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elexuscal · 1 month

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So just over a year ago, I made a resolution to myself to get better at Fitness, since I was getting older and i knew if i didn't, the Consequences would begin to manifest. One problem? Historically i have always hated working out.

i knew there were two main reasons why: 1. lingering trauma from the usual Fat/Neurodivergent Kid Mistreated In PE Class Experience 2. oh my god it's so so so boring i would rather do anything more entertaining.

So. I'm not an expert, and i'm definitely not a professional fitness instructor, BUT i have genuinely come to not just tolerate but actually enjoy exercise this past year. So if these are any problems you personally have contended with, these strategies May Help.

One: Remove Barriers

a lot of flavours of neurodivergence struggle with switching between tasks and executive function generally, especially towards something you don't find fun. So first you gotta identify any barriers keeping you from exercising, and removing or mitigating them.

For me, a hurdle i recognised is that if I could not easily access the equipment, I was unlikely to use it. honestly if i couldn't see it i would probably forget it was there. So my first order of business was making a Work Out Zone. I unrolled my yoga mat and gave it a near-permanent place in my room. my weights came out of the closet and placed on a low shelf where i could easily access them, as did my resistance band. now they were always Right there.

I also realised something I detested was the general feeling of sweaty clothes, and in particular, having to change out of them. So Gross. so i started scheduling my work outs for in the the morning after breakfast or right before my nightly showers, aka: when I am changing in and out of my PJs. I'll do my routine (mostly) naked and not have to contend with the extra steps and laundry that sweaty clothes bring.

two: secondary entertainment

like i said: i found exercise very boring. and while i've gotten better over the past year, and can find it meditative, i still prefer having something else to catch my attention.

i used to like to put on video essays. but then i realised i was so often pausing my work outs because the particular video ended, or the pace got slow, or the topic turned to something dark and depressing out of nowhere and killed the vibe, so then i had to stop to find something else--

No. You need something that will keep you in the zone, and won't knock you out of it. I didn't used to listen to music much, but this year i took advantage of a Spotify subscription my sister gifted me (😔) and started just putting on upbeat rock, hip-hop, and pop mixes. it doesn't need to be my favouirte music ever it just needs to Keep Going.

i do find the loud, rhythmic music is really good for keeping my pace up, but if music doesn't do it for you, you might find audiobooks or autoplaying favourite old tv shows/sitcoms might scratch that itch.

Three: Find Other Motivators

Or, "if you can't make your own motivation, store bought is fine"

Gameification is really good here. You might be someone who'll benefit from a pedometer or step-counter app. I have a friend who swears by the Switch Ring-Fit, and I've also heard of folks who use games like Just Dance, Zombies, Run! and Beat Saber to rely on the sweet sweet endorphins generated by hitting a high score.

(BUT: do beware the dark side of gameification, which is the risk of demotivation if you don't hit your goals. For example, after doing GREAT on exceeding my step goal for a month, I got hit with COVID. For about a week and a half I was barely moving beyond the kitchen and back. My step counts plummeted, there was no way to edit the record out, and that made it harder to get back into the groove. Be mindful relying too much on gameification!)

Even outside of literal games, there are ways to scratch this itch. I used secondary objectives as a way to encourage me to keep up with my daily walks. Walking my roommate's dog when he was working long days is an obvious one, but we don't always have a furry friend at our disposal. Then I would rely on mini-challenges like, "pick up 10 cool rocks to paint", "fill this bag with wood for the fireplace", "take 10 pretty pictures", or "get to the corner store to get more milk".

And of course, consider team sports! Many folks I've talked to feel having set training/play times with a team that relies on them crucial to keep them on track!

Four: Don't Measure Success By Weight Loss

I know. I know. Easier said than done. It does not help that like 80% of workout resources online are going to mention this. but above all else, you must resist the beast. (and while not as dicey, measuring success by visible muscle gain can fall into a similar trap).

The biggest benefits to exercise are invisible. it improves cardiovascular health, brain function, tissue regeneration, immune system function, lung capacity, energy levels, literally our whole body. no matter what external changes your body does or doesn't go through, you're still going to be benefitting from exercise, and you do not want to get demotivated chasing unrealistic/irrelevant goals.

Instead, to track your progress, focus on questions like these:

How is exercise impacting my mood? Do I feel less stressed or anxious?

Am I sleeping better?

Is my balance improving?

Is my stamina increasing?

Am I becoming more flexible?

Can I lift/carry heavier weights?

Is my breath control improving?

Over the last year, I've seen marked improvements in all of these. My joints don't hurt as much; it's easier for me to to get up and move; I don't get winded as easily; I generally feel more relaxed and cheerful. Those are all amazing outcomes, and I hope that everyone on their own fitness journey can find the same joy there as I have.

#fitness #exercise #fatphobia #there are definitely other tips i could give #but these i think are the ones that helped *me* the most

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shimmerinbeautiful · 2 years

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#I hate this feeling but I feel almost lost without a new album to look forward to #it’s so stupid because midnights is one of my favorite pieces of music ever created #but I was so excited for it for weeks and it was huge and now I don’t have anything to look forward to #don’t get me wrong midnights far exceeded those high expectations #but I feel a bad depression coming on now that we have it and there’s nothing big in my life to look forward to #like I didn’t think about what happens next #igufdgsg I hate feeling this way #it’s the exact same type of depression as when you finish the run of a show you’re in #like it was amazing and you loved everything second and it’ll be with you forever #but what now #personal #tw depression

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astraystayyh · 4 months

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chan x reader. hurt and lots of comfort. description of an anxiety attack and its aftermath (based on my own experiences).

please consider donating for gaza through my kofi. we have exceeded 1k dollars and our goal is 1500! a little goes a long way, you can donate as much as you can! thank you

If you remain still long enough, breathe as quietly as you can muster, would the world forget you exist and pass your anxiety along to somebody else?

A selfish question, perhaps, but one that you can’t help but ask as you sit on your freezing bathroom floor, knees tightly hugged to your chest.

You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve sat in this position. Time suddenly seemed elusive to you, as if a concept too hard for your frantic heart to grasp. All you knew was the ache of your limbs and the feeling that doom was just around the corner.

It was one of those days where you woke up feeling anxious. As if your brain had made up its mind about you in your sleep, deciding to hold you hostage to your anxiety. The bed was cold, your boyfriend Chan long gone to his studio, his lingering cologne the only indication he was ever there. So, you tried to distract yourself throughout the day— going on a walk, listening to music, cleaning your house, but it didn't help. Nothing seemed to help you.

So here you were, hours later, sat on your bathroom floor, trying to calm yourself down, all alone. But you could tell that it wasn't working, that you were on a losing race against your own body. Soon, you wouldn't be able to control your anxiety, soon it would turn into a full blown attack.

You wanted to call Chan, you truly did, but he was busy, and you refused to be a burden. Especially since he told you through texts that he'd be home late, so that definitely meant that he was making a new track in his studio.

So, you settled on rocking yourself back and forth, your hands slowly moving up to your shoulders, patting yourself down. This is what you used to do before knowing Chan. When you didn't have anyone around you who understood. You’d trick your bruised mind into believing you were hugged, the warmth of your own touch easing your anxiety a little.

But tonight it had the opposite effect. Tonight, you broke down in sobs, your breathing more irregular than ever. You curled into a ball on the floor, your hand moving to your chest in a futile attempt to slow down your heart. You could no longer breathe, the air in your lungs morphing into unkind fingers, choking you from within. White dots started dancing in front of your eyes, as your entire being shook like a lone leaf, left to fend for itself before the unyielding winds.

It suddenly got too much— the sobs, the pain, the ache. You couldn't bare it anymore. So with trembling hands, you unlocked your phone, calling the only person who would be able to calm you down. Chan. You put the phone on speaker, before tossing it on the ground next to you. You couldn't even muster the energy to hold it to your ear.

“Hi my love, I'm a bit busy right now can I call you later?” Chan's rushed words ring through the bathroom, your anxiety intensifying before the possible antidote. “Honey?” he asks again when he doesn’t hear your reply.

“Chan—“ you sob, the only word your weighted tongue allows you to speak of.

“I’m here, I'm here baby. I'm coming right now,” his panicked voice rings through your ears, following the frantic rush of your boiling blood. The sound of shuffling indicates that he’s getting up and leaving the studio, the confused ‘what’s going on?’ Han shouts confirms it.

The only reply you give him is your sobs, and his heart constricts, twists and turns at the sound of your cries. “Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s okay, you’re okay. Breathe for me, okay? Take a deep breath with me, please—” his voice breaks, “please baby.”

You try, with all your will, to force a steady breath to rise from your stomach to the tip of your tongue. It escapes faintly, but Chan catches it. “You’re doing well, baby. Fuck—” he turns on his car’s engine. “Um… Minho bit my ass today.”

His words catch you off guard, the gears in your mind stopping for a split second. You remember a faint conversation under your covers, months ago, when you told him that distractions help you when you’re anxious. Force you to redirect your thinking somewhere else.

He remembered.

“Was it tasty?” you breathe out, and he chuckles, a sweet sound intermingled with a sigh of relief. “I don’t know, I need to ask him baby.”

You nod though he can’t see you, willing yourself to breathe again. In, out, in, out, Chan’s own breathing guiding you. “Should I bite him in return?” he asks. Tears pool in your eyes once again. “I’m close, so close,” he reassures.

“Okay.”

“To the biting?”

“Mm,” you manage to hum, as you hear the door of your apartment open, Chan's hurried steps echoing in your home. You knew he was looking for you but you couldn't call out to him. After painfully long seconds, stretching out as if to torture you even more, he finally opens the bathroom floor.

He finally finds you.

“It's okay, I'm here. I'm here,” he wastes no time before scooping you into his arms and hugging you. He knows that the pressure eases your anxiety so he tightens his hold without you having to say so, pulling you as close as two pages of the same book.

With you on his lap, he starts rocking back and forth, his words coming out a jumble mess. He can’t settle on what to say to you, switching between stupid jokes his friends told him, and words of reassurance he repeats like a promise.

His words break, his tongue faltering each time your sob gets louder, but he speaks. He speaks and speaks for twenty minutes, all to distract you, all to keep you grounded, and safe.

After a long while, the storm finally passes, leaving behind an excruciating exhaustion. You turn into a puddle in his hold, softening like malleable clay. He holds you as gently as a porcelain vase.

His warm palms settle atop your cheeks, his eyes gazing into yours for the first time since he got here. A sheen glaze taints them, one you know is mirrored in your own. His thumbs gently swipe away your remaining tears, grazing your face with a tenderness that makes your being ache. Your lips press a faint kiss onto his palm, his find their way to your forehead, and you feel it all, through his kiss. His fear, his relief, his love, soft and gentle, for you.

“Thank you,” you whisper, voice slightly hoarse as you kiss his forehead back.

“I’ve got you my love. Always,” he smiles at you softly, his dimples appearing like the sun after a cold day.

“Did Minho really bite you?” you giggle faintly, and he scratches his ear sheepishly. “No, but I don’t put it past him to do it.”

“Is that something you’re into?” You cock a teasing eyebrow at him, and he shakes his head, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek. “Only if it’s you,” he says as he wraps his arm around your waist, picking you up swiftly.

“I’ll consider,” you yawn, wrapping your arms around his neck, your face finding a refuge in the crook of his neck.

“Why thank you,” he smiles as he leads you to your bedroom, settling you gently atop the bed. He quickly climbs in with you, bringing you so close to him, his warmth ends up spreading through your entire being, filling up every nook and cranny of your soul.

“I think as long as you’re near, I’ll always be okay,” you say, as your eyes close slowly, you miss the tender smile that blooms in his face at your words.

“Good thing I exist to be near you, then.”

please consider donating for gaza through my kofi. we have exceeded 1k dollars and our goal is 1500! a little goes a long way, you can donate as much as you can! thank you

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burst-of-iridescent · 7 months

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South Asian and Hindu Influences in ATLA (Part 2)

disclaimer: i was raised culturally and religiously hindu, and though i've tried to do my research for this post and pair it with my own cultural knowledge, i'm not an expert on hinduism by any means. should i mess up, please let me know.

please also be aware that many of the concepts discussed in this post overlap heavily with religions such as buddhism and jainism, which might have different interpretations and representations. as i'm not from those religions or cultures, i don't want to speak on them, but if anyone with that knowledge wishes to add on, please feel free.

Part 1

In the previous post, I discussed some of the things ATLA got right in its depictions of desi and hindu cultures. unfortunately, they also got plenty of things wrong - often in ways that leaned towards racist caricatures - so let's break them down, starting with...

Guru Pathik

both the word "guru" and name "pathik" come from sanskrit. pathik means "traveler" or "he who knows the way" while guru is a term for a guide or mentor, similar to a teacher.

gurus were responsible for the very first education systems in ancient india, setting up institutions called gurukuls. students, referred to as disciples, would often spend years living with and learning from their gurus in these gurukuls, studying vedic and buddhist texts, philosophy, music and even martial arts.

however, their learning was not limited merely to academic study, as gurus were also responsible for guiding the spiritual evolution of their disciples. it was common for disciples to meditate, practice yoga, fast for days or weeks, and complete mundane household chores every day in order to instill them with self-discipline and help them achieve enlightenment and spiritual awareness. the relationship between a guru and his disciple was considered a sacred, holy bond, far exceeding that of a mere teacher and student.

aang's training with guru pathik mirrors some of these elements. similar to real gurus, pathik takes on the role of aang's spiritual mentor. he guides aang in unblocking his chakras and mastering the avatar state through meditation, fasting, and self-reflection - all of which are practices that would have likely been encouraged in disciples by their gurus.

pathik's design also takes inspiration from sadhus, holy men who renounced their worldly ties to follow a path of spiritual discipline. the guru's simple, nondescript clothing and hair are reflective of the ascetic lifestyle sadhus are expected to lead, giving up material belongings and desires in order to achieve spiritual enlightenment and, ultimately, liberation from the reincarnation cycle.

unfortunately, this is where the respectful references end because everything else about guru pathik was insensitive at best and stereotypical at worst.

it is extremely distasteful that the guru speaks with an overexaggerated indian accent, even though the iranian-indian actor who plays him has a naturally british accent. why not just hire an actual indian voice actor if the intention was to make pathik sound authentic? besides, i doubt authenticity was the sole intention, given that the purposeful distortion of indian accents was a common racist trope played for comedy in early 2000s children's media (see: phineas and ferb, diary of a wimpy kid, jessie... the list goes on).

furthermore, while pathik is presented a wise and respected figure within this episode, his next (and last) appearance in the show is entirely the opposite.

in the episode nightmares and daydreams, pathik appears in aang's nightmare with six hands, holding what appears to be a veena (a classical indian music instrument). this references the iconography of the hindu deity Saraswati, the goddess of wisdom and knowledge. the embodiment of divine enlightenment, learning, insight and truth, Saraswati is a member of the Tridevi (the female version of the Trimurti), one of the most respected and revered goddesses in the Hindu pantheon... and her likeness is used for a cheap laugh on a character who's already treated as a caricature.

that's bad enough on its own, but when you consider that guru pathik is the only explicitly south asian coded character in the entire show, it's downright insulting. for a show that took so many of its foundational concepts from south asia and hinduism and yet provided almost no desi representation in return, this is just rubbing salt in the wound.

Chakras

"chakra", meaning "circle" or "wheel of life" in sanskrit, refers to sources of energy found in the human body. chakra points are aligned along the spine, with energy flowing from the lowest to the highest point. the energy pooled at the lowest chakra is called kundalini, and the aim is to release this energy to the highest chakra in order to achieve spiritual enlightenment and consciousness.

the number of chakras varies in different religions, with buddhism referencing five chakras while hinduism has seven. atla draws from the latter influence, so let's take a look at the seven chakras:

Muladhara (the Root Chakra). located at the base of the spine, this chakra deals with our basest instincts and is linked to the element of earth.

Swadhisthana (the Sacral Chakra). located just below the navel, this chakra deals with emotional intensity and pleasure and is linked to the element of water.

Manipura (the Solar Plexus Chakra). located in the stomach, this chakra deals with willpower and self-acceptance and is linked to the element of fire.

Anahata (the Heart Chakra). located in the heart, this chakra deals with love, compassion and forgiveness and is linked to the element of air. in the show, this chakra is blocked by aang's grief over the loss of the air nomads, which is a nice elemental allusion.

Vishudda (the Throat Chakra). located at the base of the throat, this chakra deals with communication and honesty and is linked to the fifth classical element of space. the show calls this the Sound Chakra, though i'm unsure where they got that from.

Ajna (the Third Eye Chakra). located in the centre of the forehead, this chakra deals with spirituality and insight and is also linked to the element of space. the show calls it the Light Chakra, which is fairly close.

Sahasrara (the Crown Chakra). located at the very top of the head, this chakra deals with pure cosmic consciousness and is also linked to the element of space. it makes perfect sense that this would be the final chakra aang has to unblock in order to connect with the avatar spirit, since the crown chakra is meant to be the point of communion with one's deepest, truest self.

the show follows these associations and descriptions almost verbatim, and does a good job linking the individual chakras to their associated struggles in aang's arc.

Cosmic Energy

the idea of chakras is associated with the concept of shakti, which refers to the life-giving energy that flows throughout the universe and within every individual.

the idea of shakti is a fundamentally unifying one, stating that all living beings are connected to one another and the universe through the cosmic energy that flows through us all. this philosophy is referenced both in the swamp episode and in guru pathik telling aang that the greatest illusion in the world is that of separation - after all, how can there be any real separation when every life is sustained by the same force?

this is also why aang needing to let go of katara did not, as he mistakenly assumed, mean he had to stop loving her. rather, the point of shedding earthly attachment is to allow one to become more attuned to shakti, both within oneself and others. ironically, in letting go of katara and allowing himself to commune with the divine energy of the universe instead, aang would have been more connected to her - not less.

The Avatar State

according to hinduism, there are five classical elements known as pancha bhuta that form the foundations of all creation: air, water, earth, fire, and space/atmosphere.

obviously, atla borrows this concept in making a world entirely based on the four classical elements. but looking at how the avatar spirit is portrayed as a giant version of aang suspended in mid-air, far above the earth, it's possible that this could reference the fifth liminal element of space as well.

admittedly this might be a bit of a reach, but personally i find it a neat piece of worldbuilding that could further explain the power of the avatar. compared to anyone else who might be able to master only one element, mastering all five means having control of every building block of the world. this would allow the avatar to be far more attuned to the spiritual energy within the universe - and themselves - as a result, setting in motion the endless cycle of death and rebirth that would connect their soul even across lifetimes.

#atla #atla cultural influences #hinduism in atla #welp i thought this would be the last part but i ended up having more to talk about than i thought #so i'll save the book 3 inspirations for the next post #including my absolute favourite combustion man #and by favourite i mean kill it with fire why did you ever think this was okay to do writers

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ssahotchnerr · 1 year

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Hii!! Can you do hotch x reader where hotch is all grumpy and reader is the complete opposite but he is all soft and cute towards the reader

perspectives

wc; 1.2k cw; bau!reader, angst, hurt to comfort, no established relationship but <3

aaron had never been a fan of car rides.

long car rides, to be exact. heading to the bau was never an issue, same with running around town, errands, taking jack to soccer. but a journey more than an hour? nearly unacceptable.

the luxury of traveling via the jet throughout the years definitely didn't help. and while numerous rides exceeded well over that hour time frame, at least that didn't compare to a car ride's length to the destination. that ideology was more manageable, easier to accept. and besides, he wasn't the one who was flying the plane.

so whenever it was necessary to make the trek to the state prison for interviews, about two hours away from quantico, it was displeasing. it was irritating. but it had to be done and complaining wasn't in his vocabulary.

the changing point, however, was you.

the first time you accompanied him, you had newly been added to the unit- still wide-eyed with innocence, not subjected to the horrors just yet, nervous yet excited jitters making you squirm in your seat.

he envied you in that aspect- being able to see the world in a lighter view. so maybe when you asked if you could turn on the radio, he didn't hesitate to comply.

and upon your second ride together, he flicked the radio on as soon as the engine started.

perhaps that gave you the confidence you were waiting for - finding an open, more inviting atmosphere to speak your mind.

"you know, you frown more in the car."

your words surprised him, "what?"

"it's true." you were relaxed in your seat, looking out the window and admiring the scenery passing by. "sometimes i wonder if you can even see past the windshield with how much your eyebrows are drawn over your eyes."

his lips fell into a line, but amusement bubbled within his chest. "i can see perfectly fine."

you laughed, and in that moment, aaron realized just how badly he needed that to grace his ears. "i would hope so. we haven't crashed yet."

aaron chuckled softly, his eyes returning to the road ahead.

"so, car rides huh?" not only was your wit quick, but so was your ability to read him like a book.

he huffed out a breath through his nose. "hate 'em."

"haven't you heard, it's not about the destination, but the journey?"

"our journey leads us to a high security establishment containing the worst of the worst." aaron deadpanned.

"sure." you shrugged, turning back towards the window. "but maybe it's all about perspective."

and maybe you were right.

as time moved forward, you became his frequent passenger. when the opportunity arose to take a drive, anywhere in that matter, you were always the first to volunteer.

it became routine- aaron tuning the radio to your favorite station upon the engine's ignition. his once silent rides were now accompanied by music, small talk followed and ultimately turned into full blown conversations. work related or not.

and suddenly aaron preferred the car to the jet, enjoying your presence and lightness you suddenly indulged him in. you were rather talented in elaborating, your intuition seemingly limitless. the conversations you fabricated were both amusing and constructive, and the two of you could partake in such for hours. you were easy to talk to, kind and open, not the one to be judgmental. and throughout, you looked at him in a way that made him feel so vulnerable it was frightening, but extremely safe. he could open up about the depths of his mind and you would still look at him the same way. in addition, he couldn't remember the last time he actually had the urge to open up. willingly.

sure, he could sit with you on the jet (and notably, he did) and get the same exchange, but he preferred the peace and stillness of just the two of you. you, him, and the open road.

and maybe more importantly, you made him feel like himself again.

while it was bound to happen, aaron dreaded when the job would take it's toll on you.

aaron often admired your level-headedness, your ability to remain objective and to not dwell on the darkness as many agents do; the all consuming abyss. your bubbly personality coincided with seeing the good in all things, despite all circumstances.

no wonder you got along so well with garcia.

you maintained your sense of strength, for so long, aaron feared how hard it would hit you; the realization darkness would never cease it's attempts to triumph light. and that same darkness would attempt to overcome you, no matter how much light you offered.

manageable. if he couldn't protect you from the inevitable (although, he would if he could - in less than a heartbeat), he could at least make it manageable.

slowly and surely, your inner sparkle was dimming. and he wouldn't dare allow your light to diminish.

an interview at the virginia reformatory arose, and something about this unsub had riled you up to the extreme- aaron's never seen so much fiery behind your eyes. but despite your hatred, you had insisted on going- your vigor all too similar to one he knew well.

"his guy," you seethed, buckling your seatbelt rather forcefully. "is sick. what he's done-"

"i know."

"they didn't deserve it hotch." aaron nearly flinched at the use of his name, he's gotten used to hearing aaron from you. "why do we have to drive all this way, to get stupid answers from a stupid, vile ass clown who doesn't want to speak to us to begin with? we're going to get nothing out of it. nothing."

"i see you've been hanging around dave too much." aaron commented, hoping to lighten the mood.

but your attitude didn't falter, not like it would've previously. "why do we have to go? driving all the way out there is pointless."

aaron shrugged, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. "i don't mind the drive."

you snorted a laugh, your comment flying out of your mouth. "since when?"

"since someone," aaron's eyes found yours. "changed my perspective."

"yeah, well," you slouched in your seat, mumbling under your breath. "what do i know."

"a lot more than you give yourself credit for." his answer was simple, true.

"c'mon."

"i'm serious. yeah, this sucks. it's going to be an unpleasant afternoon. but..." he paused for emphasis, bringing a sense of playfulness. "the journey."

another scoff came from you. "and what could possibly come from that."

"you never know." before aaron could overthink himself out of it, his hand reached over the center console, finding yours naturally- as if it were it's rightful place to be. where it belonged.

your hand was just as soft as he expected, somehow more, even. he gave it a squeeze, and it immediately brought a bit of light back into you. your shoulders dropped, warmth returned to your face, looking at him in a sense of awe, almost.

unknowingly to each other, both of you felt it. where aaron's touch met yours, every part of him was aflame.

"the journey." he repeated. "that's the whole point, isn't it? you never know what, or who, will be the outcome."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x you #criminal minds imagine

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angelickisscs · 2 months

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poolside autographs ~ jude bellingham series (ongoing)

‧₊˚ ୨ ୧ ˚₊ masterlist ~ forgotten paradise (part 1)

summary: Two hearts once intertwined find one another during a family holiday but will the ever-growing distance that they set continue to grow or will one arise to the challenge that is keeping them together?

authors note ~ this is way too long to proofread ngl so i am very sorry if there are any mistakes 😭😭

THE GOLDEN SUN shone brightly in the crisp summer sky as it casted its warmth across your bare shoulders in a gentle, comforting breath. A cerulean blue washed against the vast canvas above, puffs of clouds slowly disappearing inwards.

“And we can take a nice, deep breath.” Your dad announced as though it were an achievement to even make it to the resort, his body rising and falling rhythmically.

You stood and watched him as the bag you had packed earlier that morning weighed down your arm. It reprimanded you harshly, allowing you no breaks between the minutes that you had already been holding it.

“Dad, can we just go inside?” Your brother asked, his voice the living embodiment of boring. In response, your dad could only laugh. He beckoned you all forward, leading the way towards the vast glass doors that stood only a mere two feet away.

They opened hastily, letting out a small ring as you all entered through them. The cooling air-con that sat strategically placed above the door hit you in the face, sliding down throughout the rest of your body.

The lobby was mostly empty despite the number of plants that were growing throughout. It was a battle to lead your uncooperative suitcase past them. Somehow, it always managed to end up gripped to a vase or pot that held the greenery, refusing to let go as though the two objects had managed to befriend one another in a matter of seconds.

Your family allowed you to struggle, each wandering up to the desk in front so they could gather the room cards. A brief conversation with the receptionist about how ‘wonderfully beautiful’ the resort was, allowed you to catch up to them in time to politely take yours from the unfortunate woman.

She had managed to strike up the more talkative side of your father. The conversation ranged from the beginning sentence to surrounding activities to undoable work hours. Your mother seemed to have enough as she excused him from the conversation, slowly but surely dragging him away by his closest shoulder.

“How many ‘friends’ do you think he’s going to make on this trip?” Your brother, Oliver, asked with a cheeky grin coating his lips. “I’ll bet you a fiver it’ll be four.”

“Four? I’ll go with seven.” You responded as you stepped into the lift, sneakily shaking one another’s hands in an abrupt agreement to the bet you had just made.

Your mum leaned back from where she was standing so her head could land up in between the pair of you.

“Too high. Bound to only be two.”

Her voice could hardly consider itself as a whisper, its noise level exceeding the limit as to how loud it could be. Though your dad’s humming to the music that surrounded the death-trap of a mechanism seemed to be able to drown it out enough.

You scoffed in response. She had a history of underestimating her own husband in these kinds of circumstances and you could only hope that this would be another instance to add to the failure of a streak.

With a ping, you were all ushered out of the lift. There was a very brief conversation on where you all would next meet, Oliver’s hurry to get into his room being the main reason for that. Your dad did not want you roaming around an unfamiliar environment by yourself, no matter how peaceful it was, so you instead opted to meet back outside the lift.

It was a stronger relief than you had expected when you had finally pushed the keycard against the slot in the door, pushing the door open with your free shoulder. You abandoned your carry on and suitcase in an instance, banishing them to the corner of the room. The comfiness of the bed was loudly calling your name and you weren’t one to ignore someone nor something so in need of your approval.

You allowed yourself few moments of rest to gather whatever energy you had left over. There was not a multitude of it, but it would have to do. Kicking your legs into the air, you threw yourself upwards into a standing position so you could approach your suitcase, making the silly decision to unpack later when you came upstairs to get ready for dinner.

A bikini lead folded neatly atop of multiple towels, its burgundy colouring having to do for now. You quickly removed the clothes you had worn during the flight, replacing them with said bikini and a coverup just in time to answer the sound of a fist pounding against the unfortunate slab of wood that was your door.

“Hurry up then!” Said Oliver when you had made it to your door, his impatient eyes following you as you scrambled to collect everything you may need for those hours around the pool.

Your parents were both ready, dressed in a matching colour of swimwear, the same pair of sunglasses resting atop of their heads. They had managed to time the arrival of the lift perfectly, leaving no more waiting for your brother and you than necessary.

Everyone stayed slightly throughout the short ride. There was no reason for any form of conversation, each saving that for later in the day when the need placed itself in front of you.

Unsurprisingly, the lift had not lengthened its short arrival on the ground floor. You were the first to exit, a game of follow the leader ensuing so you could arrive at the poolside in one piece.

The foreign sun was soon to introduce itself to your skin, the heat that radiated off it being unlike any that you had previously felt. It snaked through your coverup, surpassing any defence that your sunscreen had placed, with ease. You all chose a row of five with your mother on the farthest end so she could be next to you.

Your dad was the one who lost the coin-toss, swiftly forced to collect you each a drink. Though, Oliver opted out of having one instead b-lining straight towards the pool just like he did when he was only eight years younger.

A certain peace encapsulated all of you, the sound of laughter carrying from the families around as the wind passed through all of them, dancing within the palm trees that sat firmly in their allocated areas.

“Well, that’s number one.” Your mum commented, turning her head just in time to catch your confused eyes so she could point to what she was referring too.

You laughed lightly at the sight that met you, your social dad already managing to abandon his prior mission and instead talking to a man he had sat next to at the open bar.

“Only one more to go for you then.” You reminded her before shuffling around slightly to get more comfortable.

She sighed lightly at what you said, “Is it too late to change my bet?”

You didn’t bother to use your words but rather to just slowly nod. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could make out her lightly hitting her leg in a makeshift punishment.

Whispering to herself, your mother lead back down on the sun lounger, feigning a disinterest at what was happening around her. She had pushed her sunglasses up over her eyes, the black coating making it so you could not see where she was looking, no matter how close you were to her.

There was an interest as to what she had managed to notice now so you began your own investigation. Dragging your eyes across the pool area to look for the suspect that had caught her attention, you questioning did not linger for a long time. A familiar set of brunette hair emerged out of the pool, his previously worn cap in hand.

He approached you with swift and sure movements, “I need you to protect this with your life.”

Your mother, who had become attuned to his antics, took the cap from his hands, placing it at her side. Oliver threw her a thumbs up before he went back to whatever he was doing beforehand.

The time passed by quickly, your body succumbing to exhaustion not soon after your brothers confusing request. Your mum had not fully given up when she woke you up, trying to ask you once again what she had prior to catch you out but it wasn’t anything she hadn’t tried before.

She had collected each of you one by one, your dad being the first victim and you the last. Both the men in your small group had become surprisingly hungry during the activities they had decided to do. It left you to realise you had never received that diet coke you had requested, leaving a slight resentment in your dry mouth.

“Have fun with your friend?” Your mum asked her husband, leaving a suggestion for him to add his name into the last slot of the sentence.

“Mark.” Your dad corrected, placing an arm over her shoulder. “And yes, he is genuinely nice. He has two kids as well, same age and everything.”

The doors once again opened with a loud ping, allowing everyone to leave with slow and light steps, the heat draining whatever you all had left.

You each excused yourselves to your rooms, a time limit still managing to be set at how long you had to get ready. Shaking your head as you unlocked your door, gathering your shower supplies from your suitcases before heading straight for the bathroom. You stripped off out of your bikini, making sure to throw your freshly washed hair into a bun as you turned the water onto cold, allowing it to fall over your body and wake you up slightly.

It was only a brief shower, doing all the necessary hygiene routines before reaching out to turn off the shower and grab a towel.

Having made the silly decision not to unpack earlier on, a mess slowly gathered in your room as you attempted to neatly sift through to find an acceptable outfit. It conveniently led at the very bottom of the suitcase; a strategy you had previously used that had ended up not going in your favour despite your efforts for it too. You had a longer than average history of being a bad packer that overestimated the amount of energy you would have upon arriving at your location. An unideal duo.

You sat at your desk chair with your outfit on, a small beauty blender in hand as you applied the concealer in the necessary places. There wasn’t a need to do makeup at once due to the one easy activity that you were doing so you chose to keep it light and easy.

For once, you seemed to get your time keeping in check. No one had come banging on your door by the time you were ready, leaving you to dawdle as you went through your bag to check you needed anything.

Your brother leant against the wall beside your room when you exited, phone in hand.

“This holiday is awesome. I met my idol today.” He whispered to you when he noticed your presence.

“Oh yeah? Did you fangirl?” You asked with a mischievous tone that was meant to mock him, but he was too much of a way through cloud nine to have the ability to notice that.

Oliver moved his head from side to side, deciding on his answer. “Slightly. Didn’t recognise him at first but when I did, I built up the courage to talk to him and it was great. Played a bit of water-polo with them and everything.”

“Is that the Alexander guy?”

His face dropped at your words, not one attempt to hide the strong snarl on his face succeeding, “Alexander guy? Seriously?”

“I don’t know football.” You defended with a shoulder raise leaving him to roll his eyes.

“No. It was someone else you wouldn’t know.” Oliver corrected. “We can count mum out of the bet, right?”

He fiddled around with putting his phone away in his pocket as he spoke, lowering his tone at the small chance that you dad had decided on hiding out to scare the pair of you.

“Of course.” You responded with an ‘obviously’ look which this time he had managed to notice though you did lay it on thicker than what you would usually prefer to do.

Oliver was about to give you a rude response when your parents called the both of you over, blissfully ignorant as to whatever was going on. They pressed the button to wait for the lift, striking up a conversation as to what might be best to do tomorrow.

The restaurant was a larger walk away than you all had anticipated when you had finally gotten downstairs. You walked what felt like all the hotel’s property before you finally arrived at the desired location. The sound of multiple conversations happening at one echoing throughout your ears. Though it was beginning to step back from its leading position, the sun’s heat lingered throughout the air, latching to your bare flesh as you walked through it in attempt to find a free table. The artificial light waved towards you, reflecting off every window that you passed, its brightness making you feel as though you would need sunglasses to get through this dinner.

A table of six was clear in front of you, allowing you to get off your feet, the pain beginning to get worse the more you walked. Despite being busy, the restaurant was yet to be full to its capacity, though the way people scattered themselves all over the place gave the image that it was.

Taking your seats, everyone picked up their own menu, decisively dragging their eyes across the busy piece of laminated paper. Discussions ensued about if anyone would be willing to share anything, everyone taking turns to list out their options. Your mum and you decided upon getting a sharing platter, neither of you particularly hungry.

The waiter soon made his rounds to your table, politely introducing himself being writing down your orders in his black, tarnished notepad.

Steady conversation ensued for the rest of the night, someone always having an opinion to share or a new topic to branch of off.

It was dark by the time you left on full stomachs; the majority of the restaurant’s guests having emptied out as well. The walkway lit with more soothing lighting, the yellow tone inciting tranquillity as birds sung their final song of the day.

Heels moved in harmony with one another, whispered conversations shared between one another as you all walked.

“Mark invited us to join him for a couple drinks at the pool, who feels like coming?” Your dad offered up, a chorus of agreement coming from the rest of your family. It wasn’t ideal for you to be doing this but since everyone else had already decided upon going, you left yourself with no choice but to go.

You allowed him to show you the way around once everyone had got going again. Your strides were steady, passing people with a friendly smile as you began to approach the pool once again. It was completely empty, towels still lead on sun loungers, most simply thrown on top and others folded.

The moon shone brightly, the almost full appearance it boasted being far too beautiful to not take a second to appreciate. A gentle wind still blew past your shoulders, forcing the heat that claimed its position in the air, into your already boiling body.

Flowers surrounded the edge of the resort in unity, insignificant amounts beginning to bloom and other having reached their time but all managing to stay equally as beautiful. Healthy grass filled every gap needed, helping to make the walkway look fuller.

Each one of you expressed your confusion as to where this supposed planned meet up was taking place though a short walk soon answered your silent questioning.

Music spilled out from speakers that positioned themselves perfectly around the bar to cause the least disturbance. Table came in few though most came empty. Instead, people gathered around the barrels that had barstools pushed up against them. Most opted not to use the provided branded coasters, their cold pints of beer placed rebelliously against the wooden top.

“There you are!” The man that was supposedly Mark walked up to your dad, a fist-bump taking place between the pair. “Thought you might have opted out of coming.”

“Never mate. I don’t turn down an enjoyable time.” Your dad laughed along with him. “This is the family.”

He introduced you all one by one, pointing to make it certain as to who he was talking about. You waved when it was your turn to, a small smile formed of regret making its way onto your face.

“Nice to meet you all.” Mark said, turning his body over to where his wife and sons sat. Or at least that’s what he said, your vision unable to do its only job due to your mum standing directly in front of you.

Not that you minded, the quicker you could get out of there the better.

There was no other chance given, however. Your mothers firm grip that enclosed your wrist always keeping you right by her side. She had dragged you over to the table before you could count to ten to complete the first deep breath you were having to take.

Your brother and his newly made friend recognised one another in an instance, taking themselves elsewhere to your and his mum’s displeasure. They called out a demand of ‘staying close’ though it was to no usage, the effort to do that wasting itself within a matter of seconds.

That seemed to make you mum far more hyperaware of your presence, her hand that held your wrist dragging you down into the seat next to her as everyone got acquainted.

“Sweetheart, do you want anything to drink?” Your dad asked you, taking a break from his walking away. Mark was steps ahead, not realising your fathers lack of presence.

You shook your head, “I’m not going to stay long so no thank you.”

Feeling your mums’ eyes linger on you in question, you turned to look at Denise. Her and your mum were partway through a conversation, your parent’s ability to be social being a skill you had not inherited nor developed.

“My Jude was just the same but if you look at him now, you would never be able to tell.” Denise stated, her hands moving around everywhere to emphasise her unknown point.

The singular usage of his name was enough for you heart to begin working harder, oxygen catching itself inside of your throat. It was a conditioned response that you had picked up many months ago, but it was hard not to feel silly at the mere coincidence that managed to weasel itself to directly in your eyeline.

“Sorry, forgive me. Is that your oldest?” Your mum questioned, familiarising herself with the bloodline of this new family.

Denise cracked a smile, “Yes. He should be here any minute now, he just had to take a call.”

Words seemed to blur around the edge of your consciousness for the minutes that passed, none of your interest managing to fixate onto the new topic the conversation had taken on.

Yet again, your father was yet to make a return. Though when you heard a loud roar travel through the crowd, it seemed to follow with hours before in the fact that it was no surprise. He had managed to find a television with the latest rugby match on and there was no method of drawing him away from it that any of your family had learned.

“Sorry about that. Oh.”

That voice. That same voice that was so deeply connected to the name.

No choices other than paralysing any movement your body could make could be handed to you, your eyes not daring to look up from their decided position whilst your arms seized with every muscle grabbing a hold of their closest friend.

It was an indescribable feeling that injected itself into your icy veins. One that you had never been subjected to. Your body seemed to become unfamiliar with the very organs that had been inside of you your whole life, disconnecting your brain from everything it could.

“Ah, Jude! There you are.” Denice began, the sound of wood creaking crawling throughout the bones that sat in your body. “This is Debbie and her daughter y/n.”

There wasn’t anything to shock you more that the fact that months of demanding work to just move on from him and his featherlight touch could undo itself with such little effort. A quick release knot that hadn’t even been pulled on before it began unravelling.

A short jab to the flesh that sat on the arm to your right brought you out of the tsunami wreaking havoc onto your mind.

“Nice to meet you.” He had a small voice crack, clearing it with a short cough of his throat. “Both.”

Looking up through the hoods of your eyelids, the skin around your nail falling victim to your painful habit, you mustered a miniature lifting of the sides of your lips to seem polite enough.

His eyes firmly watched you, for once not a care in the world as to who could possibly see.

The final word he spoke encouraged itself to hold the power of erasing your history, at least to your families. The same ones that both of you had sworn to meet countless times. Though, unfortunately for Jude, nothing nor no one, not even him, could ever deal with the weight of magically pushing away the indifference that lingered heavily between the pair of you.

Re-finding your words, you pushed yourself up from the chair that you sat him, your eyeline cutting out the man that stood on the side of the table.

“I’m going to head up.”

A panic set through Jude. That very same emotion bearing the power of his next actions. He could offer to walk you up to your room, he wanted to offer that. The words failed at exiting out of his throat, claiming a form of stage fright had developed.

He watched helplessly as everyone but him bid you a goodnight. His skin that concealed him so heavily began to heat up, his eyes being the only part of him that claimed its freedom.

They continued to trail you as you walked down towards the resort though his legs refused to cooperate.

“Are you sitting down?” Denise looked at her son suspiciously, her lips forming a strict straight line.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”

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