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bearsinpotatosacks · 1 year

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Callie Bassett-Shen - Feather in the Wind

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Callie is exceedingly self-sufficient and doesn't realise that maybe accepting help isn't a bad thing.

Words: 2372

Goose awoke to the soft smell of cinnamon on the early spring day. He smiled, wondering what Carole had made for breakfast that smelt so damn good, only to turn over and find her sleeping soundly beside him.

Getting up and putting on his glasses, his bones creaking reminding him that was racing towards forty, he decided to figure out what was going on. No one else was awake. Rare silence floated around as he crept around.

Yet, when he entered the kitchen, there were clean dishes on the drying rack, dishes that weren't there the night before. He hummed and saw some ingredients for french toast left out on the side. Who had made that? And how had they done it quietly enough to not wake anyone?

Feeling slightly defeated, he went to return to bed, only to glance outside at the soft blue sky and see Callie Bassett-Shen pegging out laundry on their washing line. She was sharing a room with Natasha and the two were getting along well, especially considering how much Natasha was coming along since she arrived. Carole had told him about what had happened to her and he was horrified, he knew bad things happened to some kids in care but being faced with it was something else entirely.

Stepping out onto the porch, he called to her, "Morning."

She must have been in her own world, as upon his call, she jumped out of her skin. He walked onto the dew covered grass to help her with the last few items. A thin layer of moisture made his feet slippery, maybe he should've put some shoes on.

As he began placing socks on the line, her posture changed. Every now and then she'd give him a side eye, only to stop as soon as he met it with a smile.

"I can do this myself, you know," she eventually said.

"I know," he replied, then added. "We could've washed your clothes, you know, with everyone else's?"

She shrugged and placed the last t-shirt on the line. A slight breeze picked up, the clothes fluttered in it.

"I'm guessing you're the one who made the french toast?"

She nodded and went to get the washing basket and pegs. He beat her to it, giving her yet another smile even though he felt the bend in his spine. Just like the doctor said, his body was stiffening up more than a normal person's would with age. His accident still lingered in his body no matter how much work he put in to push past it.

"Yet again, we could've helped with that."

She opened the door for him, "I know, but I don't need help to do it, so why ask?"

"That's not the point of us helping,"

"Then what is?"

He paused, placing the basket down, then placing his hands on his hips.

"You'll figure it out." He said, then carried the basket to the utility and left her standing there puzzled in the light of the sun blinking through the blinds.

~~~~

The school run was always hectic but somehow today it was even more so. Bradley was rushing around getting his lunch together, despite Carole trying to get him to make it the night before. Natasha was already outside tapping her foot. Mickey ran around trying to find a toy, no figurine, he insisted on bringing to school to show Reuben.

And there, in the middle of it all, was Callie. She wasn't rushing everyone like Natasha or slowing everyone down like Bradley and Mickey. She was just sitting at the table giving everyone a slightly condescending look.

"Callie, right, where's your stuff, sweetie?" Carole said with her head in the fridge. "I can't see your sandwich in here, did you make it?"

"No, I made myself some noodles for my lunch,"

She kicked her backpack on the floor beside her. Carole peaked out from behind the fridge door.

"When did you do that?"

"This morning?"

Carole thought back to the morning. She’d woken up at six and it seemed like there was only her and Nick up. After her shower, and a lovely hour of free time before they woke up the kids, she hadn't heard anything from Callie. Unless she woke up even earlier, she had no idea when she would've had time to make her own lunch, let alone noodles.

"When?"

"When I got up?"

"And that was?" Carole tried not to look as slow as she felt.

"6:30, it didn’t take me long,"

Carole shut the fridge door as Mickey came racing down the stairs, finally ready. She hurried Callie along, still perplexed at how organised she was, as they headed out toward the minivan.

"Maybe next time I can help, if it doesn't take long," she said.

She just managed to get a glimpse of her confused look and mild shrug before rolling the door shut. They were now running late and had two schools to get to. If only she was as organised as Callie appeared to be.

~~~~

Goose finally had a moment to himself. All the kids were entertained. Carole was knitting in the living room, probably in less peace than he was right now, Bradley and Mickey were playing some video game and he knew they could get loud.

He was in the shed, which they'd converted into a makeshift pottery studio. After going to a class on a whim one day, he'd fallen in love with the craft. It was his new hobby despite him not being the best, Carole had called his stuff 'Wobblyware'. His body was getting stiffer and more painful as he aged, his injury from top gun still enacting its revenge, and he couldn’t run like he used to, so a new hobby was welcomed.

There was something about the slow movement, gently taking the time to craft something of his own. For a little while, he was granted his own space and took it gratefully.

Breaking this peace, Carole walked in in a flurry of anxiety. He stopped the wheel and looked up at her.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"Have you seen Callie recently?"

He shook his head, "No," he said, then, "Why?"

"I can't find her."

His calm broke. He assumed she was entertaining herself like the rest of the kids. Thinking back, he didn't remember her talking about going anywhere or meeting anyone.

"When did you last see her?" He asked.

"This morning, at breakfast, have you seen her since then?"

"No, I asked her if she wanted to come to the store and she said no."

Carole's face paled. She raked her hands through her hair as she began to hyperventilate. Goose hurried to her side to calm her down.

"Hey, she can't have gone far, we'll find her okay?"

He held her in a strong embrace. Worry knotted deep in his gut as he wondered where she could be. Perhaps she ran away, she would be their first. It was to be expected but didn't ease the stress slowly inching in around him.

He stroked Carole's hair as he tried to assure himself, "We'll find her."

~~~~

Natasha watched them return to the car with grave faces, and for good reason. Callie wasn't with them. Usually she didn't care if someone ran away, she didn't like to care about anyone, but she’d started to bond with her. They were both self-sufficient, both knew what it was like to be the only person they could rely on, both found Goose and Carole sweet nature a bit too much sometimes.

Upon getting back to the car, Carole crumpled into Goose's arms again. Natasha could tell he was trying to be the strong one but knew by the faint look on his face that he was struggling too.

"What if we don't find her?" She said, her words muffled through the window.

"We will, we've just got to check somewhere else."

"But we've checked everywhere we can think of! All over the house, up and down the street, at the school, at her old house, there's nowhere else!"

Her head fell onto Goose's shoulder, he rested his head on her's. He scrunched his eyes shut, his hands tense around her as they came to the realisation that they may have actually lost a child.

Yet, just when all hope seemed to be lost, Natasha had an idea. All week, Callie had been talking about Lunar New Year. The food she told her about made her stomach rumble. It was the only time she really mentioned her parents. It wasn't like she had a bad relationship with them, she denied it with vigour anytime someone insinuated that she did, but they’d been going away for work more and more over the recent years until Callie had to fend entirely for herself.

She yanked off her seatbelt and ran out of the car to Goose and Carole. They broke their embrace, Carole's eyes were red.

"I think I might know where Callie is."

~~~~

Chinatown may be a bit of an exaggeration. It was, more accurately, two streets of bakeries, restaurants, butchers, wholesalers, groceries and other stores filled with goods you couldn't find in most shops. People milled about with shopping bags, glancing in windows and talking in other languages.

Goose and Carole, along with the rest of their kids, cut through the crowds in increasing amounts of panic. Natasha had told them how much Callie spoke of Lunar New Year and all the foods her family would make. Maybe she'd gone there to get a few things?

"Callie!" Carole yelled down the street. "Callie!"

They couldn't see her amongst the people. Carole began to panic as she settled herself on the idea that she was gone for good.

Goose stopped her spiralling and held her by the shoulders. There was just as much panic in his eyes as she was feeling, yet he managed to block it out. He had been in the navy after all, they'd trained panic out of him at the Academy.

"How about I check that way with Brad and Mickey-" he gestured to his left. "And you go the other way with Nat, okay?"

She nodded and kissed him on the cheek before darting off into various shops. Luckily, she'd brought a photo with her to show to people. Yet, no matter how many times she asked if they'd seen her, no matter how many times she repeated her description or flashed the photo, no one had seen her.

They were running out of shops, down near where the street met the road, when all hope seemed lost. She'd never felt this defeated before. What if they were deemed unfit and the kids got taken off them? She wouldn't know if they would go to a good home, with loving carers, or another bad one.

Natasha may think she could cope but Carole couldn't live with herself if she fell back on that icy exterior she used to protect herself. And Mickey, sure he was growing up, but she wouldn't know if someone would be as patient with his ramblings like her and Goose were.

"Carole, look-" Natasha tugged on her arm and pointed to someone coming out of a butcher's across the street. "Is that her?"

It sure seemed like it. Black hair in two plaits hanging down on either side of her head. She was even wearing the same stripey purple top with denim dungarees like she was this morning. It was her.

"Callie?"

She looked up from a piece of paper and spotted them. Her eyes widened as she moved to see Goose running to her. Carole joined him and was soon bolting toward her.

"Callie, oh my goodness, what were you thinking, disappearing like that?" She exclaimed, pulling her into a hug.

She didn't want to let her go but knew she had to when Goose tapped on her shoulder. He took the bags from her, giving her a smile as she rubbed her arm.

"I'm sorry if you're mad, I-I won't do it again."

Goose lent down, "Callie, we're not mad, you just scared us that's all."

"But I just went shopping, for new year, I do it all the time."

He sighed, smiling again, "I know, and we're not denying that you're perfectly self-sufficient, but to us we saw a fourteen year old disappearing with no note of where she could be." She went to say something but he carried on. "And we don't want to lock you up like Rapunzel, but maybe tell us next time so we can pick you up and drop you off and know where you are, okay?"

She nodded and they headed back to the car. Goose took a gander in the bags.

"What did you buy anyway?"

"Ingredients."

"For?"

"Food."

They reached the minivan. Goose placed the bags in the back of the car and slid open the door for the kids. Callie still seemed ashamed. She sat on her hands and didn't make any conversation, even with Natasha when she tried.

As Carole drove them home, Goose made eye contact with Callie through the rear view mirror.

"When is Lunar New Year anyway?"

"Monday."

"Maybe we could help?"

She seemed to ponder that fact for a second before answering, "Maybe."

Goose settled, satisfied. They carried on driving.

~~~~

It had been another chaotic day. Early morning marinating. Cooking all afternoon. All for this. Callie had shown them the other traditions, money in red envelopes, lanterns decorated the house. They'd even got some fireworks for later.

"So, what've got here, exactly?" Bradley asked.

"Sweet and Sour Fish, Shrimp in Longjing Tea, Stewed Bamboo Shoots, Spiced Soy Duck, Steamed Buns, Dumplings and Spring Rolls." Callie said, pointing to each bowl in the middle of the table.

"It's a lot," Goose said, he was trying to hold his chopsticks and struggling greatly, Carole lent over to correct how he held them. "So we better get started!"

And as she watched them all tuck in, she finally understood what Nick meant when he caught her putting out the washing. Sure, she could have done this by herself, but she didn't have to. That's what this was all about.

I spent an ungodly amount of time researching food from the Hangzhou region of China. And yes, I specified the region Callie's family is from because it states her actress speaks the Hangzhou dialect of mandarin as well as general mandarin.

Also, Goose being a potter is a headcanon I hold close to my heart (I'm from an area in the UK called the potteries so it's my heritage I guess).

Also also, Goose having general stiffness and chronic pain after his accident in Top Gun just makes sense to me. It was a serious accident, he literally died, so in an AU where he lives I reckon he wouldn’t just be hunky dory after.

Thanks for reading!

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theloniousbach · 1 year

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ALMOST COUCH TOUR: CHRISTIAN McBRIDE and KENNY BARRON, TRINITY CHURCH WALL STREET, 7 MAY 2023

What an inspired pairing which came my way thanks to the YouTube algorithm that put it in front of me even though I don’t get on there all that often. But it sure did catch my eye. THE pianist with the bassist with the chops to play with everybody and so be the face of jazz as Wynton Marsalis moves into elder statesmanhood.

CHRISTIAN McBRIDE told of getting a call from the owner of Bradley’s calling him when he was new in town to offer him the chance to fill in for Rufus Reid who couldn’t make the first set with KENNY BARRON who, in turn, said he’d have to mortgage his house to pay to get McBride in his band.

All this to say that this was rare enough an occurrence to be savored by the musicians and us listeners.

They opened as Barron so often does with How Deep Is The Ocean as a nicely moderate standard to set the room, to get the feel of the piano, and to settle things comfortably on the band stand. The room was big but the sound wasn’t lost in the rafters; the piano seemed sufficient for Barron to utilize it for his graceful purpose; and McBride found a way to fill in nicely for both Kiyoshi Kitagawa (no slouch on the bass himself) and the remarkable Johnathan Blake with whom Barron usually plays. He was not only bass and a timekeeper who moved the rhythm around, but also a remarkable soloist (the bowing on Body and Soul was nimble and cello like). He runs up and down the fingerboard throwing in chords and double stops at a pace that would easily keep up with any horn player. He is fluid and insistent, different from but a reminder that my weekend also included the remarkable Linda May Han Oh.

Barron usually plays a Monk tune early in the set, but we had to wait to the closer for a briskly driving Rhythm-ning. Instead Billy Strayhorn’s glorious Ishfahan took that slot and given a lavish treatment with all of Barron’s taste and grace brought to bear with McBride was whole horn sections. The third tune hit another item on the Kenny Barron set list requirement—some Brazilian music, this no less than Antonio Carlos Jobim’s Triste to which McBride contributed his own wave. Sun Shower was the Barron original which went from moody to hopeful with a Latin feel to boot.

I find myself thinking about this as Kenny Barron’s gig, but Christian McBride was typically brilliant, doing all the basic bass things while justly claiming a full measure of solo space.

But Kenny Barron is a treasure.

#concert review #jazz #almost couch tour #2023

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rockofeye · 3 years

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It’s Kouzen Season: More about Kouzen Zaka and His Family

As I wrote recently, the month of May is a special time for Kouzen and his family. Kouzen’s fet/feast day is May 1 and May 2, but fetes for Kouzen are held all through the month of May in Haiti and the Dyaspora.

In English, ‘kouzen’ translates to cousin and is a title that we address Kouzen as. He comes with a lot of different names: Azaka Mede, Azaka/Zaka Si, Azaka/Zaka La, Zaka Krib, Zaka Toné, Kouzen Mòn, and many others. He also is very, very close with his wife Kouzin, and there are a whole variety of children in fanmi Kouzen as well.

Kouzen is most well known as the minister of agriculture and work, and this is reflected in how we address him sometimes as Minis/Minister. He is vital to life in Haiti, as it is him that makes the crops grow and ensures there is enough food for the lakou to survive, as well as oversees business and money. It’s often said that even Haitians who don’t serve the lwa always give for Kouzen, because he determines success or failure and can answer hunger.

In some ways, he is also the living memory of Haiti; he carries the weight and knowledge of subsistence farming and how to survive with very little. He is a master medsin fèy (literally ‘leaf medicine’, refers to a practioner of bush medicine), and is often called upon to treat illness especially for folks who can’t afford a Western doctor or even a medsin fèy in the community. He is the reminder of where many Haitians come from and what Haiti used to be: a more rural island where farming and agriculture ruled over most other businesses. It’s not a coincidence that his month of May is also Haitian Heritage Month.

He is often referred to as a lwa travay/work lwa for his indefatigable work ethic. Kouzen knows what it is to be hungry and to suffer, so he is working all the time to make sure he never has to suffer again and that his family and those that he loves don’t suffer either. His fetes are often utilized as means to determine how the next year will go; if Kouzen comes happy and enjoys himself and eats, it will probably be a good year with normal challenges. If he comes angry or upset and refuses his food and the special marketplaces made for him, that’s potentially a forewarning that there are difficulties ahead and a lot of work goes into appeasing Kouzen to change the flow of luck.

Kouzen is also intimately involved in things like immigration. He can help (or harm!) an immigration process, and can be a huge ally in getting those papers moving.

He is always very concerned about being taken advantage of. He comes as a poor peasant, and so folks often underestimate him or try to rip him off when he loans money or offers a good deal. He is incredibly sensitive to this and is paranoid that someone will steal from him. It’s not unusual for him to arrive at his fet and unpack his makout to make sure everything that was there last time he came is still there. He’ll count crumbs. Anything missing will need to be accounted for.

A well-known story from communities I am close to tells of a time when someone did a maryaj lwa in a temple and had brought things from their own table at home to place on the table built for the ceremony. When packing up at the end of the night, someone mistakenly packed the bottle of Kouzen’s liquor that belonged to the temple in the makout of the Kouzen the person married. It went unnoticed until that temple’s fet Kouzen rolled around.

Kouzen arrived and found that his bottle was not in his bag. He asked for it and when it could not be found, sat down on the floor and cried. He refused to let anything else happen until his bottle was located. Some fast thinking and a lot of luck had the person who did the maryaj at the fet and they had a eureka moment and drove home quickly. She lived locally (thank everything) and soon returned to the fet with the bottle. Kouzen had to be consoled and many promises and assurances made because even though the bottle had been returned and it was a genuine error and not a theft, he was so upset that his things had been taken.

He is an expert deal maker that negotiates for his best interests. Something common at most fet Kouzens is that a marketplace will be set up for him. It’s usually a large layout of fruits, vegetables, and maybe some special items for him to look over and offer up for sale. He is very, very shrewd and downright stingy. I’ve seen him refuse to select what he is willing to sell until someone presents him with money, and then he will pick what he thinks is a fair exchange. One evening, I watched someone give him a $20 bill, and he looked for a moment, selected a banan/plantain, and snapped it in half. He gave one half to the person who had paid him $20.

He’ll often walk around holding his chapo/hat and asking for money. Most folks will come prepared with a little cash in their pocket, but pity the person who brings their wallet. Someone had the misfortune of coming to Kouzen’s fet with a significant amount of their rent money in their wallet. Kouzen asked him for money, and when he took out his wallet and opened it, Kouzen reached in and took all the cash. He refused to give it back, and so that person made a nice gift (willing or otherwise) of several hundred dollars.

It’s often said that Kouzen is the one who works and it’s his wife Kouzin who manages the money. Kouzen may want to account for every dollar, but it is Kouzin who keeps track of where it all goes.

Folks always make him out to be greedy, full stop, and he certainly can be, but as Kouzen has known suffering he can also be very generous. I’ve watched him give money to people who were in great need and clearly say that he only needs to be remembered each week and that they don’t need to pay him back. I’ve seen him loan money to people in dire circumstances (but that money better be paid back on the terms he negotiated).

One of the most poignant moments I’ve seen with Kouzen came at his fet when someone who had sacrificed a lot to be there came to talk with him and brought him a little money. They had been struggling with finding work for a little while, and so it was a really hard trip as they did not live locally. Kouzen refused their money and told them to keep it, because he knew they needed it. Some folks thought that was extremely negative coming from Kouzen, but it was a gift. He followed up by giving them a specific lamp recipe to find work, and less than a month later that person had a job.

With all of these very important things on his shoulders and in his makout, you’d think Kouzen would come as something other than a peasant...but he doesn’t. I think that’s really important because it reinforces how close Kouzen and all the lwa are to us; even the ones who are literal royalty.

For me, in addition to all of the above, I also experience Kouzen as a source of a lot of creativity and creative drive. My relationship has developed in such a way that he oversees a lot of my art and art practice. He doesn’t care so much what kind of art or if it even turns out good, but more that I do it and keep my hands moving because that’s good for me. He has definitely been the push to put some paint on paper or beads on fabric when I really don’t want to or don’t have any internal motivation. I will feel him eyeing me and I’ll drag myself to my studio space and do something. Or, if I’m really too busy to make art or there’s some other barrier to me actually sitting down, he’ll push me to resolve it so I have space to get my hands dirty.

In terms of what someone could do for Kouzen without getting into trouble or having him be upset is to do charity in his name. If you can, donate money to a cause that supports providing for folks who are hungry, that supports agriculture that supports self sufficiency in developing countries, or even that aids folks who are homeless or unhoused. If you can donate your time and labor, even better! Kouzen values labor and hard work, and there are plenty of places that need help these days: packing food at food pantries, distributing and delivering meals, volunteering to serve meals in homeless shelters, even volunteering to help vaccine efforts would be looked on favorably by him, as it assures further survival.

I caution folks against preparing food for Kouzen without guidance; even looking at his food in the wrong way or thinking it’s delicious can make him upset and jealous, and he’ll refuse it or spoil it. There’s specific ways to even taste his food for seasoning to make sure it will taste good...don’t risk it!

I hope this is helpful; please let me know if there are questions.

#vodou #haitian vodou #real vodou #fet kouzen #kouzen zaka #azaka mede

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adarlingwrites · 4 years

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Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who's willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

September 5, 2277.

That night was the night I learned her name.

Business was slow, with only a few customers dragging their feet in. Patchwork stumbles in and tries to get yet another drink. Ahzrukhal wasn’t amused in the slightest, not at all. Patchwork’s tab already exceeded what he deemed acceptable. So, he turned to me.

“Charon?”

“Yes.”

“Teach our friend Patchwork here a lesson.”

“As you command.”

The poor bastard tried to backpedal away when I advanced on him and grabbed him by the collar. I dragged him out the door, and without warning, threw him over the balcony. The ghouls beneath steered clear, knowing better than to intervene. As I went down the stairs to torment him further, he tried screaming for help, but nobody came. This is our normal.

As I walked over to break his fingers, a shout rang from Tulip’s shop. The voice isn’t a ghoul’s.

“Whoa, what the hell?!”

It’s Vaultie, holding a baseball bat and running towards us. The kid had stuck a few bits of armor over that stupid bright blue jumpsuit and a rusty assault rifle lie holstered on her back. She still hasn't discarded the bright red cap, though, and her dark hair was tied in a loose bun. Still a combat hazard.

“Smoothskin,” Tulip rasps, running after her. “Don’t. It’s better you stay out of it.”

She whirls to the ghoulette. “Why would I? You’re telling me you guys just let people get beaten up in the open around here?”

“Keep your voice down, Percy,” Tulip warns, placing a rotting hand on Vaultie’s forearm, and Vaultie didn’t flinch when the ghoulette touched her.

So, her name is Percy. Sounds right for a rough little tomboy like her, but I have no reason to say that out loud. I stayed silent.

“Charon doesn’t act on his own accord. He’s under Ahzrukhal’s orders.”

The kid brushes Tulip off, but the action is without malice or disgust. I was in the middle of pulling Patchwork’s middle finger off when she barged over. “Hey. What did he do to deserve that?”

“Not your business,” I grunted, dropping the finger to the ground. “Talk to Ahzrukhal.”

“Hhhrkn- I asked for ‘nother drink but I forgot I didn’t pay my tab,” Patchwork gurgles, limply hanging as my free hand held his arm up.

“All that for a bar tab?” Percy remarks, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the bat harder. “How much does he owe?”

“Ask Ahzrukhal.”

That bleeding heart of hers will get her killed one day, but I felt some relief as she ran up the stairs and into the Ninth Circle. I stopped beating up the sorry drunk and hauled him back up to the bar. Inside, Percy had her palms pressed against the bartop. Ahzrukhal has a smug look plastered on his face as he counts caps.

“Well ma’am, it’s certainly enough to cover Patchwork’s tab here, yes.”

Vaultie turns her back from the bastard and looks at Patchwork, then to me. “You heard him. I’ll take him to Doc Barrows.”

“Oh, and Charon?” Ahzrukhal rasped with that grin that I wanted to punch off of his damn face.

“Yes?”

“Give Patchwork a parting jab.”

"Very well."

I can’t disobey. My fist connected with the drunk’s face and the only satisfaction I can get out of it is from imagining it was Ahzrukhal’s. Percy, quick on her feet, caught him before his body could hit the floor, setting him on one of the chairs.

“You’re quite an ass, Mister Ahzrukhal, you know that?” The glare she was giving him made my fingers itch for my shotgun out of reflex. Ahzrukhal is my contract holder, so if Vaultie here rips his throat out with her teeth like the provoked animal that she looked like at the moment, I’d be forced to shoot her down.

“Miss, let me make some things clear here,” Ahzrukhal starts, holding a shiny cap against the light. “This is my bar, and I will do as I please to keep my establishment free from riffraff. Patchwork here is one of them, and I will utilize Charon if necessary to remind him that I do not tolerate such things. Perhaps this will serve as a lesson the next time he tries to drink without pay.”

The vaultie only scoffed in response and hauled the bleeding ghoul to his feet and supported him with one shoulder. How she could not gag after breathing in the combined smell of rot, blood, and alcohol from Patchwork is beyond me.

“Utilize? You make him sound like a… like a machine,” she mutters in disbelief. She doesn’t even flinch when Patchwork bleeds on her relatively clean jumpsuit; her eyes were trained on my employer.

“We are not having this conversation about Charon again, Miss.”

“Whatever. You’ll have your day of reckoning.”

Those words sounded like fucking music to my ears. Yes, he will, I thought to myself. Vaultie has guts, I’ll give her that.

It almost makes me want to like her.

As she left, I returned to my usual corner. “Feisty girl,” Ahzrukhal pipes up as he neatly lines up his caps in the cash register. “You know, Charon, that girl has been rooting around for information on how to obtain your contract.”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t feel the need to.

September 14, 2277.

Within the span of two weeks, Percy is becoming a regular sight in Underworld. I heard the patrons talking about how she would come to trade with Tulip with the items she scavenged from the Wasteland. How she can find all those supplies is a mystery. Maybe she’s just born lucky. At night, she spends an hour in the Ninth Circle despite her dislike for Ahzrukhal, smiles and waves at me as she leaves, but I don’t acknowledge her, and the little frown she makes when I ignore her tells me about her dismay.

Tonight, she walks in the Ninth Circle with new gear and a bag of caps. She finally got rid of that ridiculous blue jumpsuit and the red cap, switching to a dark, form-fitting armor. I can’t put my finger on it, but my brain itches further the more I look at her. Then I see it, the red star behind her nape against the black.

It stirs something in my decrepit mind.

Gunfire, smoke, powder. Snow. A foreign language I can’t understand-

A bark from Ahzrukhal snapped me out of my thoughts.

“Charon. Get your thumb of out your ass. I said, accompany Miss 101 out of Underworld.”

Percy is bristling at him, glasses sliding to the tip of her nose. “You said a thousand caps, you rat bastard.”

“I’m sorry ma’am, Charon’s contract is far more valuable to me than a thousand caps. Unless, you want to reconsider the offer I gave you previously?” the fucker rasped, mockery dripping from his voice.

“Screw you,” Percy spits at him, gathering her caps. She walks away, shoulders tense as I follow her out of the bar.

“No need to throw me over the balcony, big guy. I’m going,” she snaps at me. Big guy. That was the first time she used that nickname.

With her back turned on me, I follow the curve of her spine down to her legs with my eyes and regret doing so. The previous itch I had in my brain when I see her armor-clad body is replaced with something more primal. Fuck, how old is this kid? If there was any doubt on whether I was going to burn in hell, it’s gone.

Then, the conditioning kicks in, and I tear my eyes away from her. No time for thinking. No time for imagining. Follow your orders.

Flailing and cursing when I carried her over my shoulder, she uselessly beat my back with her fists as I started carrying her out of the city. The onlookers knew better than to get involved, as usual. Ironic, how she intervened on behalf the well-being of one of Underworld’s citizens, yet they didn’t grant her the same courtesy. Later, I’d learn that this is just the beginning of her tendency to get into one-sided dealings, where everyone else just takes from her.

“Hey! Get your hands off me, my legs still fucking work,” she growls, trying to break free from my grip.

“Can’t you hear me?” she asks again as we are halfway through the concourse. “Oh, right. Ahzrukhal doesn’t like you talking to us strangers. Figures.” She stopped beating my back and just pressed her elbow against my shoulder and propped her face up with her hand. From an outsider’s point of view, we probably looked amusing.

Willow, the city sentry, lets out a tut when I tossed Percy out the door like a ragdoll, and she landed on her ass.

“Pissed Ahzrukhal off, tourist?”

“Yep. I’ll be back,” Percy hisses, rubbing the sore spot on her body. Again, I regret looking. I should’ve just slammed the door right there. “I just need another thousand freakin’ caps.”

“Good luck with that,” Willow chuckles, and resumes her patrol.

With Vaultie gone, the usual peace and quiet came back, save for the crackle of the radio on Ahzrukhal’s bartop. The usual music ends, and a news broadcast comes in.

“Men and ladies, boys and girls, prepare to be astounded, bedazzled, and otherwise stupefied! I am Three Dog, your master of ceremonies! Seems we've got - dadadadada - a bit of news, Just listen to this!”

Just great. What settlement got fucked over by raiders now?

“Remember that kid from Vault 101? Apparently, she ran into some trouble with what little law they had in Megaton. The gal beat the proprietor of the local saloon, Colin Moriarty, to death, with a baseball bat. Whaaat?! But wasn’t this the same gal who deep-sixed the live atomic bomb in the center of town out of the kindness of her heart? Why did she murder one of the town’s residents? Well, here’s the catch! When town sheriff Lucas Simms came to apprehend her, the bar employees came to Miss 101’s defense and claimed she was protecting one of them from the owner’s brutal beating. Hey, you stepped in when you thought it was necessary, 101. Some folks would rather turn their heads away at the sight of injustice, but you didn’t. No judgment here. And now, for some music.”

Huh.

For the next few hours, images of her danced behind my eyes. I imagined Percy executing Ahzrukhal with a baseball bat, just like she did to that other bar owner in the news. Me putting a boot print on his face and Percy smashing his shelf of Centaur piss while the worm whined. Unloading shotgun shells into Ahzrukhal’s ugly mug as Percy poured alcohol all over the countertop and setting it on fire. All of it involves ending Ahzrukhal in a variety of satisfying ways with the vaultie at my side. It’s a dangerous pastime. I should not feel any attachment to anyone but my employer. The contract holder has my absolute loyalty, but she’s not that person.

I really want to like her.

September 16, 2277.

When she returned two days later with a thousand more caps, I decided that I do.

Percy, brimming with enthusiasm, walked over to my corner, and before I could dismiss her, she held out my contract, my paper soul, right in front of my eyes. Then, she speaks.

“Slow down, big guy,” she chuckled, smiling. That damn smile again. “I have good news. I’m your new employer.”

It was good fucking news indeed.

“You purchased my contract from Ahzrukhal? So, I am no longer in his service. That is good to know,” I tell her, barely containing the relief in my voice.

“Please, wait here. I must take care of something.” A knowing smile spreads across my new employer’s lips as I whip out my shotgun.

“Ahzrukhal, I was told that I was no longer in your service,” I rasp, a pleasant sensation blooming in my chest.

“That’s right, Charon. Have you come to say goodbye?”

There it is again, the fucking mocking tone in his voice. Knowing how much he pissed Percy off, he’s probably planning something, the fucking cheat. My new employer would probably turn up dead and face first in the dirt as soon as I stopped watching her. I can’t let that happen.

“Yes.”

Two blows to the head. I unloaded two shells on that asshole, one to kill him, and one out of spite. It felt fantastic. My hands were still shaking when I returned my shotgun to its holster.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Percy saunters over, eyes wide, and takes in all the carnage before her. She whistled and pats my arm almost too affectionately.

“Wow. Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

#lone wanderer #female lone wanderer #charon #fallout charon #charon fallout #oc: percy zhou #fanfic: absolution #series: through river acheron #fallout 3 #fallout 3 fanfic #fallout #fallout fanfic #writers on tumblr

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holy-kingdom-of-faerghus · 4 years

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Ingrid’s Second Chance

Prompt: Ingrid betrays her country and her friends. She falls in love and dies for it. She fought for the better of Fodlan so why did she feel so much regret?

The Black Eagle Strike Force marched ahead merrily, Byleth and Edelgard in the lead as they prepared for the incoming battle with Faerghus and the Church of Seiros. Victory from their last few battles filled them all with confidence, the end of the war on the tips of their tongues.

Ingrid schooled her expression as the royal blue of Faerghus’s banners became visible in the distance. She knew who waited on the other side of the enemy lines, her close friends now enemies; Dimitri, Sylvain, Mercedes, Dedue. All of them had shared food and spent days laughing alongside each other. But not today she supposed as she clutched Luin in her hand.

A sleek gray ribbon was wrapped around the lance’s shaft-- Felix’s hair tie. It had been she who slew her friend in Arianrhod, His harsh words echoing in her mind, he had called her a traitor, turning her back on her people, her friends, her word, and most of all Glenn. He couldn’t understand that she was doing what she thought was right. She was sure that Glenn would see from her perspective had he been alive. But then again she supposed that even if he had agreed with her views he would never help her-- help Edelgard.

Her gloved fingers reached up to rub the ribbon gently, it reminded her of her past. Of days in the training yard in Fraldarius, Glenn helping her tie her blonde tresses back before they began yet another grueling training session. Tears pricked at her eyes as more memories flooded her head.

She was in Galatea now, sitting on her comfortable bed, a letter from Felix in hand. He had written her promising that he wouldn’t be a knight. Telling her that all they were good for was dying for the sake of something so silly as chivalry. She remembers the white hot anger coursing through her veins as she read.

Suddenly Edelgard’s demanding tone filled the air distracting her from her thoughts.

“Right, there’s no time to be sentimental now Ingrid. You’re on a battle field.”

Edelgard was warning her army that the battle would begin as soon as they neared the first squadron of Kingdom soldiers. This gave Ingrid enough time to clip any stray strands out of her face, steel her nerves, and reassure her steed.

“Glenn would’ve loved you.” She thought solemnly as she patted the snow white pegasus below her. “Damn it.” She cursed, once again ridding her head of her somber thoughts. “Get your head in the game Galatea.” Her heart stopped as the name slipped off her tongue, her mind imagining the hungry yet hopeful people of her fathers territory. The smiles on their faces when she told them that one day she would bring them enough food for a feast. She remembered tussling in the dry dirt of her farmlands, easy laughter escaping her lips.

“Ingrid.” The pained expressions her servants wore when they watched her eat her filling dinner.

“Ingrid.” The neighing of the knights pegasi as they traversed the Galatean skies.

“Damn it Ingrid snap out of it!” A hand was waving in front of her face, bringing her back to reality. Caspar’s wyvern was hovering beside her, its rider leaning over so that he was very close to her. “There we go! Finally back with us yeah?” He smiled his ever present cheery grin. “We’ll be heading in a few minutes, make sure you’re here with us by then okay?” He then waved at her before soaring over to Byleth’s side, yelling some sort of joke as he went. The blonde sighed before gently nudging her steed forward, easily falling into formation.

“Ingrid, you’re with me.” Byleth commanded from the ground, his voice clear and to the point, though there was a tinge of concern mixed in. He pulled something from his pocket and held it up to her.

“Right, oh what’s this professor?” She lowered to the ground and reached over to take the item in his hand. “A-A ring?” It was a light silver band, it had many ruins engraved into it, but they were too small to decipher. A flush coated her cheeks, not believing it to be real.

“It’s an evasion ring, I know how hard this battle will be for you so I’m hoping this will help you evade anything that comes your way.” Though his tone remained neutral, the look in his eyes was something akin to sincerity... or was that something else? “I’ll do my best to keep you safe but even I can’t promise that I can do the same for your heart.” She smiled at his well meaning words and allowed him to slip the ring over her leather clad finger.

“Thank you professor, in turn I will watch your back. Please don’t worry about me, I knew what taking this route would entail.” Byleth gave her a look that said he didn’t believe her but refused to push. Edelgard’s war cry was then heard and they ran into battle.

Her armor was tattered, cuts marring her pale skin, rain drops sliding off her face and lips, the stench of blood and metal in the air. Despite the discomfort she felt, she charged onwards, never yielding. Not even when she pierced through soldiers that she trained with as a child, not when she tore her javelin from Mercedes’s sopping corpse. However the loud voice that called her name caused her hands to become clammy. She halted for a moment, paying no mind to Byleth’s worried glances. Her forest green orbs searched the bloody terrain until her gaze fell on the one who yelled her name with so much heartache.

It was Sylvain, riding into battle a top his beloved steed Berg (short for Bergamot, but he refused to let anyone besides his close friends know its full name). His wild red hair was matted to the sides of his face, rain drops cascading down his armor. His honey like eyes were filled with betrayal as he neared her. Gautier’s Lance of Ruin in his hand, glowing eerily in the cold light.

“Stand down Ingrid, I know you don’t want to die here.” He pleaded with her, his eyes swirling with desperation, heart ache, and love. The look had her grip on Luin loosening, though she clenched her hands, reminded herself that every action had consequences and that this was one of hers. Her own heart breaking within her chest she forced a hateful glare on her face and said the very words that caused Sylvain’s mask to crumble.

“I will not. I will never ally myself with the likes of you.”

His upper lip curled up in disgust (for a second she swore she saw Felix’s face instead) as he looked at her for the first time and truly saw her for the person she had become. A bitter smile formed as he raised his lance and prepared to strike.

“Stubborn as always. I always did like that about you.” He lunged forwards, relic extending to pierce through her. But she was too quick for him and forced her pegasus to barrel roll out of the way. Breathlessly she huffed out her last words to him before utilizing her own relics full power.

“And you never cease to amaze me with your false flattery. Don’t waste your breath.” Pushing as much of her spirit and strength into her strike as she could she then zoomed forward and pierced her friends heart in one fell swoop; her crest fading away as she realized what she had just done. “Oh Sylvain... it shouldn’t have come to this.”

Sylvain fell from his steed, crumpling to the grassy field beneath him. Blood leaked from his fatal wound, a sharp cry escaping bloodied lips. His eyes were glazed as he glanced up at the sky above, his mouth muttering soundless words. Ingrid felt tears well up in her eyes at the sight, silently streaming down her face. As he exhaled his last breath she made out a few of his words.

Felix, a promise, His Majesty, an apology, then nothing.

She hopped off her pegasus and knelt beside his corpse, gently shutting his glazed over eyes with two fingers. Not for the first time since she chose this path she felt her heart twinge with regret and she wondered again if she had chosen right.

“Ingrid are you all right?”

Byleth slid to a stop beside her, the Sword of the Creator in hand. One glance at Sylvain’s body and he immediately knew. He moved to obscure her view of the corpse and placed his glowing palms on both sides of her face.

“Stay still and I’ll heal you.” A few seconds later the pain across her body dulled immensely. “Do you think you’re still in fighting condition? You may retreat if not.” She blinked at his words, letting out a shaky sigh before flashing him a determined look.

“I can still fight... I just needed a moment to collect myself.” She promised, turning her head away from her teacher. “I-I came this far already. I need to see this battle through.” A sympathetic look flashed in the mans eyes before he nodded.

“Well then, come with me and we’ll finish this war with Faerghus. King Dimitri and the royal guard are the last obstacle before Rhea.” Ingrid nodded stoically, shaking the blood off her weapon and mounted her pegasus, following Byleth as she always had. For a split second she wondered where she would have been now if she hadn’t followed him into the Black Eagle house. Alas, she thought, it was too late for such thoughts, too much Faerghusi blood soaked her hands.

She ushered her mount forward, adrenaline rushing through her veins. The man she had sworn to serve was just a little ways away from her, screaming at a newly killed Dedue as he collapsed to his knees, Dorothea’s Levin sword protruding from his chest. She couldn’t tell from this distance but she was sure that it was not just rain that soaked his face.

How cruel, she thought, knowing all your friends died to protect you at the hand of a traitor. Her gut wrenched in horror as she realized how numerous her crimes were.

Byleth was already forging ahead, swinging his whip like sword at the King. Dimitri dodged most of his slashes, but ended up getting a large slice in his cape.

He twirled Areadbhar in his hands and expertly lunged at Byleth, his crest flaring up brightly behind him. Luckily, the professor saw it coming and rolled aside, the lance barely missing him. Their duel continued on for what seemed like forever (Ingrid was busy dealing with the royal guard so she wasn’t fighting against him yet), however, this also meant that fatigue was kicking in. For the first time during their duel (that she knew of) Byleth miscalculated his foes next attack and was about to be pierced by the legendary lance. Fearing that the strike would connect, Ingrid literally leapt from her pegasus, deftly threw Luin, then tackled Byleth to the side (knocking him unconscious along the way). Dimitri turned just enough that Luin only punctured his thigh, causing a guttural growl to escape him. This caused her to curl up and roll so that she could avoid further injuries. His gaze turned from Byleth to her, his sea blue eyes widening before narrowing again.

“Not only have you become the emperor's lap dog, but you have turned against your own people. How could you Ingrid, I thought you wished to be a knight? What would Glenn have said?” He heaved, yanking Luin from his thigh as if it were a tiny needle. It clattered to the ground beside him, it’s otherworldly glow slowly fading away.

She gulped, picking herself up from the ground. The only other weapon she had was her javelin and a silver lance, her chances of beating him were next to none. Recklessly, she decided that she had to have faith in her allies and stall until they arrived to assist her.

“Your ma-- no Dimitri.” She said thickly, sweat beading down her neck. “Edelgard has a reason for all of this, her war is to rid of the secret evil of Fodlan. G-Glenn would have understood why I did it. I know he would.”

“So I see, you’ve become so desperate to believe you are seeing justice through that you’ve begun lying to yourself. Perhaps you and I are not so different my old friend.” He murmured lowly, an odd look in his wise eyes. Areadbhar’s crest stone gleamed evilly at his words. “Alas, no amount of lies can save you from the truth. You, Ingrid Brandl Galatea, are a traitor to the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. As your king... it is my duty to execute you for high treason.”

The two battled each other for a long while, long enough that Ingrid soon began to lose hope about reinforcements. She was not suited for fighting on foot, both she and her opponent knew this, so fatigue soon found her. Suddenly a harsh blow from Dimitri’s lance split her own silver one in two. Obscenities escaped her lips as she struggled to avoid his onslaught. However, the wet concrete beneath her caused her to stumble, which led her to slide... straight into Dimitri’s next attack.

Burning hot pain flooded her entire nervous system as Areadbhar was shoved into her heart. Her gaze began to waver and soon she fell to the ground, her king standing over her. A small, breathless, laugh escaped her lips as memories flooded her mind.

Snow days in Fraldarius with Felix and Glenn, sparring in Fhirdiad Castle with Dimitri and the Kingdom knights, late night talks with a younger Sylvain, hidden smiles from her father, Glenn’s lessons, shared laughs with the Blue Lions, warm tea with Byleth, oaths sworn to her new Adrestian comrades, Edelgard’s private advice before a hard battle.

All these things filled her mind as she laid on the hard tile. She briefly wondered if this is what Ashe, Felix, Mercedes, Sylvain, and Dedue had felt like when they died. Did it hurt just as much for them? What did they see before they breathed their last? She supposed that she would never know. Or maybe she would see them again. Wherever it was people went after death. Was there an afterlife that Sothis reigned over? Ingrid wondered if the goddess would accept her soul there. Perhaps not, she thought, for she had joined the side that wished to kill her children after all.

Her minds eye had never been clearer, she mused, a new thought surfacing. Perhaps all this heartache and suffering she had experienced and caused could have been avoided if she had chosen the Kingdom. Damn her naive teenage heart; Byleth was a wonderful man, one she had been so set on following to the ends of the earth, but not even he was worth all of this. So that being said...

“Y-you always b-beat me in t-training...If only... I stayed...” Ingrid confessed as the life left her, words only heard over the sounds of battle by a few others. Dimitri met her eyes and smiled sadly, a soft good bye leaving his lips. Byleth blinked groggily from his place on the side lines, noiseless tears escaping as he watched the one he so loved perish before him.

Her words didn’t fall upon deaf ears however, Sothis’s power humming beneath his skin. He had used all of his divine pulses but he would give all his remaining energy if it meant he could grant her wish.

Dimitri saw his movement from the corner of his eye, Byleth dropping his sword in surrender. With a tired sigh, he nodded towards the blonde’s body, one last mercy before he killed his professor.

“Thank you.” Byleth hummed softly, sitting beside Ingrid’s corpse and pulling it onto his lap. He pressed a kiss to her gloved knuckles, reaching into his pocket and retrieving his mothers ring. He slid it onto her finger and rocked her close, apologies escaping him as he channeled all his remaining power into a final divine pulse. Behind him Dimitri poised his relic and prepared to strike.

“I love you Ingrid. Sothis please grant our dying wishes, let her go back and have another chance.”

A sharp movement, a lance through the heart, a splatter of blood, Edelgard’s heartbroken screams in the distance, Dimitri’s soft cries, a mournful lovers dying plead to the Gods, thuds of falling bodies, a clatter of a lance, and a flash of green light.

Ingrid opened her eyes, a slight pain in her gut and a relieved feeling in her heart. Today was the day that the Blue Lions would be assigned their new professor! She sighed happily, the feeling of life flowing through her veins more welcome than before. She had a good dream but couldn’t remember what it was. The only thing she remembered hearing was “stay and second chance.” But it was probably nothing important... What was important was today’s breakfast! Stomach rumbling with hunger, she left her room to join her new house mates for breakfast.

#fire emblem ingrid #fire emblem byleth #fire emblem reincarnation #ingrid brandl galatea #fire emblem three houses ingrid #ingrid/byleth #ingrid x byleth #Blue Lions #blue lion house #blue lion writing #blue lion angst

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haelroyale · 4 years

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How to Deal With Stress Positively

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How to Deal With Stress Positively

How to deal with stress positively

First off, before we get into how to deal with stress positively, I want to just debunk the misconception that anxiety is an unavoidable aspect of living. I do not think that. I decide not to believe that because even though stress is widespread, everyone here has probably experienced stress in life.

Life can be stressful at times. I believe that if you meditate, you will have the ability to achieve a little state of zen in which you are so so present you’re never stressed.

I think that it is likely to exist much more worry-free and longer stress-free. Don’t believe that stress is unavoidable because it is avoidable.

Today I’m going to share some tips on how to deal with stress positively. My first tip on how to deal with stress positively is to:

1) Take a shower or a bath.

There is a definite feeling about cleansing yourself, which also cleanses yourself emotionally. It washes your energy by removing those impurities away. It relaxes you.

Also, make sure to hydrate and drink lots of water, then a bath or shower, and you will feel so much better.

2) Be present.

You notice that, once you’re stressed, you’re usually feeling stressed or apprehensive about the future since it’s unsure.

You are unsure whether you are gonna pass this test, or you’re uncertain whether something is definitely going to be a certainty, and that may drive us mad if we allow it to.

But when you’re in the now, you’re focused on whatever’s in front of you. And in case you haven’t noticed: You can always handle the present moment.

So whatever obstacle is happening in your own life, if it’s the situation you are in at the moment, you are going to deal with it.

But usually, we are worried because we are attempting to deal with the problem which has not happened yet. It’s later on. That’s what’s causing the stress.

Know your power is here in the present moment. It is possible to think of the time you had a test in school coming up, and you were anxious about it.

You were really stressed out preparing or studying, or perhaps procrastinating made you stressed out. But when you’re really there taking the exam, you are not stressing out.

You are focused, you’re flowing. You are like, Okay, allow me to figure out this. Let me do this…” You’re solving the issue facing you.

Stress is a trick your brain plays on you before anything is actually happening. Stress is your anticipation, not the activity. Concentrate on the job in an instant, and you’ll be okay.

3) Brain dump.

Write it all down. When you journal all of your thoughts out, worries, and anxieties, you notice what is causing your stress, and you see how silly some of your concerns or fears maybe.

This may help you feel more clear then, so you’re not in your head all the time. You’ll be able to organize your thoughts a bit when you view it down on paper.

You might give yourself advice in your journal session. Usually, I only help myself when I am journaling it out. I’m worried about this, or I am concerned about that.

But also: this, this, and this. It’s okay because of this, this, and this. That means that you can use journaling as a tool to alleviate your anxiety, to inform yourself that it is going to be okay.

You might also utilize this session to assist you in planning out those future actions to help you escape this situation. You can use it as productive time, plan for your next baby steps, and see what beliefs or thoughts are holding you back.

Really use it to get clear. The fourth step on how to deal with stress positively is:

4) Talk to someone and get help.

Sometimes you want an outsider’s view to have the ability to understand your situation clearly. Speaking to a trusted friend or therapist can help you set you at ease and alleviate your tension and anxiety and feel in peace.

A fantastic resource to get connected with a licensed therapist online is BetterHelp.

BetterHelp is for cheap, personal counseling. Their website and the app offer access to accredited, trained, and certified counselors and therapists so that they can get assistance anytime, anywhere.

How it works is they pair you with a counselor who is right for you. You’ll be able to find a description of your therapist, their specialties, years of expertise, and reviews from other clients too.

If you don’t vibe with the one that you got, you may always change the therapist you have. In my situation, I was matched by BetterHelp the same day, and we scheduled a live video conversation.

So that was my very first experience with speaking to a therapist. And at the very first session, it was refreshing to have the ability to talk about anxieties and my issues frankly.

I cried a lot in the first session, which I ultimately did not anticipate. But it’s just been really healing and another experience to try.

In case you’re interested, definitely, check out BetterHelp because it’s so accessible and straightforward to utilize.

5) Detach yourself from the outcome and trust the process.

Understand in life you’ll find things that you can control and items that you can’t control. And it is useless, and it is a waste of time to focus and worry about matters that are outside of your control.

Therefore concentrate which you can get a handle on. Do your best and discharge your control of the outcome. Consider having this fresh perspective.

When you don’t care what happens, you are living more carefree, you have zero expectations. Whatever happens, happens.

The idea is that life will simply take you in these directions. You’ll have challenges, and sometimes, however, everything placed before you in life, everything is given for you, is there to allow you to grow, to help you learn, to gain strength.

So expect that whatever is in front of you is whatever you need to grow. A comfortable life isn’t real, there isn’t any simple life, there isn’t any ideal life.

Bad things are gonna happen. Challenges are gonna happen. So as long as you have the mindset: I am just going to perform my best and not care about the outcome. I’m here to learn, you’ll be okay.

6) Meditate

Meditation should be done every day as it’s one of the foundation habits, one of being more stress-free, carefree, joyful in the life of the main hints.

It has so many benefits. If you were able to meditate 5 minutes daily, you would feel the benefits of a sound mind and a centered soul.

Meditation is learning to realign with your soul and softening the noise around you, and remembering that your soul within, it’s always still, it’s always secure.

Your soul is invincible. So meditation is a reminder to come back to that and realize that everything around is just temporary.

It’s not going to stay like that forever. Anyway, if it’s difficult for you to meditate, you can definitely try guided meditations like Calm or Headspace. Or you could try spa music.

I really like Spotify spa music in the background sometimes, just because it’s so relaxing. There’s also a quote that I heard once that really stuck with me, something like: “Fifteen minutes of meditation a day is essential. If you are busy, then an hour is necessary.”

I actually think that’s a quote that keeps coming up in my meditation app Zenfriend. But anyway, it’s super accurate that you should meditate every day, but if you are busier or if you are more stressed, then you should meditate longer.

I know it’s counter – when you’re busy, you’re like, “I don’t have time for meditation.” But when you are working is when you need it most.

7) Take care of yourself.

Take care of your body, your health, your well-being. Don’t forget that self-care always comes first, because you have to be okay to function in everyday life.

So make sure you’re eating healthy, drinking a lot of water, getting enough sleep. It really is the basics. And I know that when we’re busy or stressed, we tend to sacrifice things like that.

We tend to cut sleep, we tend to eat unhealthy because it’s more convenient. But when you’re busy, that’s actually the time that you need those things more.

The busier you are, the more you own it to yourself to take care of yourself. Lastly, I want to leave you guys with a quote that I really like.

It’s by Dale Carnegie: “Inaction breeds doubt and fear. Action breeds confidence and courage. If you want to conquer fear, do not sit home and think about it. Go out and get busy.”

That just means that, when you’re feeling stressed, anxious, worried, which are all versions of fear, it means that it’s all happening in your head.

And the best thing that you can do to get out of that state is to simply take action. To my point of being present, focus on what you can do right now in the present moment and do your best.

That’s the best that you can do. And when you start to take action, you will feel like – the fear dissolves because you’re so focused on what you’re doing.

So when you just sit home, and you’re just thinking, of course, you’re gonna feel stressed and scared. But when you’re taking action, you feel more confident, and you have more courage and bravery to keep going and to just get things done.

So I send you guys all of that positive energy, all of that just-do-it energy. And I hope that whatever stress you’re going through right now, that you just take a step back from your life, appreciate it for what it is, be grateful for everything that you have, and just relax.

We all need to just appreciate the beauty. After you do that, focus on what’s in front of you and get to work. I hope these tips on how to deal with stress positively have helped you in some way. Thank you for stopping by and have a blessed day!

Check out our article on how to get something off your mind

#how to deal with stress positively

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soothsayercharacternotes · 4 years