aims which meant we both won. I not only was able to achieve my aims but I was able to do so while centering the session around my client’s interests which are leisure since she has been at the facility for 3 years and spends all her days seated in a wheelchair watching TV and continues to only require minimal assistance for her ADL’s.

Then came Demo Day, well I left hospital Monday thinking I’ll just do the communication board making session that I couldn’t do previously. But the ethical angel OT on my shoulder said its not only about me treating her but also her enjoying therapy with me to achieve even more satisfying results for both of us. So, I spent 2 days thinking of creative ways that would allow her to be competitive, push herself and still build functional motor skills in her left arm. A table top pinball game with so many twists its barely pinball anymore won the contest. When I say true innovation I mean it, nothing about that game was conventional. That alone stressed me so much I kept the communication board activity as a safety net because 1 think the supervisor said was stuck in my head. She said something along the lines of make sure the demo activity is flop proof, don’t go trying to impress me with something that you’re unsure of and I went and invented a completely new game specifically for my patient and that to me screams client-specific treatment sessions. 

My demo went AMAZING, well as amazing as a completely untested game that I imagined out of thin air can go with someone other than me. I was able to find therapeutic opportunities for future sessions, meet most of my aims and watch my client light up with excitement in the session. So much so that she asked for an extra 15 minutes when I started packing up! 

Client-centered to me means approaching everything we do within OT sessions, with the priority of merging client goals and interests with their rehab goals in order to allow them to feel fulfilled after each session they have with me. I know this is drilled into my head because last week when I planned a session that didn’t give my client the satisfaction in her occupational performance all the others did, I felt very demotivated and felt like I had failed her and wasted my client’s time so I made sure to re-calibrate and remember the 2 golden plaques of OT I now have engraved in my brain which are client-centeredness and wholistic intervention. 

References

Park J. (2018). The influences of client-centered therapy on the level of performance, the level of satisfaction of activity of daily living, and the quality of life of the chronic stroke patients. Journal of physical therapy science, 30(2), 347–350. https://doi.org/10.1589/jpts.30.347

Rodríguez-Bailón, M., López-González, L., & Merchán-Baeza, J. A. (2022). Client-centred practice in occupational therapy after stroke: A systematic review. Scandinavian journal of occupational therapy, 29(2), 89–103. https://doi.org/10.1080/11038128.2020.1856181

Effects of stroke. Johns Hopkins Medicine website. Available at: https://www.hopkinsmedicine.org/health/conditions-and-diseases/stroke/effects-of-stroke. Accessed January 13, 2021.

Ischemic strokes (clots). American Stroke Association website. Available at: American Stroke Association website. Available at: https://www.stroke.org/en/about-stroke/types-of-stroke/ischemic-stroke-clots#.Vk3ipE2FPIU. Accessed January 12, 2021.

[jayneen-archive]

On Self-Love

The worst way that you can ever lose yourself is when you start finding your own happiness in other people. You can only blame yourself for it. It’s probably because you did not see the need to learn about loving yourself first. Well, to be honest, I lost myself that way.

Let me tell you something about me: I have always loved my small circle of friends. It became a habit of mine to constantly ask them about their lives so I could determine how to help them; so they would feel that I care for them. I worry a little too much when they get in trouble. I constantly remind them of what I think is good for them and what is not. I treat them with food when they’re hungry, never leaving enough money for my own when I get hungry. The list goes on, but it all ends just the same: I give away so much that I don’t leave enough for my own well-being.

When I’ve finally drained myself of love, I started looking for it everywhere. I constantly get upset when nobody remembers to ask me about my day; when nobody worries about me when I’m facing a lot of challenges; when nobody treats me food when I’m broke and hungry. Nobody gives me the kind of love I was looking for, and it eventually led to long nights of crying myself to sleep and asking myself if I am even good enough. I felt unloved, unhappy and incomplete.

Only then had I realized that to find myself, I must be the source of my own happiness, instead of finding it in others. So I asked a lot of people on the Internet on how to practice self-love, and most of them repeated five important lessons:

First, recognize and prioritize your needs. That is because only you can provide for the kind of love and care that you yearn to receive from other people. It doesn’t necessarily mean that you won’t care about others; it’s simply about doing what feels right for yourself.

Second, surround yourself with positivity. You would be able to bring out the best in you if you were surrounded by people who love and encourage you. Also, seeing the positive challenges of your inner critic would help a lot in improving yourself, and would lessen the negativity in your life.

Third, stop the comparison. Realize and understand that you are a beautiful work of art, and you need no validation from other people to know your worth. You crafted yourself into an intricate masterpiece from winning and losing and gaining from so many battles in life. You are no carbon copy because the things that make you different makes you stand out from the rest. You are beautiful as you are.

Fourth, forgive yourself. Free your mind from all the worries of your past. You can’t change the mistakes you’ve done then, but you can control what happens next. See it as a learning experience and believe in your ability to change.

And fifth, be good to yourself. Love every part of yourself, every flaw and every perfection. Do things that inspire you daily. Write on a notepad a list of things that make you feel good, and keep adding to the list every time you find something new. Accept that you are indeed a source of many wonderful things. Keep coming back to the love that is inherently yours. Because it is.

I’m still in the process of loving myself enough, and I know it won’t always be easy. But one thing is for sure: It’s going to be worth it. Gautama Buddha once said, “No one saves us but ourselves, no one can and no one may. We ourselves must walk the path.” Let yourself be your own source of love and happiness, so that any other love just adds more candles to the cake you’ve already iced.

[literaila]

ten seconds of space.

spencer reid x reader 

summary: the reader overhears spencer ask for space and well...

warnings: angst, seperation anxiety, intimacy issues, fluff, contridicting myself every sentence. 

a/n: hi darlings! so, maybe you know, that a year ago i started writing again. and maybe you also know that exactly a year ago (in two hours!) i posted my first fic called “space”. it was a birthday present to myself, and so now, so is this. if you enjoyed space i hope you’ll enjoy this! (the only differences are.. improvements i hope). thank you for reading, and getting me here. 

the first one here. 

*

it was something in the air, sure.

it must’ve been something uncontrollable, unexplainable. something in the air.

that’s why you’re staring at him, now, watching him with a familiar sensation in your stomach.

love, maybe? pain, possibly. maybe it’s just because you haven't eaten anything yet, or maybe this feeling is real. you don’t really care, you know.

you just stare, watch his eyelashes flutter against his cheek and resist the urge to reach out to him. in so many ways, you’re resisting the urge.

it’s mornings like this— since nearly a week ago —that you adore most. mornings when you can just pretend until the alarm goes off. when you don’t have to sleep, cold, next to him.

it’s something in the air, something around you, on mornings like this. if you have to put the blame somewhere— and you do because this is shameful, because this is ridiculous and you hate it —you’re going to put it on the air.

and the sun, and the blankets, and your emotions, and this infuriatingly beautiful man who is lying next to you. and those words, terrible words that just won’t-

it’s an immature deflection that you don’t care to think about.

you breathe in, one, two seconds. then, close your eyes and memorize the scent.

your hand reaches out, your eyes are still closed, not ever daring to actually touch spencer’s skin. (never). but, coming just close enough to his cheek, just right there. the warmth, tiny, superfluous, is just enough to keep your hand from daring any closer.

it’s enough to keep the words at bay. to avoid that swell in your chest.

to make sure he’s still sleeping.

…you didn’t mean to eavesdrop. honestly, you trusted spencer, you trusted your friends, and you knew that spencer would tell you if something was going on.

well, used to.

it wasn’t your fault, really, that you slipped up. that you stood on the other side of the door (cracked only slightly, just enough for you to hear) and listened to every word he said.

it was an accidental pause, one that you might wince at every time you thought back. but still, you didn’t mean to eavesdrop.

especially not when he was talking about you, telling JJ that he-

you breathe in again. force the memory away from the front of your mind. you turn to check the clock, making sure to never let your hand drift too far down, and frown when you catch the numbers.

there’s only a few more minutes left of this morning, of this moment. you want to savour every second, but really, how can you do that when you’re not even supposed to be looking at him in the first place?

a scoff emerges from the silence, not loud enough to wake spencer, but enough to bring your attention back to that feeling in your stomach.

love, you swear. why would you be feeling anything else?

you steal another look. watch his parted lips, breathing, watch his eyebrows, his nose, his cheek, his eyelids, and his skin. his skin.

you’re looking at it all, and you know it’s not really there but you can hear something counting down the seconds in your mind. reminding you that this is it. it’s cruel.

finally, you let one fingertip trail along the space under his eyes, you let one fingertip move across his cheek and bask in the exhilaration. spencer doesn’t stir. doesn’t breathe.

you smile, for only a moment.

and then, there’s ten seconds, and you’re moving away from spencer.

there’s nine seconds and the smile on your face is gone.

there’s eight seconds left, left, and you’re closing your eyes briefly. trying to keep that feeling from tearing through them.

there’s seven seconds and you’re rolling on your side, facing away from him.

six seconds.

and then five, and you whisper the rest of the numbers out loud, you breathe and breathe and there’s only one second left.

you don’t jump when the alarm goes off. you don’t move, you don’t breathe.

spencer is sitting up beside you, always meticulous and dependable.

you breathe in once and feel his hand on your shoulder, shaking you awake. you breathe once and turn to look up at him.

“good morning,” he whispers, notes of sleep around his eyes and a soft smile on his face.

you stare, watch, look. you stare for only one second, just to get a chance to look into his eyes, longing for something that’s not really there. and then as every other day this week—

you’re up and out of bed, away from his eyes, within five seconds. you’re in the other room in six.

*

when spencer looks at you later that day— at work, several hours after you stopped thinking —you don’t hesitate to smile.

it’s easy, actually, to act normal from across the room.

it’s easy to enjoy the smile you get in response. it’s easy to enjoy it just for a second.

you turn around though, forget the moment ever happened.

it’s exhausting to pretend this is normal, so terribly easy. it’s too much for the middle of the afternoon, for a boring day at work.

you tune those thoughts out and get back to the paperwork you’re supposed to be finishing. you haven’t noticed the looks your teammates have been giving you lately, so you don’t notice now.

really, it’s not that hard to pretend. not this time.

*

you didn’t mean to eavesdrop when you failed to knock on the door. you didn’t mean to pause, or to turn your head so that you could hear a little bit better.

you didn’t mean to listen, or to turn around a minute later, wet eyes and dry feelings.

it was all an accident.

to be there and to hear. to be taking a file to him at this very moment.

but you are, and you were, and you’re standing there, hanging onto his every word.

“it’s…” there was a murmur, something you couldn’t hear through the door. “suffocating…”

you shouldn’t have been standing there.

“i’m sure y/n isn’t…” the higher voice drifted off, and still, you weren’t supposed to be listening.

“no, no. it’s not them, it’s just-“

this time the voice stopped. you were leaning in closer, curiosity spiked, adrenaline flowing.

you should’ve just walked away.

“i just need some space,” there was something after that, a whisper, a name you knew, a word you could hear. but you were already walking away.

it wasn’t much. it wasn’t a long sentence. it wasn’t anything significant.

except, except. he had whispered your name, just after. he had said the words, the words— that would repeat themselves over and over for god knows how long after —and then he had whispered your name.

i just need some space. he said.

not to you, of course. it was an accident to hear them in the first place.

i just need some space.

you walked away, slouching, unaware of anything else. you tried not to listen, tried not to hear it. begged that pause to erase itself, and begged those words to disappear.

but they couldn’t, and they wouldn’t. and maybe, maybe it wasn’t an accident at all.

*

at home, you move rooms.

you’re learning, you know. learning how to separate yourself, how to keep your distance, how to be better.

how to. how to. how to.

you decided, moments after those words, seconds after that feeling crawled its way up your neck. you decided that you needed to learn how to give spencer space, how to be okay with some more distance.

and that everlasting question, what are you doing wrong?

, well you had to learn how to fix it.

but you’re still learning. and you still yearn to cuddle with him on the couch when he sits next to you. you still want to play with his hair when he’s sitting at his desk. you still want to drag him to get coffee at two in the morning, and laugh with him when he beats you at chess.

you want it all, but, you have to learn. and so, you learn, you navigate and you try to let it all go. smile at spencer, kiss him in the morning, hand him his file at work, and keep your distance.

it’s a perfectly balanced, perfectly organized routine, but he always tilts the scale when he comes to sit down next to you.

when he watches you in the kitchen, and when he comes into the bathroom with you to brush his teeth.

when it hurts, when it burns, when you ask again, what are you doing… but you still try to discreetly move out of the way. when you smile at him then change rooms and pretend this is all normal.

he walks into the room now, book(s) in hand, a happy smile on his face. he watches you and you pretend not to notice. then, he sits next to you, so close, and leans your way.

he smiles some more and whispers out a gentle “hey, love,” as he opens his book.

you acknowledge him with a short “hey,” so quiet that you’re not sure if he heard.

you breathe while he’s right next to you, try to keep your eyes off his hands and off his face and off of him.

and too many seconds later, you’re getting up. you’re swiftly walking away.

and you don’t turn back to look at him. you’re learning.

*

there was something to be said about the feel of his skin.

god, you’re not supposed to be doing this.

something there, addictive, exhilarating, an unstoppable tidal wave of emotion. something to be said about the feel of his skin against yours.

you’re supposed to be walking away right now.

something about his hands and his mouth and this kiss that he’s breathing into you.

what are you doing wrong?

you’re kissing him, you know, you’re kissing him because he grabbed onto your waist. you’re kissing him because once he was close enough, once you could practically taste him, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

you’re kissing him because you miss him and because he grabbed onto you while you were walking by because he grabbed on and he wouldn’t let you go and you missed him so much and—

what are you doing wrong?

you’re not supposed to be doing this.

it’s his voice, it’s his face, it’s his skin, it’s his lips, it’s his everything that finally gets you to break away from him with a gasp.

it’s his words, from before, that finally get you to move away, a few steps back, and catch your breath.

spencer is just staring at you, lips raw, eyes glistening.

he’s so beautiful and this is so terrible.

you smile, tight-lipped, trying not to say anything.

“what?” he asks, he’s smiling back, bigger than you. you’re both still panting.

you can hear those words again, louder, pounding in your ears almost as loud as your heart.

this was a mistake, you know.

“i’m tired,” is all you say. not really answering, not really listening.

but it could be true, it might be true. you’re right next to the bed and it’s so easy to slip in and pretend that whatever just happened didn’t happen.

it’s so easy to forget everything, all of it, to leave yourself standing there on the floor while you lay in bed.

it must be easy for spencer too, because, moments later you feel him move in beside you.

you both fall asleep, inches apart.

*

it's the words that keep you from crying out to him.

it’s the words that stop you from telling him.

it’s those words, so loud, that make sure to lock your secret up. to hide the pain away somewhere no one will ever find it.

except for maybe you, because really, how can you avoid it?

it’s those words, too many and too much, that keep you from talking to spencer. from asking him for help. from begging him for a hug, or a kiss, or even just a glance that lasts longer than five seconds.

you don’t want space, you want to scream at him. but you cant, you won’t, and spencer shouldn’t know. you shouldn’t blame him for the words.

but you hate them, you hate them so much that sometimes you feel as if your chest is going to explode. you think you’re going to collapse if you spend one more night years away from him. you think that you’re almost gone, that you won’t make it. you hate them.

you hate them for making you feel this helpless, for hiding you from spencer. you hate them.

(but maybe. maybe you don’t.

maybe you can’t because they came from him. because they’re a truth that you needed to hear. maybe you love them because they’re so obvious. After all, they’ll keep him here longer.

maybe you love them, secretly.)

it wouldn’t matter if the words weren’t there— pounding in your head, yelling in your ear —anyway, you think.

you and spencer don’t talk much, these days.

*

you aren’t expecting it, when it comes.

or maybe you are. you can't really remember, to be honest.

but you’ve noticed the looks, the frowns, the raised eyebrows. you noticed, you know. you just ignore it. just ignore it all.

so, when it comes, when he’s finally in front of you, finally there. you aren’t expecting it.

not the quip in his voice.

not the harsh way he asks you what’s going on.

not his never-ending stare.

“what?” you ask back, staring at the floor because there’s not much else to stare at.

“what's going on?” he asks again, softer this time. he's standing in front of you, blocking your way through the door. 

you can feel the impatience rising up in your chest. you just want to go lay down, right now. you look up. 

“can i pass, spence?” 

he looks shocked at the words, and for a moment you wonder if it's because you didnt answer, or because you’ve just called him spence. by the look on his face, you guess it could be both. 

you sigh and wait. you’ve been waiting all day. 

you still didnt expect it though. 

“what?” 

“i want to go throu-” 

“no, i heard you. i just...” he pauses, turns around and through the door, complying with you. you move past him. 

this is cruel of you, some part of you knows, this is cruel. but you’ve learned, you’ve practiced for far too long to stop now. 

you cant just stop because spencer asks a question. you cant stop. you wont make another mistake. 

the bile rises in your throat. you push it down with a question, you turn it away, slam the door. 

spencer is looking at you, watching you grab something out of a drawer. you can feel his eyes on your back. 

“what is going on?” he asks again, anger and desperation mixing in his voice this time. you’re glad you cant see his eyes, you note. glad this isnt really happening. 

you’ve been playing pretend for a while. 

“nothing, spencer,” you say, you mutter, you sigh. you’re very tired, you realize. 

“nothing?” he whispers and you turn around to face him. his soft eyes are pleading, now. his face is contorted, his worry is palpable in the air. you dont understand it. 

you’ve been acting perfectly normal. 

there's a longing in your mind that wishes for it to go away. 

you nod at him. 

spencer laughs then, a harsh sound in the quiet room. you dont think you understand anything. “nothing?” he repeats, a doubtful question this time. “you arent even looking at me,” he sighs and runs a hand through his hair and your eyes flick up. “you won't even look at me for more than two seconds at a time and theres nothing going on?” 

you meet his eyes. dont flinch. this is normal. it's very easy. 

“i’m looking at you now,” you offer, a brighter tone, shifting into a happier person in an instant. 

spencers eyes are wide. “thats not-” he groans and moves away, turns toward the bed and paces. you can see his impatience with you, you can feel the tension in the air. 

and despite everything, the voices, the words, the feeling in your stomach you’re trying to push down, you still have to help. somehow, you have to do more. 

“whats wrong, spence? what can i do?” you’re asking, you’re pleading and spencer turns around so fast you have to take a step back. 

“what can...” his voice is drifting off as he observes your face, your terribly blank face. hes walking closer, and you’re taking another step back. 

its painful, to be standing this close to him. painful, to not scream at him, painful to keep it all hidden behind your perfectly placed mask. your face doesnt move though, despite the pain. 

spencer tries again. takes a step forward. you take a step back. 

his eyes are frightened, but you can barely tell. 

“can i touch you?” he asks, soft, a voice you recognize but cant recall. his eyes are careful, his smile is practiced. 

you breathe in and the first flash of emotion hits your eyes. you gulp. can he touch you? you wonder, can he? 

“um,” you pause and nod at him, you pause and try to weigh the outcomes. you try not to freeze. “sure,” 

your words are quiet but spencer is rushing towards you, hes taking your arm in his hand, and hes trying to meet your eyes but you’re looking at the floor again. 

this is so strange. theres something about his skin. 

“are you okay?” he asks, he wonders, he pleads with you again. 

you laugh, trying to liven your voice, trying to push down that stupid- 

you laugh. you nod. “i’m fine,” you say, but your voice is too loud, but you’ve spoken too fast and its coming out wrong. 

spencer whispers your name. it takes all your effort not to look up at him. not to move closer, not to suffocate him with your hug, with your kiss. it takes so much effort to breathe out again. 

he whispers your name. again. 

you dont know if its him, or if its you, but suddenly your chin is up, your eyes are on his and you want to melt under his touch, you want to melt to the floor and disappear into the earth. you want so, so many things that you arent supposed to have. 

“are you okay?” hes asking the same questions again and again, but this question is desperate, helpless. you can hear that. he doesnt understand, you know, and thats terrifying. 

“why, spencer?” you ask, you demand from him in a soft voice. 

you dont need to do this right now. you can just go to bed, you think. you want to move away, you’re sure, but thats such a lie. 

he whispers your name again, takes another step toward you. its threatening in a way, terrifying in its advance. 

“why?” you demand again. “why now?” 

you’re fully in his arms now, his hold quick, strong, as your voice breaks, as your breathing halts. you’re whispering it over and over again, why why why, and spencer doesnt know what to do. he doesnt know whats going on. 

so he asks, one more time. 

“whats going on, love?” 

that feeling is there now, you know, that feeling that is just pain, just longing, just nothing and everything and so much. unbearable, strong, malicious. 

“i’m just trying to give you space,” you sob out, turning, wrapping yourself in him, breathing in the scent of his sweater. you’re crying, but you cant feel the tears. and you’re shaking, but you cant feel your limbs. 

you think, briefly, that spencer must be holding you up but you dont know. 

spencer, in reality, is frozen. hes repeating your words in his head. hes going over them like an equation, something he cant solve. 

just the same as you. 

the two of you, together, think over and over and over again. the words that have been stuck in your head for so long. 

space. space. space. 

its such an evil little word and its attacking you both. you hate it. 

“you heard,” spencer whispers against your head, maybe in awe, maybe in shock. “you werent supposed to hear that,” 

you laugh but it comes out as more of a sob. 

spencer is apologizing, whispering to you, saying “shh, shh,” in your ear. hes trying to console you, but he barely even knows how you figured it out, why you havent spoken to him. 

hes recalling everything thats happened, every kiss, every passing touch, every step you’ve taken away from him.

this is all so shocking. 

you werent expecting any of this. you didnt expect this.

“it was an accident,” you say when you get a moment to breathe, when you gasp just enough to finally take in air. you’re not sure why you’re crying. maybe its spencers hands, or maybe its his voice, or maybe its just the pain in your stomach and in your chest and resting on your throat. 

spencer, then, is grasping at your wrists which are clawing at his shirt, hes trying to breathe with you, trying to get you to look at him. hes trying so hard, but you cant tell. 

it takes a minute, and then, his hands are just soft enough to make you focus, you make you look at him again. they’re enough to breathe. 

“i’m so sorry,” he whispers, void of explanation, eyes pained looking at your face. you rub a rough palm over your cheek, wiping the tears away, trying to claw at something that isnt there. your skin feels raw, your chest feels split open. 

you’re not sure how it happened. 

“spencer,” is all you say. 

“i- i dont-” he sighs and looks down, away from your eyes, sending pangs through your chest again. 

theres something unspoken in the air, your heart beats louder, your chest feels tighter. you dont know what to say next. 

spencer speaks for you. “i’m so sorry,” he repeats, hands grasping onto your face, holding your eyes on his. 

the feeling is so unfamiliar, so strange after weeks of not touching him properly, weeks of getting by with nothing more than a sharp kiss. weeks of nothing, and more and more silence between the two of you. weeks of unbearable, undeniable, pain. 

your mind is reeling in relief but your body doesnt trust him yet. you cant relax. 

he feels the tension, he feels you pause every time he shifts. its doubt, you both know, unspoken in the air. trust, spencer knows now, is gone. trust, you realize then, has been broken. 

trust, has never been your strong suit. 

“i’m sorry,” its another whisper, another plea, another sentence full of nothing. 

and you, you’re just sitting there. you’re just waiting, just listening to him, just trying to trust him with all the fervor you used to have. 

“what happened?” you choked, voice sore. 

spencer, took a deep breath. the contraction of his chest was clear against your body, your hand, still latched on to him. 

and then, 

“avoidant personality disorder affects around 2.5 percent of the population,” he pauses, looks at your face. “it- it affects both men and women equally, and usually, it um, it tends to start early on in childhood.” 

you dont say anything, just watch his eyes, so strange now. 

spencer laughs, but its sad. its lonely. “my mom, she never mentioned anything like it. i didnt even really know what it was until-” a breath. “until i- i started studying psychology and-” 

he stops. looks away from you. 

and you dont know where this is going, you dont understand yet. you’re not like him, you cant piece together a puzzle, solve an equation. you can only listen. 

you’re not sure if you’re hearing clear enough. 

spencer looks at you again, stares for a second. swallows. “even when i learned what it was i didnt believe that i might- that i would have it.” 

he stops again. 

you hear the words. you hear and still you ask, 

“you think you have it?” 

spencer, who is still looking at you, still holding you even though you’re not sure how he can stand it, laughs. he laughs and looks down and frowns then looks up. you cant tell what hes feeling. 

“no, i’m saying i do.” 

“oh.” 

hes speaking some more, teaching you. “a lot of people dont realize that intamcy issues fluctate-- that one day someone can be completely okay and then the next they feel irritated and uncomfortable-” 

and. 

“social isolation is a common symptom of avoidant personality disorder-” 

he tells you more. speaks so fast that its hard to keep up.

“it can span out from abandonment issues, or fear of rejection. kids with deep-rooted trauma are more likely to experience it-” 

he tells you so many things, so many facts. 

and then he stops. 

spencer is holding your head in his hands again, grasping, pleading for something that you dont understand. hes making you look at him with suddenly desperate eyes. “i never meant to hurt you, though. i promise,” 

you blink at him, then nod, eyebrows furrowed. 

“i didnt you to hear that conversation with JJ- and i still wish you hadnt because i was so...i was..” he draws off, nervous, eyes looking back and forth. 

your chest is burning, that pain is still there, still ringing. some voice in your head, spencers maybe, whispers the word again. 

you flinch, almost away from spencer. scared. “you were what?” 

“i was wrong,” 

a moment pauses, spencer is staring, waiting for your reaction. 

and then, after a breath, you laugh. manically. too loud. 

spencer is confused, hes concerned. 

you keep laughing, leaning back to cluch at your waist, leaning away from him and laughing. you dont know why this is funny, you’re not sure, but it is. 

“you’re-” you start, giggling some more. “you’re a genius-” you’re running out of breath, and the tears are falling out of your eyes again, and spencer is still just staring. “you were wrong!” you exclaim, almost mockingly, almost seriously. 

spencer though, still isnt laughing. 

he waits, waits for you to calm down, to look at him again, and then he moves away from you, taking a step back. 

you frown, but his hands are finding yours. his hands are grasping yours with a grip you dont expect. you hold your breath while he stares again. 

“i was wrong,” he repeats, earnestly, urgently. “i didnt realize it until a couple of nights ago, when you moved away after we kissed. when you-” 

you try to interrupt, to explain but he continues, breathless. 

“when you looked at me like you were terrified, like you were making a mistake. you just stared at me for three seconds, and then you left. you didnt explain, didnt speak.” 

“spencer, i-” you start. 

spencer is leaning over to kiss your forehead, to hold you softly in a hug you’ve been waiting weeks for. 

its so strange, to stand here like this. 

“i realized you were avoiding me then.” spencer says, whispers. “i missed you so much and i didnt even realize it,” 

you breathe in. shocked. 

“i’m sorry,” 

“no,” 

“yes, love, i never wanted you to feel like that. to hurt you like i did, like i am.” spencer looks ashamed but you press on, scowl on your face. 

“no, no, no.” you move back, stare at him with hard eyes with a soft face. “i needed to know, spencer. if you need something, even distance from me, than i needed to know.” 

you know thats why you listened, you know that your pause had a reason. it was never an accident to know the truth-- to give spencer what he needed. 

it was easy, when you thought thats what he wanted. 

“i was wrong, though-” 

“i needed to know.” 

spencer stares at you, for the millionth time. he looks at your unwavering eyes, your stern faces. he sees it, the fear, the worry that he’ll move back, or leave, or run away from you. he can see it. 

but you, you’re just standing there. you, you changed everything just so he would be happy. 

he sees the sacrifice now, curses himself for it. 

but all he says is “okay,” and then, taking a step forward, he repeats it. “okay.” 

“okay?” you ask, voice small. 

“yes, okay. i will tell you. i’ll tell you everything,” he promises, intense eyes, and stronghold on you. 

he pulls you in again. 

its enough. its enough to fade that pain down into a simmer, to turn trust inside out again, to straighten the pins you’ve put up on the wall. 

the words are there still, but they’re distant, like the chime of an old clock, but quiet. broken. 

its so overwhelming, to be in his arms again. 

but you fall, even still, you hold him back even tighter than before, you trust that hes going to stay there. 

and the ten seconds start again. 

you’re scared, still, with nine seconds. scared that this isnt going to last, that hes going to change his mind, that hes going to realize hes right. 

you’re breathing, at eight seconds, thinking about these weeks without him, about this comfort in his eyes, in his arms. you’re thinking about how hes here right now, about how thats the only thing that matters. 

you’re smiling at seven seconds, tick-tock, as you breathe him in, as you taste the air and realize that theres always been something about his touch. 

at six seconds, hes whispering in your ear, a quiet “i love you” a meaningful promise that you’ve missed dearly. 

at five, you’re whispering back, you’re promising, you’re breathing, you’re trying not to think, trying not to worry. 

at four, you’re kissing his lips, you’re molding yourself to him once again. 

at three, hes gripping your waist, kissing you like he never has before. 

at two, you’re whispering “stay” against his lips, tasting him, pulling him, begging him. you’re not afraid to speak this time, and you dont need to pull back. 

and then and then and then, you’re holding each other and theres only one second left, theres just one tiny little moment left. 

and it’ll last a lifetime. 

*

my masterlist here. 

[yesimwriting]

Would you write a Kaz Brekker request where the reader is a bookworm and a crow and basically Kaz asks the reader to read to him as his way of apologizing after a argument that was his fault?

 it ​​a/n i did something kinda similar in a 'promise of rain' blurb,, but this concept is so cute to me:)) love it sm i moved it up my request cue lol

also IM IN COLLEGE NOW!! WHAT?? AND IVE BEEN TO A PARTY! AND IM JOINING A SORORITY AND I DID DRAMA AUDITIONS AND AHH !! SO DIFFERENT! I MISS MY MOM AND SISTER AND DOG AND EVEN MY DAD BUT IM HAPPY HERE!! 

also im a little worried this might not portray kaz superrrrr accurately bc it's been awhile so just let me know,, feedback leads to improvement:)) also kinda set this up for a part 2 bc...well youll see 

--

They've always said a lot of things about him, and I've always heard them. But I've never quite believed them. Sure, I get why the dark things that have flourished in the poisoned soil that is Ketterdam consider Kaz Brekker the darkest thing of all. I understand the nickname 'Dirtyhands' for the gloved criminal who has fooled each crime boss at least once. I understand each terrible thing they've said about him.

But I've never agreed with them. I've never even considered agreeing with them. Until today.

The thought that maybe everything people say about him is correct in a simple context struck me worse than the silence after our argument. It made me feel like both a fool and hypocrite. Kaz and I have had our fair share of spats over the relatively short time we've known each other, but never like this. Never so badly he stormed out of the room before I could. I squeeze the book in my lap even harder, desperate to focus on the words on the pages.

You didn't hurt him. He walked away because he decided you weren't worth the cost of his expensive time. I repeat those thoughts in my mind over and over again, letting them bitter me further. It's a lot easier to be mad than hurt. A lot easier to fuel your pain than try to understand your mistakes. Besides, tiredness is already dredging around in my chest and if I don't calm down a little I won't be able to fall asleep.

I had escalated the fight more than I should have. Knowing Kaz is like performing in a tightrope act. One must always be aware of where they're going. Watching what's in front of them without ever thinking too much about what's beneath or behind them. Today though, when I needed my balance most I chose to fall. I chose to dive, and apparently there was no net.

"Oh, you're doing that thing."

I roll my eyes at Jesper's voice as I fight down a yawn. I wipe my face with the back of my palm before turning. The burning behind my eyes never resulted in full tears, but I feel better after doing so. "What thing?"

"That terribly noble thing where you find it in yourself to take full blame for every single conflict you and boss man fall into." The slight humor in his voice is enough for me to roll my eyes again. "Between you and me, I'm sure the reason he's so angry now is because you didn't do that for once."

I press my lips together as my chin angles itself upwards slightly. "I never do that." He raises an eyebrow. The slight sympathy that colors the look is more offensive than his accusation. "If I pick and choose my battles, it's for good reason."

"Clearly."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs once before further entering my room. I say nothing when he sits at the foot of my bed. "Oh, you know," Jesper stretches back casually, resting his back against the wall and extending his legs, "You and Kaz--Kaz and you."

Has he been drinking? Perhaps he's not here because of my unusual absence from downstairs after my fight with Kaz but because he's already too tipsy to think right. "What?"

At my confused look he grins, flashing all of his teeth with an arrogance that outshines the whiteness of them. He taps the still open book in my lap. "Let me put it in terms you'll understand." Jesper sits up a little further, amusement clear in his features. "You two make a shameful Elizabeth and Darcy--"

"Oh, shut up," I groan, glaring at him, "This isn't Pride and Prejudice. And Kaz and I," Jesper's smugness returns when I can't quite think of what I want to say, "We're barely friends--we're barely anything, let alone what you're implying."

Jesper pulls his legs up and shoves me gently. "Dearest, y/n," he ignores my glare, "You should know better than anyone that 'barely friends, barely anything' with Kaz is more than it is with anyone else?"

"That doesn't mea--"

"You two say goodnight to each other." Once. Kaz and I said good night to each other in front of Jesper once. How dare he assume it happens regularly? He's right, but that doesn't mean I'm okay with it. "You play cards with him. Not for money, not for skill--"

"It's for practice." The look Jesper gives me is enough to tell me that my defense didn't land.

Damn him for ever finding Kaz and I on one of those strange nights. One of those nights in which he lurks at the stairwell...the one that divides my room and his attic. One of those nights in which it feels like he's a phantom and I'm the only one that can really see him. A night in which we both silently find each other.

I couldn't quite believe it the first time it happened. I'm not exactly a Crow--I don't feel enough a connection to the Dregs to join them without some kind of guarantee--but I was needed for some obscure job. but I was needed for some obscure job. The Crows needed an insider who could blend into high society, and I needed a place to stay away from my father.

It worked. I worked. And with each passing day I found myself enjoying the Crows more and more. That's why I stayed. That's why I started checking the stairwell practically every night, a set of playing cards in my hand.

The first time had been awkward. I couldn't sleep and my room felt too quiet, but the rambunctious club felt too loud and a little unsafe considering the hour. So I settled for the only space in between. When Kaz found me sitting on the steps and playing a solitary card game I had been so stunned by embarrassment I just offered to deal him in. I had been more shocked when he silently accepted my offer.

"Practice?" Jesper repeats. "You were laughing, I heard you."

"That was one time--how do you know we didn't just happen to play cards together the one time you saw it?"

"Because you laughed about a play you considered 'predictable'."

Sighing, I sit up a little straighter. "I'm not having this conversation. Occasionally saying 'goodnight' to someone who lives in the same space I live in and sometimes playing cards with said person because we both happen to be up at a certain time doesn't mean anything."

"And the way he looked at the contact that was flirting with you?"

Oh...this conversation again. "For the last time, the contact wasn't flirting with me. We had to dance to blend in and when he leaned towards me to whisper in my ear...it was to tell me the intel Kaz just had to have."

"And when he tucked that strand of hair behind your ear?"

"He just wanted to sell our cove--"

"Y/n, he kissed your cheek and I'm fairly certain he would have kissed you if Kaz and I hadn't made it to the corridor at that second."

Why is everyone so obsessed with what would have never happened? The contact had been attractive, tall with fair eyes and hair. But it's not like I feel anything for him, nor would I have been so foolish during a job. A fact that Kaz refuses to believe. I'm tired of this argument...I'm just tired. This job required me to start getting ready early in the morning and lasted long into the night.

"I wouldn't have kissed him and even if I had, the fact that Kaz is so mad about feels...sexist." A stupid argument, considering that Kaz couldn't care less if the person he's working with is female, male, or anything in between because the only thing he cares about is profit. "It's a stupid thing to be mad about, but you hit on anything with a pulse at any time and--"

"I resent that--"

"For the first two weeks I was here I thought you might've been a prostitute."

I can feel him holding in a laugh. "Did you at least think I was a good prostitute?" When I glare again, he finally actually laughs. "Not the point--got it."

"Then what is the point? You're bored and obsessed with gossip so now you're shaking me for information you don't need."

"The point is you're oblivious." Rude...I move my leg in a weak attempt to push him off my bed. Jesper catches my ankle easily, ignoring my attempt at a fight. "You thought the contact was only doing his job and you don't know the real reason that Kaz blew up at you for the first time the way he blows up at everyone."

"Okay, well since you know everything, tell me why he's mad."

He lets out a sigh like he can't believe I even needed to ask that. "It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy."

...Maybe he is drunk? "Don't be so cryptic. I don't like you enough to put up with that."

Jesper half-sighs again before pushing himself off my bed. "I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that."

"Asshole," I mumble instinctually as he walks towards my door. "Are you not telling me because I tried to push you off the bed?"

He turns when he reaches my door in order to lean against my door frame. "It's not not because of that." I should throw my book at his head. "In all seriousness, think about it. If you don't you'll either kill each other or kill me."

Ugh...he's so confusing. This time, I let him go. He leaves he door open, which is beyond annoying. I stand up to close it, promising myself I will focus on my book the second it's in my hands again. As I walk back towards my bed, my eyes land on the deck of cards on my nightstand.

Does it send a signal I don't want to send if I don't go the stairwell tonight? Do I want to send a signal? I don't know...actually, the only thing I know is that I don't want to think about this a second longer. I don't ease as I read, but my eyelids become heavier with each word they cross. I feel the weight of them as my focus slips, farther and farther away until I can no longer focus. When my eyes fall shut I can't bring myself to think or force them open.

--

I notice my surprised before I register that I've just woken up. Falling asleep feels so far and yet the crick in my neck confirms the obvious. Rubbing the eyes with the back of my hand, I push my book from my lap and sit up. The only indication of how much time has passed is how much my bedside candle has melted.

How long have I been asleep? How did I manage to fall asleep? I thought I was too mad at Kaz to manage anything but pouting in my room. I hadn't even decided if I wanted to talk to him.

I stand even though I haven't decided anything. I should at least change if I want to go to bed. But is leaving this alone for even longer a bad idea? I think Jesper thought so...though my conversation with him is far from clear. It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy. I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that. What does he want me to do with that?

Maybe he was partially intoxicated and felt the need to play the role of a good friend. Or maybe this is his idea of a joke.

Whatever--regardless of Jesper, I have a choice to make. A tiny part of me hopes it's insignificant, but I know Kaz enough to know that nothing is insignificant to him. He holds onto things the way he holds onto his kruge. Perhaps I'll seek out Inej, she seems to be the best at rationalizing. Though she might be asleep by now, or on a job or...I don't even know.

How late is it? Is it late enough to be one of the few hours Kaz claims to reserve for sleep? Maybe my bad luck is still around and he's already in bed for once. Does that mean his anger will extend to tomorrow?

I shouldn't care. It's not like I'm in the wrong. Did I escalate things? Maybe a little...but I won't apologize for defending myself. Even though that makes everything a little easier. I feel stuck, like in some kind of place of half sleep. A single knock at my door is enough to make me want to jump. I rub my eyes a little more firmly in hopes of waking up more before someone sees me.

I approach the door without worry. Maybe it's not as late as I assumed. Or maybe it's really early? I open the door while still fighting against my slight disorientation. I'm so focused on acting normal, I almost don’t register the person standing at my door. 

I don’t know who I expected, or what--maybe Jesper, much more tipsy than he was before, slumped against the doorframe, only knocking because he’s too tired to push the door open. Maybe even Inej, on her way here to deliver some kind of job or notice of dismissal. But it’s nothing I could expect. It’s...Kaz. 

The Dirtyhands stands at my door, expression as hard as ever yet something behind his eyes that burns the sleep away from me. “Uh--hi.” I bite my tongue to avoid cringing at that very awkward beginning. “Are you here to kick me out yourself?” The only response I get is the slightest shift of his gaze off of my face. “No? Well then I think I’m going to bed. It’s late.” 

My tone and words are clear. Get out of my doorway, I’m in no mood to go back to arguing.  When he still doesn’t say anything, I’m emboldened by my nerves. I push the door between us without breaking eye contact. 

Before the wood can meet the doorframe, he moves his cane, wedging it between us. “Y/n.” I don’t understand the way he says my name, but I’m certain he’s never said it like that. “I...” When he’s not prompted by the uncomfortableness of silence, I raise an eyebrow, my grip on the door tightening. “What I said shouldn’t have been said.” Wait--is he admitting fault? I’m so thrown I almost melt entirely. “Not to you.” 

The addition leaves him so lowly a part of me wonders if I’ve imagined it. I’m so thrown by it I don’t even think to reply until a long second has passed. “You seemed to believe the opposite a few hours ago.” 

His lips press together for a moment. “You didn’t ask me to play cards tonight.” He took that as intentional? At least that got me some kind of apology? I keep my mouth shut, greed making me want more information. I guess he must sense my silent tugging because he head inclines slightly. “Don’t push.” 

I fight down a grin. “Push what?” His only response to stiffen further. “I’m going to tell you something as a peace offering.” That seems to intrigue him in some way. I can’t tell if it’s a good kind of interested, but I note the slight raise of his eyebrows and his intentional silence. “I didn’t chose not to ask you to play cards.” He gives me no indication of anything, which is fair...considering my vagueness. “I was mad, obviously, and in the middle of deciding on a course of action...and then I fell asleep.” 

A long pause of silence. “You fell asleep?” 

I’m not sure if his incredulous tone should offend me or not. If I wanted to lie, I’d like to think he knows me well enough to know that I’d have thought of a better excuse than that. Or at least a less embarrassing one. “Yes, it’s not that difficult to believe. Today had been long and all I wanted to do was read, but then Jesper came in to say the oddest things and then leave me to...” 

Oh--oh. I guess there’s a reason people say to ‘sleep on’ something. Because now, actively remembering Jesper’s words for the first time since I fell asleep...I understand what Jesper was implying in the oddest way possible. He meant that Kaz and I...that perhaps there is a Kaz and I in a context that’s more than just grammatical. Wow. I really had to realize this with Kaz right in front of me. 

My face feels warmer than it did before, an irrational bout of anxiety forcing me to consider that me might be able to read impossible, embarrassing thoughts from my expression alone. 

“What did Jesper say?” I’m too lost in my own spiral of confusion and panic and some feeling I can’t recognize to register how Kaz asks his question. There’s an edge to it, an odd one, but that could easily just be Kaz. 

This is most definitely the last conversation we need to be having. I’m still mad at him for his earlier dramatics. So I just shake my head, feigning an exhaustion I could lose myself in. “Nothing and everything all at once.” I resist the urge to rub my eyes again. “I’m pretty sure he was drinking, and I wasn’t really listening. I was just trying to read.” 

Kaz’s expression hardens briefly as he takes in my words, and then he exhales, nodding once with the breath. “What were you reading?” 

My lips part instinctually, ready to spew off details about the latest novel that’s captured my attention. But before I can let myself take off, the reality of the situation strikes me directly in the chest. This is not Nina, or Inej, or even Jesper after what he considers a ‘good night’. This is Kaz Brekker, the man believed to not have a soul. I’ve spoken to him before about casual things, though most of the nights in which we end up playing cards or just sitting near each other are spent in silence. But he’s never prompted me before. Not in the one topic he knows is guaranteed to turn me into an overenthusiastic, gushing fountain of poor summaries and character analysis. 

I guess this is his peace offering. This shouldn’t warm the way it does. He was still unbelievably dramatic and treated me like I’m some kind of unreliable fool. “It’s late, and you know how I can be. I’d hate to keep you for nothing more than a poor summary and honestly, an embarrassing rant about plot or characters, because there’s just nothing as frustrating as when two people so clearly care about each other and both are too stubborn and oblivious to acknowledge it.” 

Kaz’s eyebrows draw together just enough for me to be able to make out a shift of expression in the poor light. Perhaps his lingering irritation is preparing to rear its ugly head. The corner of his mouth seems to threaten to tilt upwards as Kaz angles his head to the side slightly. “I can’t imagine that position.” 

No kidding. I bite my tongue to keep the sarcastic comment and awkward laugh that would sure follow it away. “Who can? That’s like half the point of reading.” 

How can interaction feel so over and just at its beginning all at once? I press my lips together to avoid filling the silence with things I’d no doubt instantly regret. It’s easy to be mad at Kaz in the moment. Too easy. But to stay mad at him when his temper has passed and he returns with some kind of begrudging and admittedly awkward and uncertain truce is another task entirely. 

“I’ve never understood your attachment to written words.” 

“It’s not about understanding, it’s about everything else.” 

“And you say I’m cryptic.” Is he...kinda almost joking? I straighten my spine, too tired to fight and too wounded to forgive. “There’s understanding in everything, nothing can survive on sentiment alone.” 

“If you read the way I did, you’d understand.” 

His lips press together as his expression remains unwavering in its hardness. “Read to me.” 

...Interacting with Kaz in any way often leaves me feeling like I’m wandering through unknown territory. But this, this is undeniably different. So different I can’t even think of a way to react. I watch his expression as cautiously as possible. He’s purely reserved, no distinction from the look he wears during business propositions. Except there’s a tightness I can’t quite understand.

Maybe it’s because I don’t want to fight anymore. Maybe it’s because exhaustion is leaving me partially delirious. Or maybe it’s the weird feeling in my chest that I can’t quite place. That I don’t want to place. “Okay.” I shift carefully. “If for no other reason then to prove you wrong.” 

Never did I think I’d end up in the position of sitting in my bed, book in hand, with Kaz Brekker sitting next to me. But here we are. I’m so tired, I almost let out a nervous laugh when he first walked in. So brooding and tall, gripping the head of his head cane as he sits at the foot of my bed, on my pastel quilt. 

I’m glad for the excuse to keep my gaze away from him and on the words in front of me. I read out loud, feeling more and more comfortable with each page I finish. But as my inhibitions slip away, so dos my hold on consciousness. My eyelids seem to grow heavier with each word that I read. 

“You’re falling asleep.” 

I straighten my spine on instinct. “Am not.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to deny something so simple. 

“You’re impossible.” 

From him, that statement is laugh worthy. “I’m impossible? Do you not remember earlier today?” 

From the way his jaw locks, I realize that he’s in no mood to be light about this topic. I don’t understand why. It’s not like I’m the one that wronged him. “I remember your lack of focus.” 

Keeping my hands at my side to avoid rubbing my eyes, I frown. “If you want to have this argument again, fine. Jesper is more ‘distracted’ than me half the time and you’re much more lenient on him. It’s not like I was flirting with someone or gambling or doing anything but having a two second conversation. One that I needed to have to get information that you wanted.” 

The last time we fought, I had more energy to restrain myself. This could be atomic. I hold my breath, waiting for Kaz’s retaliation. He exhales, eyes not meeting mine. “Arguing with you when you’re present is exhausting enough. It’s not worth it when you’re half asleep.” 

This angers me further. I hate that he’s right. “I’m not half asleep.” He leaves it at that. I glare even harder at him, slumping further into my bed. “But for the sake of argument, I’ll drop it. Something you’re incapable of doing.” 

At that, his eyes meet mine. I try to hold his gaze, but the harder I think about not seeming tired the more exhaustion slips in. A yawn escapes me before he looks away. Great. “I know when to lie in the grass in wait.” 

Rolling my eyes, I shift back slightly. He’s incapable of being less dramatic than this. Still, I can’t imagine the effort it’s taking on his part to not start an argument. Maybe this is why Jesper spent so long implying that there may be a Kaz and I in any capacity beyond a vague kind of friendship. “I’ll admit you’re tactful.”

“Resourceful people recognize that trait in other people.” 

Blinking twice, I lower my book slightly. Am I truly exhausted, or did he just compliment me in a way? “Careful, I may start to think you find me tolerable.” 

“Let’s not exaggerate.” Okay, now I know I’m exhausted because I think he might have just attempted a joke. Rolling my eyes, I decide not to acknowledge this lightness in fear that I’ll scare it away. “Y/n?” 

I press my lips together, worried about the destruction of our peace. “Yes?” 

“What did Jesper say to you? Earlier?” I pause, slightly unsure why we’re moving backwards. 

We’re in a decent place now, and I’d hate to ruin it. I’m too half asleep to lie eloquently. And it’s not like he’s an easily convinced man. “Oh, he said it so cryptically it took me longer than it should have to understand. And it didn’t help that it was something so...well, you might find it funny. As funny as you find anything, anyways.” Wow...I’ve spent such a long time talking. Rubbing the back of my eyes, I avoid his gaze. Exhaustion and awkwardness mix in my stomach oddly. “It seemed like he was trying to imply that you and I...me and you...” Why is this a difficult thing to say? It’s not like I was implying it and Jesper’s known for his oddness. “I think Jesper was implying that there was a you and I, or at least that there could be.” I’m too lost in a haze of almost sleep to watch his reaction. I let my head rest against my headboard even further. “Isn’t that odd?” 

He’s quiet for a long second, and then he finally speaks again. “Odd, even for Jesper.” The response doesn’t satiate me...what’s that about? I exhale, deciding that feeling is tomorrow’s problem. When I blink, I decide to let my eyes stay closed. Just for a moment. The sound of something shifting is what makes my eyes squint open. Kaz is standing, his expression unreadable as he straightens. “Goodnight, y/n.” 

At that, I sit up slightly, ignoring the exhaustion behind my eyes. “I haven’t finished the chapter.” 

“You’ve convinced me of enough.” A concession? How exhausted do I seem? My lips press together as I think of my next argument. Before I can get it out, Kaz leans forward. He grabs the quilt at the end of my bed and tosses it onto my legs casually. “Goodnight, y/n.” The meaning of his repetition is clear. His word is final. 

I find enough energy to manage a glare, but I pull the quilt over my legs anyways. “Goodnight, Kaz.”

[shiningwonderland]

Tokiya Ichinose (Repeat) Memorial

Translator: Koto (twitter: kotowari16)

Proofreader: Mimi (twitter: _mimisaurora)

Completely sealing my "love" away.

When I initially made my debut as HAYATO, I could still sing my songs decently despite his character being very far from my usual image.

HAYATO had started to sell well, so I was told it fine to just bring out songs.

I had initially been given two weeks to practice, but that turned into one week, then into three days… and eventually I wasn’t even given one day….

I’m the kind of person who carefully thinks about this singing. Because of my reduced practice time, I couldn’t keep up the quality. It would be in bad taste to call whatever HAYATO’s bringing out “songs”.

“Alright, here’s the demo track of this CD… and here are the lyrics. You have one hour to learn them; we’ll be recording after.”

“What…?”

It had become quite common these days for my manager to tell me while in a taxi on the way.

“In one hour? No way. What about lessons? I won’t be able to sing this properly then.”

I didn’t know if someone could overhear us, so I had no choice but to act like HAYATO even in a place like this.

“The rhythm and pitch can be chachachacha modified mechanically, it’s more than enough if you can hear the lyrics.”

“That…. I want to sing more properly. One week, even 3 days would be…”

“It’s alright. The technology has improved recently, so the engineers can do a good job.”

I couldn’t forgive that.

In the short window of one hour that I was given, I could never reach a level that I was satisfied with. No matter how much effort, singing skills or how well I actually sang during the production. 

My chest hurt whenever I fen letter mentioned that the writer loved HAYATO’s songs. 

I want to sing with everything I have.

I want to deliver my true song.

I want to sing, not as HAYATO, but as Ichinose Tokiya.

I want to deliver a song that I myself agree with.

In such a short time, I have no time to put my heart into the song either.

And what’s more, I don’t want to lie to my fans anymore.

For those who say that they like the current HAYATO, how he’s been constructed until this point… and for Haruka as well, this current HAYATO won’t do. Absolutely not.

“Haruka, I will definitely become an idol. I will debut as Ichinose Tokiya. I ask if you can make a song with that same intention.”

I sounded enthusiastic while creating the song for the graduation audition, almost as if I was talking ot myself.

“Okay!”

She’s always following me very obediently. 

Always supporting me, encouraging me with her smile.

Before I knew, I was attracted to that smile, and her musical talent.

I was very aware that I was attracted to her, so I was desperately trying to stop those feelings.

If you’re going to be an idol, you have to discard your love.

That’s the rule here.

I want to debut as Ichinose Tokiya.

And I want for Haruka to become a composer as well.

What should I do with these feelings that grow stronger every day…?

I would be glad if I was the only one who loved and it was otherwise unrequited. As long as I would keep silent about how I felt, this story would be over….

However…

“Haruka….”

I called her name and softly placed the palm of my hand on hers.

“Ah…. W-what is it…?”

When our hands touched, she blushed, trembled and made an expression like she was lost.

“No, it’s nothing.”

When our hands separated, she looked a bit disappointed, if only a little…

She had already put her other hand on the back of the hand I touched, and brought it to her chest. She seemed happy.

When someone has no interest the opposite sex, they surely don’t act like this, right?

I think that she might also be attracted to me, just as I am to her.

Haruka becomes more lovely every day, and my heart is burning with love for her.

Although she is incredibly lovely the way she is, as the graduation audition approaches, the chances of us being alone together, are drastically increasing.

The more time we spend together, the more unexpected sides of her I could see. The more I learned, the more I fell in love.

This vicious circle isn’t a bad place to be either.

Instead of forgetting my love, I’m just falling deeper and deeper.

She also understands the no love rule at the academy, so I’m not saying anything careless. Although that’s probably just a matter of time, isn’t it?

It wouldn’t be weird for either of us to blurt out that they love the other like this.

That’s how much we were attracted to each other.

My love or my dream…

I had to make that choice.

Let’s say that I end up choosing love.

We will be expelled in that case.

And that moment, I will lose my dream.

I don’t know any other life that that of an idol, so I’ll probably end up continuing playing HAYATO.

As long as I continue with HAYATO, I can’t officially go out with her either. I’m an idol, so I can’t have a girlfriend.

Even if I would choose love now, there’s no guarantee either that I’ll always be able to be with her. If I give up on love and choose my dream, however, there’s a high probability of both us becoming professionals.

I might even be able to sing her song.

And most importantly, it meant she wouldn’t lose her dream.

I can still turn back now. Let’s stop looking at her as someone of the opposite sex.

That’s right, isn’t it?

The final night…

After the dance party, I will throw this love away once and for all.

Otherwise, we cannot be together.

Let’s trick myself into thinking that I got turned down.

It should be fine if I just continued to act like my feelings had changed.

It wouldn’t matter this time if that’s self-suggested.

I have to eliminate the obstacles to my dream.

But if…

If she would tell me that she loved me, I might not be able to hold back anymore.

There… would be no option but to cancel our partnership and ask her to give up on this dream.

Throwing my love away when we’re constantly next to each other, knowing how we both feel, is impossible.

I don’t have that kind of strength yet.

So, I’m begging you, please don’t tell me that you love me…

At least I want to continue being partners with you.

[abbyofthecosmos]

How I study Spanish

I started learning Spanish in school 9 years ago, but I only did it for 3 years. I’ve tried to keep up with the practice since then, but life always seems to get in the way of really dedicating myself to it. Here are a few things I do to keep it ticking over. These tips are aimed for Spanish learning but most can be applied to any language!

The main thing to get down is vocab. Even with limited grammar knowledge, you can understand a a great deal if you have a lot of vocab under your belt. So if you’re like me and don’t have an awful lot of time to spend studying, make vocab your focus. The grammar will come too with time, but don’t hold yourself back by trying to understand every single conjugation or new tense that pops up.

Pretty much all language learning boils down to the more content you consume = the more you know. So make sure you’re keeping on getting that input as that’s the way you’re going to improve.

You can find loads of free short stories online just by googling, for example The Fable Cottage has a bunch of traditional stories, and you can choose whether to hide or show the English translations.

People advise differently when it comes to reading: some say read a whole chapter without looking things up, others say try and understand every single word before moving on. My preferred method is read the whole thing once through to see how much I can understand, maybe reread it a second time to try and understand even more, and on the third time through look up any vocab I’m missing.

Any new vocab I find I make flashcards for: Anki is great for this if you don’t use it already – and it’s free to download on desktop!

Your next great source of free content for keeping up that input is YouTube! Whether you’re watching vlogs in Spanish, 5 minute grammar/vocab lessons, or shows designed for beginners like Extra, there are so many different options. Have a search about and you’ll definitely find some channels that work for your way of learning. Some channels I like to watch are Spanish Playground, Why Not Spanish and Spanish Like a Pro.

The next tip that you’re bound to hear on any “How to Learn a Language” advice page/video is to talk to people in that language. Now if you’re extremely socially awkward like me, this is easier said than done. I can’t think of anything worse than talking to strangers in my terrible accent and getting all of my words muddled! So the ways I get around this are:

Join online groups on social media such as Tumblr and Discord. Talking over text is way less daunting than in person, and if there are native Spanish speakers in the group you can also pick up on the way people talk casually to each other (rather than the formal speech that is taught in textbooks), ask for tips on anything you are confused about, as well as pick up some internet speak!

Talk to yourself! This might feel a bit awkward at first, but just having a ramble to yourself when alone is a great way to practice speaking without actually having to talk to people. Narrate what you’re doing, talk to an imaginary person about your day, or as I sometimes do, have a one sided conversation with your pet!

Another easy thing you can do to increase your exposure to the language is to change the language of your phone. Chances are you’re familiar with where everything is located anyway, so it shouldn’t be too difficult to navigate even when it’s in a different language. You can always switch back if you get confused!

Linked to the tip about talking out loud, is when reading, say it out loud as well. While reading stories or sentences in your textbook, say the phrases out loud to get a feel for the pronunciation. This also gets you more used to speaking, and makes what you’re learning sink in better. I personally really like Duolingo (they also have a really good Spanish podcast if you haven’t checked it out!), and I find it helpful to repeat the sentences out loud when doing lessons. You can also try echoing people when watching videos – pause and repeat phrases you hear to try and echo the proper pronunciation as best as you can.

Finally, one tip that I really need to listen to myself, is write! Writing for 10 minutes about your day is a great way to pick up on any gaps in your vocabulary, and put everything you have learnt in to practice. It’s also really fun to go back to earlier entries and see how far you’ve come since then!

I hope these tips were helpful, and happy learning! 💫

[riverisnotsafe]

Mine.

PAIRING: F!Servant!Reader x Naoya Zenin

WARNINGS: NAOYA ZENIN. Naoya smut. NSFW, Minors DNI. | If you're into any of these: possessive Naoya, breeding kink (?), mentions of overstimulation, jealous Naoya.

A/N: You can call me Noct or River. I’m still fairly new to how tumblr works and how writers and bloggers (?) write their imagines/fics so I do apologize in advance if my writing is not to your liking. I will also post on AO3 under sunflowerpsycho. I'm still trying to improve^^ This was self-indulgent and not edited so pretty all over the place and might be unclear in some parts, sorry bout that.

The reader lowkey a pick me but depends on how you view her, either she's a pick me or she just acts the way she acts to accustom and stroke the lil bitches ego.

“A-ah! Naoya-sama!” you moan his name as he shoots his load deep in you. A few moments of bliss and you were ready to clean yourself. Naoya never liked staying in bed long after sex. He finds it disgusting. All the fluids of sweat, semen and love juices mixed together made his skin crawl. “Oi woman, where are you going?” You haven’t even gotten up but Naoya had you strongly wrapped in his embrace. His cock still deep within you, as if acting as a plug. “I’m gonna wash myself..? You don’t like being dirty like this...usually?” the last bit came out as a question when Naoya buried his head deep into the crevice of your neck. “Ah, I’ll let it pass today. Just stay here. My cum is gonna leak out if you move.” he tried to shove himself deeper, earning an unexpected moan from you. “L-leak out???” Does Naoya have a breeding kink? Is he trying to keep his cum in you???? “N-naoya-sama...are you trying to breed me?” at the mention of breed, you could feel his dick twitch in your core. “Shut up woman.” Ah...so he is and he’s embarrassed to admit. “I feel honoured if that’s what you’re trying to do...” another twitch.

Under that tough misogynistic act, this man is just a boy who thrives on praise, he probably was deprived of any in his childhood, hence the superiority complex. But with you, he’s quite honest. The body doesn’t lie. You were just another servant. He probably paid and slept with many so you never thought of it as anything special. Besides, after all of this dirty work, both of you end up going your separate ways. A servant and the young master. That’s all it is. That is until one of the maids tried stealing from the family, unfortunately from Naoya and he didn’t take it too lightly. A woman and a thief, absolutely the worst. Ever since that, he appointed you as his personal maid, to ensure that only one person will serve him. Only one will enter and exit his quarters. Only one will serve his meals. Only one will tend to him. Only one will follow him around the house. Only one will keep him company when needed. Why did he choose you? Honestly you had no idea. Out of all the servants, clearly you were the least appealing, especially for a man of Naoya’s caliber.

You could never rival the looks of any of the other girls. You were chubby. Your thighs a bit too thick. Your cheeks were puffy. You had no thigh gap. Curves? Well, they weren’t hour-glass curves so you were bedrock bottom ranked. And when it came to family, you were a nobody. All the other servants have been serving the Zenin clan for generations. You were just a nobody who was pulled into the servant life to pay off your parent’s debt. What luck. It took him time though, to make you tend to him sexually. He might have a big ego and any woman would sleep with him but deep down he knew it was only for money and his looks, which he prided on. The sex was always bland. He could care less about the women’s pleasures, he would ejaculate outside, toss them money and demand them to immediately leave. He found them disgusting. Weren’t you just the same?

He had a great face, an even better body and all the riches you could’ve dreamt of, so why has he not tossed you out yet. He for sure can suspect that you’re just the same as all those women, plus, you were even lower, a nobody. Yet, here he is, deep inside you. This has been..about the sixth time you and Naoya have had intercourse. The first three times was when you were just a normal servant. Coincidentally he always found you and forced you to pleasure him. The pay was good so you never complained. After becoming his personal maid, it took a few months to make you fulfil his sexual needs, which is rather strange. A man like knows nothing of consent. He’s a tyrant. What he wants, he can get and he will. So why did he take months to make you fuck him when it was so easy before becoming his personal servant. Who knows? Maybe it was his underlying insecurities asking him to be sure.

“Naoya-sama...may I turn to look at you?” he grunts. “I’ll be sure to avoid any leakage” he nods. You slowly turn your body, still impaled on him. It was a different kind of pleasure but you withheld your moans. Your face are so close. This moment is intimate, for you and him. Almost unreal. He’s gorgeous. That red tint of blush and sex afterglow just added more to his beauty. “Naoya-sama. May I speak more than usual?” “Only because you asked for permission. Proceed.” he avoided looking into your eyes. A shy one. “I appreciate my master’s kindness. Thank you for allowing me to speak. Naoya-sama...please be honest with me. Are you trying to impregnate me? Why? I’m just a lowly servant. I could never be perfect to bear your children, or be a concubine. I have no value. You are too kind. We should stop. I will remove myself now. Thank you for your time master.” You slowly push yourself off him. He grabs your arm harshly, definitely bruising it.

“You said no leakage. And how dare you speak to your master so insolently? How dare you question what holds value to me or not. You are a lowly servant. You’re a filthy no-name bitch. You live to lick my shoes and pick up money I throw on the ground. You are not going anywhere. You are staying on this bed with me in you. You have to be reminded who your master is.” Oooh, you definitely pissed him off. You winced at his words. They were normal, he always told you where your place is so it wasn’t a surprise. “You stupid woman. Now it’s out. You moved and now it’s out.” he sounds disappointed. He was whining like a child. “Naoya-sama!” he plunged into you hard. “Yes, scream my name you stupid bitch.” He went faster and faster. “Don’t cum inside...I’m not worthy master” “Shut your mouth. Worthy? No woman is worthy of me. Selfish. All they care about are themselves. Such an inferior gender thinking what they know is worthy? I decide. I decide your worth.” He changed positions. He pressed both your legs close to your chest. A mating press. He was so deep. The squelching of his previous load acting as lubricant was erotic.

“You. Your lewd body. You were always trying to seduce me. Those luscious thighs. These fat breasts. You were made for child-bearing. The look you make when I fuck you. So in awe, eyes rolling back. Ah. Ah. Sometimes you even forgot payment because you rushed to clean yourself. You were the only memorable one. The sounds you make. You’re erotic. No one else can see or hear you except me. Mine. Mine. Mine.” Naoya drilled you senseless. So desperate to hear you. Desperate to look at your expressions. Desperate to conquer you. “N-naoya-sama! Ah! Ah! Naoya-sama!” You had practically lost any sense and all you could feel was his dick fucking you mercilessly. The veins. The length. The girth. He fit like a glove. He had shaped you to be accustomed to him. “When that no-name clan came yesterday for a meeting. I saw your look. You enjoyed how they all looked at you didn’t you? You slut. You’d want them to fuck you like this right? Only I can though. You smiled and served them. Desperate bitch.” The meeting yesterday?

Your mind wandered. Oh yes, a small clan that are partners with the Zenin in business. The heirs were quite good-looking and well-mannered, how could a lady not feel flattered. You can’t remember if you specifically smiled or enjoyed their small talk. Was being polite not a simple necessity a servant should have towards guests? To ensure their master was not seen as tardy. You can’t remember their names or faces. All you remember was Naoya slipping his hand under your garments and fingering you. “You enjoyed people watching right? Especially since they were good-looking. I WAS RIGHT THERE WITH YOU. Disgusting piece of shit.” He got even rougher. You don’t know how many times you’ve orgasmed and how many times Naoya had ejaculated in you but he was still at it. He’s jealous huh.. how strange. A man that could have anything and anyone in the world was strangely possessive of a worthless woman like you. “You can’t show them those expressions. Mine. Your kindness mine. Your sounds. Mine. You’re my servant.” he sounds sad.

Despite being in subspace, you unintentionally reach out to your master and cub his face. “Naoya-sama. I love you.” Those unintentional words made the malicious man slow down his pace. “What did you say?” Is he angry? Oof, all the best dealing with another tantrum. You couldn’t feel anything. Legs sore. Your mind had wandered. The pleasure had made you dumb yet the little consciousness you have for your master remained. “I love you, Naoya.” His cock twitched. “Again” “I love you.” “Again” “I love you, Naoya-sama”. All that repeating made you come to your senses. “I don’t remember the men from yesterday. All I remember were your thick fingers in me. My expressions and mewls were for you. If this body is what you want then I will offer it all to you, my master. Ask, you are my master after all. All of me is yours.” You get up a bit, and stagger, he fucked the life outta ya. “Master, allow me to speak.” a small dumbfounded nod. You slip a hand onto his cheek and kiss him. Both of you never shared a kiss.

It was too intimate for a servant to kiss their master. Only their betrothed would be worthy but you couldn’t help it, you needed to assure this man-child, you were no one else’s. “Master, I-“ “Naoya. When we’re alone call me Naoya.” a small smile crept onto your lips. “Naoya, breed me.” His face was flushed. That’s exactly what he wanted. Through the night, he fucked you in every inch of the room. Both of your fluids and smell, absolutely drenched his quarters. He never once ejaculated outside. Every drip of his semen was in your womb, he wouldn’t even pull out, in fear it would leak. Shower? He fucked you while showering too. His animalistic senses stopped when a knock on the door came.

“Lay down with your back arched. It can’t leak.” He put on a robe and answered. A woman’s voice. “Naoya-sama. Naobito-sama is calling for you.” “Tch. Annoying old man” he slams the door shut. “Oi. Arch even more.” He came back to you. “I’m going to put this in you so you don’t spill.” He was holding, A DILDO? This man has a dildo? “N-naoya-sama, t-thats...” “Some servant I had my way with some time ago left it to fuck with me. I kept it not knowing what it was but now the shape looks like it’d plug you up good.” A servant he had his ways with huh. You were just another one right. He seemed to have noticed your train of thought. “Stupid woman. That servant is long gone. And now. You’re mine. No other stupid bitch except you. Stop thinking nonsense. Maybe I’ll remind you a bit more. That old man can wait.” He unrobed and pounced you. You definitely can’t walk for a few days.

“I’ll plug you up and we’ll go see the old man” he sounds, quite joyful. “If you move and leak, I won’t hesitate to fill you up again.” Ah. He’s definitely Naoya Zenin. “Naoya-sama” you smile. “What? You should be grateful that I’ve allowed you to speak so many times since last night.” You can’t help but giggle. A slight blush forms on Naoya’s face. “How dare you laugh at m-“ you pull him in for a kiss. He reluctantly kissed back. “Naoya-sama, I love you.” you smiled. He thrusted into you without warning. “The old man can definitely wait. You filled with my child is more important.” God knows how many times he’d come in your womb without pulling out, there’s no way you’re not pregnant. “Naoya-sama...let’s stop here...I can’t walk properly if we continue, then a different servant will have to serve you.” He was about to argue but held his tongue. “Fine.” He pulled out and slowly shoved the dildo in. Looks like he’d rather have wobbly-legged you than another servant. You can't help but smile. “Go shower and meet me back here. And clean the room after meeting with the old man. The smell...erotic but dreadful. Wash everything.” “Yes my master.” You hurriedly got clothed and rushed to the servant quarters to clean up. You were happy. What a weirdo.

[prismonautic]

reading comprehension is critical (in general but on witchblr specifically)

this blog is mainly for my own reference when it comes to studying books + other witchblr blogs on here .. bc bro. these long guides you be seeing on here? chapters in books.. the blogs?? they have complex concepts that you’re NOT going to understand in one read.

if you want to get the full experience of understanding what you’re reading on witchblr, close read it.

y’all can look at the picture below and get what i mean, but i’m going to repurpose this just for when i’m reading things on here. feel free to use it to help you!

this kinda a long one guys hope u don’t mind!!

before research.

know why you’re seeking this information. be intentional in your research. are you reading to grasp a complex concept? are you reading for inspiration for your own spells? are you reading to see what new thing you should try? what are you seeking? what do you want to know? what do you want to verify?

and whatever the reason is for your research, is tumblr the best place to do it? ESPECIALLY if you’re trying to understand something deep and complex? this is your reminder to get off of here and use external sources in your research btw.

knowing why you’re reading a piece of work will not only make research more efficient -- it allows you to be more aware of your motives for your craft. you’re not going to be wandering aimlessly and wasting time. purposefulness is power!

before reading.

okay, so... after figuring out why you’re reading something, you’ve chosen to stick with a certain piece.

for the sake of giving examples, let me put myself into a hypothetical situation.

let me say that i found a long informational guide about shielding on witchblr. as someone who is looking to improve their practice of shielding, i’m interested because i could take knowledge from this post + apply it to my own craft. i think that this is a good motive, so i want to read this! neat!

the general questions i ask before reading the work:

who wrote this text?

how experienced are they on this topic?

what type(s) of witchcraft do they practice?

what type(s) of spiritual paths do they follow?

where have they gotten their information from?

phase one - determining what the text says.

so, obvious step = reading your text.

after you read:

are you able to summarize what you’ve read?

what are the most important things you need to remember?

if you feel like you aren’t able to answer these questions, i’d say to read again until you can.

for example, let’s say that i read a blog about shielding + even though i’ve read it, i haven’t retained it enough to summarize n’ tell core concepts to a fellow witch. this is a situation where i’d read it again - i’ve read the work, but i haven’t understood it.

phase two - determining how the text says it.

note down specific terms and phrases repeated throughout the reading.

what do they mean in your practice?

what does it mean in the author’s practice?

are there any key differences between your meaning and the author’s meaning?

how do these differences affect the understanding of what you’re reading?

for example, someone may say to “visualize” in order to put up a shield. many people’s definition of visualization can be different -- hell, some people may not be even able to visualize. some think that visualization is only having pictures in their head.

this clash can affect how you comprehend the text, and you may end up not understanding it.

when you see someone saying “energy,” in relation to energy work, do you truly understand what it means? do you understand how it applies to your reality? how much you understand terms can make or break the quality of your learning.

if you find that you don’t understand something, encourage yourself to look deeper and find answers.

phase three - zoom out and consider.

make sure to pay close attention to the author’s perspective and purpose. based on what you’ve read..

what do you think the author thinks about the topic?

what do you think the author feels about the topic?

are they trying to persuade you, teach you, or convey an experience to you?

do you really understand who is telling you this information/story?

when reading information at face value (ESPECIALLY on here), it can be easy to not completely register that what you’re reading is made by a PERSON. a human. a being that has opinions, experiences, biases, and boundaries, just like you.

although it’s one-sided and timeless, this person is communicating their (past or current) views to you through their writing. be mindful of how old their work is too - it’s rare that someone holds the same exact beliefs and methods they had 4 years ago.

take EVERYTHING with a healthy grain of salt! a good dash of skepticism!

don’t be so prejudiced that you shut yourself out from new perspectives, but don’t be so impressionable that you take what some random person has written as gospel. read with attentive and critical eyes, remember to be intentional in what you do! keep this in mind and it’ll help you out there.

wrapping it up.

if you made it this far, thanks for reading!

after you’ve read, comprehended, and formed opinions -- create your own conclusion.

what are you going to do with this information?

has this information changed your perspective on anything?

has this information made you curious about anything?

are you inspired to add/remove something to your craft because of this information?

how would you rate the work? helpful? not that great for you? (if it’s not constructive, appreciated, and/or kind just keep it to yourself.)

would you share this information with a fellow witch who wanted to know more about this topic?

and anything else you feel wraps up your experience! i strongly suggest writing this and saving where you can look back on it.

happy researching!