#i keep looking to other peoples journeys that want the same career as me but its not the same bc i want dif things and im just dif

[telltaleanatomicalheart]

i realize i keep having thoughts of going to school or taking a class that ends up with some certification or whatever, but in reality, going to school is just the only thing i know like i was in school my whole life and i was MISERABLE, but it was what i new. just like going to an upper education every year and thats all i knew. and being autistic and having such a drastic change is HARD cause im not in school anymore and dont wanna go back. but like honestly when i did take a class on something i loved, like film, i couldnt enjoy it. like my mind only new how to formulate 3-page essays after that. like i couldnt write a letterbox review for ages until now bc i just saw the assignment in everything but i also didnt like the curriculum, i HATED it actually, and i didnt learn what i actually wanted to learn, which i feel i can only do in the field or on like youtube or through people that have the same love for art that i do. but yeah the only good thing that came out of that class was a 10 minute video essay on tragic gays in film and a trip to universal where i was overtsimulated lol. but yeah i think traditional allistic academia will ruin my love for certain arts bc my mind will only formulate things not see the romace or portry in it anymore :(

[odinsblog]

“One weird, silver lining positive from the WGA's strike has been a sense of calm over a reality that has plagued me with anxiety for years — the fact that despite having a great agent, manager, and lawyer, despite having been in hundreds of rooms with top execs and producers, despite having pitched countless networks, and despite having sold multiple pilots and pitches, I still work in food and bev. For so long, it felt like such an embarrassment in so many ways because it felt like I was the only one who was biding time in between sales with a side hustle. When I would tell people at work that I wrote television, they'd look at me like I had ten heads, or like I was delusional. They couldn't IMAGINE someone who *actually* wrote television would also be asking them what temp they wanted their salmon.

But the reality is, TV money goes fast, especially when it's just a pilot sale. And if shit doesn't get picked up to series, that money only lasts for so long. Being responsible meant swallowing my pride and keeping a job that was more consistent and steady but also gave me the ability to take pitch meetings, to write on my down time, do rewrites, answer e-mails, and take notes calls.

And for so long I thought I was a minority in that regard. Like I had done something wrong to not be successful enough to rely solely on my career as a writer.

Yet the strike has pushed SO many stories to the forefront of writers doing the exact same thing I've done, GOOD writers, great writers, writers who shit I watch all the time, whose names I instantly recognize, whose reputations in this industry precede them. So when the studios leaked that the goal was to bleed writers dry, to make it so we lost our homes, I had to laugh. Writers like me will literally do anything to keep the dream of writing alive. It's in us. It never goes away, no matter how many steaks you server, how many martinis you mix, how many cold calls you make, how many Uber passengers you pick up, how many pizzas you have to deliver. We always always always find a way to make it to that next great hope of a pitch, a sale, a green light.

And that's how you know that the CEOs are so fucking out of touch with reality. With the industry. With the POINT of the industry the point for most (not all, but most) has never been to be filthy rich, or own a yacht, or even have a membership to SoHo house. It's been to make something we love. To see it come to life, and make other people happy, or sad, or angry, or scared. To take this story you have kicking around your head and turn it into some epic journey. To be part of the process of making worlds and characters come to life. To tell stories.

The CEO's point has been to make as much money as humanly possible. And so they think that's all there is motivating writers. it's not. It never has been. Just because those CEO's wouldn't wait tables or mix drinks or drive a Lyft in order to keep a dream going, doesn't mean the rest of us wouldn't. The CEO's don't have a dream, they have a lifestyle. And I promise you a dream is a much better motivator than a yacht or a Porsche.

Try to bleed us dry, guys. Just because you'd let your own dream bleed to death, doesn't mean we would. We will always find a way to keep it alive.”

—Stefanie Williams, a tv writer on strike

[kalki-tarot]

PAC - WHY SHOULD YOU FOCUS ON YOURSELF INSTEAD OF YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE RIGHT NOW ?

Just meditate and ask your guides/higher power to provide you insight.

Allow me to tap into your energy. 🧿

My readings are always honest and I don't sugarcoat things, pls read at your own risk. And try to have an open mind. 🙏🧿💕

Pile 1

Cards - 7 of wands, 6 of pentacles, 8 of wands

Are you in a hurry to meet them? Your future spouse? You are rushing things and trying to get ahead of your circumstances or the present reality. You know what pile 1? You still have a lot of parts unhealed of your soul. And this is not allowing you to fly freely as you should. You may feel like your fears are greater than you, but trust me they are not. You have all the power over your fears!

In the hurry of meeting them, you are forgetting your own self. You need to love yourself first before loving someone else. You should give yourself more time to think and process things. You should try to ground yourself in the present. Try to do root chakra and sacral chakra healing. Your fears have created some energy blocks which aren't helping you at all.

Don't worry, your desire of wanting to meet the one for you is being addressed by the universe. You will get what you want. But you need to heal yourself first. Clear your karma and self doubts.

Pile 2

Cards - 10 of pentacles, 7 of cups, 4 of pentacles

Pile 2 my loves, are going through a spiritual transformation or awakening right now. You can't miss any steps in the journey right? Please focus on healing yourself more.

Okay, so I can see that you are trying to manifest love and abundance in your life or you are just dreaming and visualizing about it. Let me tell you this one thing, that it definitely is working in your favour but you also need to break the walls of protection that surround you. You are scared to go outside and meet new people. Dear, please understand that you need to get out of your dreams and delusions and actually step out of your comfort zone to meet your future spouse.

Your future spouse on the other hand are too trying to heal their inner child wounds. They are saying that you need to get stable in life. You lack grounded energy and are underconfident about a lot of things. Please try to let go of any insecurities that surround you. Because they are hampering your growth, pile 2.

Pile 3

Cards : Temperance, 7 of wands, 5 of cups

Do you have this tendency to get depressed whenever you don't get any messages from the pick a card readings of? Don't be dependent for love on anyone, not even your future spouse. Love them, but stay away from unhealthy attachments. The reason of their no communication is because they are busy. They are working hard in their career right now. And you too should now focus on your career and goals.

Everything is well when taken in moderation. Balance love and career both logically and like a healthy human being please. You also have this tendency to run away from problems or sadness and indulge yourself in overworking don't do that.

Some of you could be in same sex relationships and you are thinking that things won't work out. Well, things would work out if you make them work out. Try to take bold decisions and stand for that decision.

Don't look back at the past, this is the final step to meet your fs. Just keep going.

Pile 4

Cards : Strength, 9 of cups, 4 of swords

You lack compassion for your own self. You are someone who gives everything to others but feels bad for giving it to yourself. You may connect well with plants and animals or just nature in general. Try to work on your self worth and don't critisize yourself too much.

You have many things to deal with right now. You have many parts unhealed. Try to relax and rejuvenate more physically as well as mentally and spiritually. It'll be good for your overall well being. Try to play with pets or just stroll in nature for sometime to refresh your mind.

You feel like there's so much competition somehow (?) And try to give yourself small rewards for accomplishing tasks. Try to celebrate your small successes please. You need to celebrate yourself more in order to attract the right partner for yourself.

You need to be in the energy of self love and good self worth to attract good partners who emit the same frequency. Do you understand? Lots of love to you.

[richarlotte]

365 Days from Rot to Hot (Pt. 2).

Your word is your bond. You make a promise to yourself; you keep it. You tell yourself you’re going to do better, you do better, and you keep moving forward and doing better no matter how hard it feels at times. You can’t change yourself out of hatred; you have to do it out of a deep love and devotion to yourself. I cherish my body, I love my soul, and I consider my mind to be one of my best non-physical attributes. When I put all three to work and focus all of my energy on something, it’s hard for me to fail. I would urge you to consider making a promise to yourself to do better and focusing all the good energy you can on making sure that you don’t let yourself down.

Small things make up the larger picture. You have to remember that each piece of the puzzle has to fit, and you have to know that if one thing seems or feels out of place, everything will feel off. Imagine you’re getting ready for the most important interview of your life, and you’re done up to the nines; your hair and nails look great, your outfit is stellar, and you step out and see that your perfect dress isn’t so perfect because you didn’t iron it. Take care of the little things and watch the big picture start to make sense. This doesn’t just apply to physical changes; it also applies to emotional and environmental changes.

Watch who you let around you. If you’re unable to completely remove toxicity from your life or limit your interactions with people, control the amount you tell them. For example, I grew up taking care of my younger brother and sacrificed a lot for him, and we are not on good terms at the moment. I’m not able to just not see him, so what I do is limit the amount I tell him about my personal life, keep our conversations bland but polite, and prevent him from judging my life choices. I’d recommend looking up the gray rock method if you’d like to know more about disengaging.

Take the time to write things down. I find that I’ve made the most progress when I’ve taken the time to write things down and reflect upon them later. I had a serious issue with binge eating for several months, and I began writing about the way I felt when I wanted to binge. I was able to track my feelings, recognize when I was beginning to spiral and figure out what had triggered the spiral, and stop my binge eating in its tracks. This wasn’t all I did, but it helped me identify a behavior that negatively impacted my overall welfare and help to stop it. I do the same with people; I take notes of how I feel after spending time with them, and I also take note of how I feel when I visit certain places. 

Don’t focus on meeting a man at the beginning of your journey. The first few months of your leveling-up journey should be solely dedicated to building up your confidence, focusing on your career or your education, gathering more skills, and learning to be independent. You shouldn’t start bettering yourself, immediately jump into a relationship, end it when it becomes clear that you two don’t work well together, and then have to start your leveling up journey from the beginning. Pour into yourself during those first few months, learn how to establish boundaries both with yourself and with others, and devote yourself to your journey. Relationships, both with partners and friends, are better when you’re on stable ground and feeling good.

Pt. 3 will be about creating your own aesthetic/brand.

[yuurivoice]

To the person too scared to try...

If you've been hesitant to do a thing, don't let that fear of being bad keep you from trying. Maybe it's a creative thing. Maybe it's a professional or personal thing. Whatever the case may be, we all start somewhere, and until we begin practicing we cannot begin growing.

I've had to listen to quite a bit of my older work recently, even work that I thought I was really proud of. BitterSweet Chapter 1 is a good example. In my head, I had told myself "that's about where I started being good" but you know what?

Not really. It's kind of rough, and that was years into my time voice acting. Listening to how I sound now, it's hard to believe that I was even the same guy. However, I couldn't have reached this point where I'm genuinely proud of my work and believe in its quality if I didn't begin all those years ago.

Going all the way back to the beginning, it was really not great, but you know what? People enjoyed it. There was an audience. Not everyone was rude, or cruel, or dismissive. There were some, sure. Where are they now, though? And where am I?

It's okay to be nervous, or even fearful of attempting a new thing. It means it matters to you. It means you have a desire to be good at that thing. Let that desire outweigh the anxiety and fear of failure. Failure is just a part of the journey, and believe me when I say you'll be grateful that you started moving forward when you begin hitting those benchmarks and growing in whatever it is you're wanting to do.

I look back and I cringe a bit. We all do, in some way or another. I built a whole career off of those rough cuts, though. Those miserable takes and questionable acting choices, it was all a part of figuring out how to get better. I'm able to look back and see where I learned, how I adjusted, and when I eventually figured it out. And the beautiful thing is, there are fans of the stuff I am not proud of. There are people who listen to things I literally can't stand long enough to finish and go "THIS IS WHERE I FELL IN LOVE WITH THIS CHARACTER!!!!" and it helps me realize that quality isn't always the measuring stick we should use.

Were you passionate about what you made? Were you having fun? Can others feel the love you had in that moment, the excitement that motivated you to do that thing? There are times where all of those intangibles become incredibly tangible. Where the immeasurable matters more. Where sometimes it's just about doing it, and enjoying it, and letting go of the comparisons, the doubt, and all of that bullshit that's keeping you from reaching your potential.

I know. Wall of texts are so popular these days, but I'm hoping that this message finds the exact person who needs to see this and it encourages them to take those first steps. Good luck, and have fun!

[bigtreefest]

I dare you to write a piece using a character that you want to, but have never had a chance to write for before. With the sentence "Well that was a surprise."

Saint or Sinner?

College! Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Word Count: 1,331

A/N: Amber!!! Thank you for tickling my brain with this dare! I honestly wanted to do Andy so badly, but this quote was screaming Lloyd to me and I couldn’t resist. To be completely honest, I had no intention of writing him, but my fingers tip-tapped away and I lost all control. I might’ve been possessed.

I also always plan on writing a Drabble, and then it ends up being as long as one of my fic chapters, but anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Smut (oral, m receiving), use of pet names, sociopathic tendencies, mean Lloyd, a twist?

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Ever since you were old enough date, you’ve been happily independent. You grew up in a small town, surrounded by blue collar families, including most of the members of your own.

You’d always had a keen ability to fit in anywhere, which you attribute to your upbringing. Your mom worked a corporate job, while your dad spent all day in a mechanic shop.

You were well off, but not raised like it, and you’d never judge those who had less than you, even though that’s what a lot of people expected.

Once you graduated high school, you got into Harvard where you met Lloyd. Lloyd was someone who was good at keeping his distance. You noticed it at first when you invited him to join a study group you had started with some other members of your cohort.

You received a terse “No thanks, Pumpkin,” punctuated with a curt nod and a wink, before he went to hang out with his other friends and his team.

You had made multiple attempts to include him in group activities, or engage in conversation when you could nab a seat next to him in class, but after some time, you stopped seeing him altogether. You could tell he was avoiding you and the study group you had become closer with. You’d probably actually call them your friends, becoming just as close as you were to some people back home. They picked up on the same things too, seeing that you were humble, and carried yourself in such a proper manner, earning you the nickname “the Saint.”

When word of that got around to Lloyd, he rolled his eyes. You were the complete opposite of him. Kind, welcoming, calculated, while he was cold, unpredictable, sociopathic. He couldn’t stand how successful you were, too. Professors and students alike constantly praised you, more than willing to help you in any way through your academic journey and career beyond. Where he schmoozed, you gracefully existed and got just as far.

You were perfect in everyone’s eyes, including his own, which is what infuriated him. There had to be a weak spot, somewhere where your surface would crack, and he had initially tried to find it by turning you down all those times, but it was unsuccessful.

None of the manipulation tactics he had worked so hard on perfecting for so long made you budge, either. He’d pluck out a random friend from your group to join his. Nothing. He’d sabotage your flash drive for your presentation, you’d have a backup in your email, ready to go. After you’d gone, you wished him luck and no technical difficulties like you had, with a giggle! He was enraged.

After being at the top of your class, the two of you were selected to go to a conference in DC. It was hardly supervised by your professor who had booked two rooms for you next to each other, getting himself a suite a few floors above.

You knocked on Lloyd’s door in the late afternoon, the day before your presentation. He opened it just enough to peek his head through.

“What do you want?”

You sighed with your signature smile on your face. “Did you want to go over everything one more time before dinner?”

He looked you up and down, face as stern as it ever was when he was dealing with you. “Not really, Sunshine.” He slammed the door in your face.

What Lloyd didn’t know was that all his little tactics were really chipping away at you. All you wanted was to spend time with him, to get close. You couldn’t help it. You’d be lying if you said it was in your usual friendship way, too.

No, you wanted more. There was something about how aloof he was that drew you in. You were obsessed and not willing to give up until you got what you wanted, what you deserved.

His little tendencies weren’t upsetting because he was rude, they were upsetting because they were keeping you away from what your body and the deep, dark recesses of your mind were screaming for.

The door slamming in your face was the last straw. Lloyd wouldn’t get away with this any longer. You could see what he was trying to do, and if you had any say, you’d make sure it failed. You were going to be the winner of the little mind game he was playing.

To be honest, by this point, Lloyd had given up, thinking you’d never break. You were just too sweet, a true Saint. Treating you like this had just become habit, which is why he was almost confused when he heard muttering on the other side of his door.

You had taken the magnetic clip out of your hair and maneuvered it against the hotel key card reader until it unlocked. The door flew open and your eyes landed on Lloyd, stomping towards him and pinning him with his back against the nearest wall.

He looked down at you, face unreadable beside his eyes being slightly wider than usual.

“Why are you being like this!? What did I do!?” You gritted out, your tone threatening.

Lloyd didn’t say anything, only the corner of his mouth twitched upwards.

“Tell. Me.” You slammed your hands against the wall, arms framing his head as you looked up into his eyes, your stomach pressed against his cock that was growing rock hard.

“Am I going to have to pull it out of you? Suck it out of you, myself?” Lloyd found himself at a loss for words for once. All he could do was part his lips slightly and give a small nod like he always did.

You began to unbuckle the belt of his ridiculously expensive pants, shoving them down just enough that you could see the hard-on pressing against his boxer briefs.

“Huh? Is that what you want? That what you need, Pumpkin?” You spat back at him, mocking his previous words.

His brain was finally beginning to catch up with the situation as he nodded down to you and you got on your knees.

“Yeah, do it. I know you want to. Suck me off.”

You didn’t need much more prompting, fueled by rage and control. You pulled down his underwear, his dick springing free.

You gave him no time to prepare, immediately licking from the base of his length to the tip before fully taking him into your mouth. Your mouth was stretching to accommodate his girth, but it was nothing for you in the lust of the moment. You set a vigorous pace, Lloyd’s head thrown back against the wall as he moaned loudly.

He pulled his head forward as his abs tensed, already close with the debauchery of the situation. He tangled his ringed fingers in your hair, helping to guide you along his length.

“That’s it. Keep going. Not such a Saint, are you?”

You hummed against his length in response, saliva dripping down your chin and his balls that you were lightly tugging in you hand. The other hand had its nails dug into his thigh, causing a slight sting that heightened the pleasure for Lloyd.

Before he knew it, he was coming down your throat. You pulled away as you swallowed his salty release, looking up at him and wiping off your face before standing up.

You caught his gaze again and Lloyd looked at you with bewilderment mixed with his post-orgasmic haze.

“Well that was a surprise.” He said between heavy breaths, pulling up his underwear and pants, buckling his belt again. Oh, he had no idea the tactics you had in store for him.

Your hands pressed against his abs in his knitted shirt. One stayed there as the other traced up his firm pec, past his collar and found purchase around his neck, lightly squeezing.

“So are you finally going to tell me what’s going on in the head behind that ridiculous mustache?”

Bonus A/N: Um… I don’t really know what happened. I think I blacked out.

[obislittleone]

The Winner Takes It All

Episode 1

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Tribute(OC)!Reader

Chapter Warnings: The Hunger Games reaping. Canon typical angst. Reader has a speech impediment.

Chapter Summary: Lukas Artanhour is your best friend since childhood who makes the worst decision of his life when he volunteers as tribute for the 71st annual hunger games... Luckily, he won't be going alone, and you didn't even have to volunteer.

Word Count: 2.8k

Don't be detered by the OC in this chapter, he is just someone I made up to make the hunger games more emotional of an event 🙃

The representative from the Capitol being the same every year was almost a comforting sort of repetition through the years, but compared to the annual tradition it surrounded, you were hardly relaxed at seeing him make his dazzling appearance. A new outfit every year, made from the finest fabrics and silks that eight had to offer… And you wore the same green top and skirt. At least this year there were seashells. 

“Good afternoon, District Four!” His shout of happiness was hardly felt by any who stood here in this gathering. “There’s nothing like being here, amongst the beautiful waters and sandy beaches.”

It’s cold and windy down by the docks, with the sand getting kicked up from time to time. District Four is one of the most beautiful places in all of Panem, and it’s known, as all districts are, for its main production to the Capitol. Fish. 

The people here are wealthier than most in the districts, a close third in rank to both one and two, who reign supremely amongst the favorites. The Hunger Games have obviously played a serious part in all of that. Four being a career district meant that the Capitol goers were far more likely to invest. Careers are the favorites, no matter which district they come from. 

The reaping is today, and you don’t want to think about it. It is why you arrive at your work station an hour before you need to be there. You’ve spent years of your life down here by the docks, whether it was waiting for your father’s boat to return, or your friend to bring you the boxes that needed to be loaded onto Capitol trucks. You’re a mover, it’s your job. It doesn’t pay well, because the real money is in fishing, but you wouldn’t dare go out on a boat. 

“You’re early,” Lukas nearly spooks you, smiling after watching you jump from surprise. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s r-reaping day. I couldn’t s-sleep.”

He was used to the skip and stutter of your words, un-phasing him as you spoke each one. 

“I get it. My mom keeps hounding me about it. Every year I grow taller, stronger, she tells me I could win,” he sat down next to you in the sand, handing you a shell he found on his way here. “Another for the collection.”

“Thanks,” you took it gratefully, placing it in your pocket for safekeeping until later. You journeyed back to his previous words, what he meant by them. “Does your mother w-wish you’d gone through the career program?”

He shrugged, looking out into the sea, his mind just as full of indecent thoughts as yours. 

“I’m not sure what she wants. Ever since dad died she’s just been… different.”

“My parents have s-said, if it ever gets t-too bad, you c-can always stay with us.”

He nods, his appreciation shown through a single sideways glance. He knows he has places to go, he knows that there are others that are willing to treat him as a son should be treated, but he wants his own mother to do it. He longs for the woman she once was, and hopes if he can make her proud enough, maybe she will be that way again. 

“I’ll think about it,” he said, but he’d been saying that for the past year. 

So far, you’d learned she’d been hitting him, been yelling and screaming about how he would never measure up to his father. You never saw these interactions of course, because if you had you may have broken down for him, your friend of eleven years. In school, he was the only one who would talk to you, the only person who ever gave a damn about the girl with the stutter. He defended you when they made fun of you left and right, for nearly everything they thought was wrong with you.

“You s-shouldn’t listen to her,” you shook your head, the waves crashing on the shoreline several yards down. It was the only thing that would remain peaceful about today, when later on two children would be hauled off and expected to fight or die. “She isn’t in her r-right mind anymore.”

“I know that.” 

He agrees, he knows. He is well aware that her mind slipped maybe even before her husband died. She had been driving him to the long hours that he’d worked, and eventually made him work out on a ship during a storm. The boat sinking was just fan to the flame of her deteriorating mental state. 

He picked up a rock from the sand a few feet over, standing up and tossing it to skip over the water before it began to wash on the shore. He gave you a hand to your feet, pulling you up until you were steady. 

“Boat leaves in a few minutes, I’ll see you when we get back,” he said, turning on his heel in the sand. You nodded at him before he walked off, into the working hours of the day. You shouldn’t even be here for another hour. You know that they’ll be gone for two or more and you don’t need that long to prep the boxes. But you can’t sleep. 

-

Lukas returned to the docks with a much better mindset. The water always made him feel serene. He came to land, lugging the giant nets tied together to keep the fish from falling out. Today’s catch was good as any other, and the songs the boys sang on board nearly made him forget everything else. 

“Salmon are catching like crazy this time of year,” he muttered, meeting you halfway to help you untie the knots and start packing the boxes. “Thinking I might sneak one home if there’s extra. You probably can, too.”

“I’ll t-try. My pa could use s-something more to eat.”

He weeded through all the skimpy ones, pulling the biggest catches out first and laying them sideways in the boxes, filling the middles with ice before adding another layer. It was the same thing everyday, but he never tired of it. He was content to live the life of a district four fisherman, and he was good at it. 

“How’s his arm doing?” He asked, since you’d brought up your father. 

He’d broken it in a rigging accident about two months ago, and the slow healing process was not doing your family any favors. You’d been hungry several times, so obviously extreme measures had to be taken. You won’t think about that right now, though.

“Not any better, n-not any worse.” The fish box was nearly packed, but you paused to think for a moment. “Maybe I s-should try and catch. It pays a lot m-more, and we could use the money.”

He grabbed you by the shoulder and turned you to face him. 

“You’d be scared to death. If your family needs some money, I can help out. It’s the least I can do when they offer me free lodging,” he half joked, completely serious in all aspects about the help with financial assistance. 

“Lodging that y-you’ve never taken.”

“Listen, I’m happy to help if you need me to. Especially with your brother, now,” he mentioned, making you think about the sweet little sleeping face you’d passed by on the way out of your home. Your baby brother, born not a year ago. You hated the idea of him growing up hungry, or having to start work early in his life like you did. 

“Well, t-thank you. I’ll think about it.”

He shook his head, seeing as how you quoted him from all the times your family offered him help before. 

He waved you off when you finished stacking the prepared boxes onto your slab dolly, tilting it back and beginning to push it towards the truck that pulled in not too long ago. It was a steep climb, up the ramp from the docks and onto the street, but it made you quite strong over the years. That and all the heavy lifting, becoming easier with every twenty by thirty of fish. 

Lukas would be taking off early today, as would most of the other boys of age. You would be heading home after loading this shipment as it were. You had to shower, had to clean up your hair and skin and make yourself presentable for the reaping. 

You opened the back of the truck, tossing the boxes up one at a time, before climbing into it and stacking them neatly in one of the four corners. You always managed to obtain a single splinter from every shipment loaded, but luckily today’s wasn't too bad, you could probably dig it out with a small pin. 

Later in the day, your mother gave you a solemn smile as you walked out the door, having just been readied and dressed in your best clothes. Even in a wealthier district, they still had mended holes in the bottom of your skirt. That’s the sad thing about every district. Even amongst the wealthier ones, there’s still poverty that simply cannot be helped. The Capitol's greed and thirst for luxury, needing every little thing that life has to offer at their beck and call. You can’t even imagine what it’s like in places like eight or twelve. Places where food is not the primary cultivation of the people. 

It was light green, your outfit. It had white seashells on the waist of the top, and a few along the edge of the skirt as well. They hadn’t always been there, but you insisted they should be. You didn’t really have much else of a use for all the shells you stole from the sands of the shoreline. You hated wearing the same outfit to this single event every year. You hardly wore it any other time, which made a distaste for it grow every time it came out of your closet. 

The way your mother did your hair was simple. A single french braid down the back of your head, tied off with a light green ribbon to match everything else. She watched how it fell a bit looser with every step you took, making your way across the streets and into the city’s center. It’s your last year, and having avoided every year before, you know you should feel a semblance of relief, but you don’t. 

Your mother waits for the peacekeeper behind a stand to check your name off a list before she parts with you, hugging you tightly one last time and allowing you to kiss the head of the baby on her hip. He’s primarily the reason you remain so nervous. Even if your name doesn’t get called, his could be, someday.

You line up in an open space, next to the last girl that checked in. She wasn’t in your row last year, you would have remembered her. She was pretty, with blue eyes and dark raven hair. Her skin was tanned like most in four, but had a certain glow about it. She’s too pretty to be reaped, you thought. It didn’t make a difference, though. As you stared head on to the bowl on the stage, centered in front of the girl’s side, you got tense. Your name is in there six times this year. That’s three more than last year, and five more than the year before. 

Someone could still volunteer. But the career program had not made mention of producing a female tribute this year. It all depended on the luck of today’s draw. For all you knew, your name would be surpassed by someone else. There were other poverty stricken areas in four besides yours, and it made sense that somebody else could have been hungry enough to outgo you. 

You looked around to the boy's side. Lukas was there, and further up in the rows. He must have gotten here quickly after leaving the docks. His face was sullen, and something had changed, but you were unsure of what it was. When he looked around, you almost thought he’d been looking for somebody, but his expression told a far different story. 

The last few children in the line were filing in, and the musical fanfare blasted through the speakers by the stage. You were grateful not to be so close to those this year. 

The representative from the Capitol being the same every year was almost a comforting sort of repetition through the years, but compared to the annual tradition it surrounded, you were hardly relaxed at seeing him make his dazzling appearance. A new outfit every year, made from the finest fabrics and silks that eight had to offer… And you wore the same green top and skirt. At least this year there were seashells. 

“Good afternoon, District Four!” His shout of happiness was hardly felt by any who stood here in this gathering. “There’s nothing like being here, amongst the beautiful waters and sandy beaches.”

His rabble was boring, and nearly the same as it was last time. The anticipation was killing just about every girl and boy in this crowd, knowing there were no careers at the ready this year. It was always easier to rest at night while knowing if your name was called, another courageous youngster would step in to take your place. 

“I’m so excited to be back and reaping this year’s tributes for the 71st annual Hunger Games!” 

There was a surge of excitement coming from the sidelines, and it was only now that you looked past the blockades to see that there were actual Capitol civilians standing there this year. How nice, some onlookers for when an innocent child gets sent away to their death. Absolutely wonderful. You looked on past them, towards the victors standing close by. They seemed anxious as well, the old woman holding one fist to her mouth while the other clutched her chest. She rocked back and forth on her heels, and had to take a step every few seconds to keep from becoming too restless. The young man was stiff, his arms behind his back and every muscle in his body tense as a board. His eyeline never left the bowls on the stage. They went through this once, too.

When you refocused on the man at the microphone, your heart beat rapidly. He was approaching the boy’s side of the stage. 

After a small flourish of his hand, the Capitol rep stuck his hand into the glass, two papers in his hand before he dropped one. The dropped paper’s namesake got immensely lucky this year. 

“Harley Miggsen,” he read the paper, but before the peacekeepers had a shot at cornering the poor fourteen year old kid, with his eyes wide in horror, another voice spoke up. 

“I volunteer.” 

Your head snapped to Lukas, his hand raised high in the air. Murmurs started almost immediately about how everyone thought there weren’t any careers prepared. They spoke softly and wondered if there would be a career for the girls, too. Lukas isn’t a career, why would he do this?

“I… guess we have a volunteer,” the man at the mic clapped his hand, watching the young man getting ushered up the stairs to stand beside him on the stage. “What’s your name, son?” 

“Lukas Artanhour, sir.”

“Lukas Artanhour, everyone!” He raised his hand as to signal applause from the capitol guests, and they cheered, happy to see that there was now a potential victor as opposed to that poor boy from before. “Now for the ladies.”

You spared a glance at the victors once more, and they looked even more on edge for this pick than the last. Female victors were obviously more rare in every district, so getting a decent tribute that wouldn’t die right away was probably preferable. You couldn’t imagine all the people they’ve tried and failed to save over the years. The young man won only six years ago, but with no other victors since, that means he’s gone through twelve tributes. All dead, all gone. 

Your mind had been momentarily distracted, or at least it had been until the next name came over the loudspeakers. 

“Mercedes Blythe.” 

It almost didn’t register. 

It almost went in one ear and out the other.

It almost was paid no mind or attention…

But that is your name, and you’ve heard it said a million times since you were a baby. Not once did it ever sound like that, though. 

You stood still until you realized there were peacekeepers on their way to grab you. 

It was slow, the way you took steady steps from your row towards the stage. You couldn’t be rushed even if they tried to make you. You could only look at the ground. You didn’t want to chance looking up and seeing your mother past the blockades. God only knows what she’s thinking and feeling right now. After everything bad happens to a family, the mother of that family should not have to wonder whether her child will live or be killed in an arena. 

You finally looked up when you got to the stairs, meeting Lukas’ eyes first, and seeing they were sad and full of pity. You stood beside the Capitol rep on the other side, allowing him to raise your hands together while the tears finally welled up in your eyes. The delay in your mind was the only one to blame for that. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, district four’s tributes!”

-

Tags (open):

[missywritesfor7]

❤️‍🩹Lifeline | MYG❤️‍🩹

Synopsis: It’s long been controversial for idols to date, but idols dating each other can be really beautiful or a complete nightmare. When Yoongi's relationship with another idol is discovered, he decides maybe it’s time to break the taboo and show people it’s ok for idols to date. Instead, they find themselves caught in the midst of one media frenzy after another and struggle to keep their relationship as strong as it had been the past 2 years. Yoongi finds a self destructive way to cope, and it causes even more problems than it solves. As they fight for their relationship and their careers, they discover that sometimes, the only way to truly be free is to let go.

Pairing: idol!Yoongi x idol!OC

Warnings: nsfw, alcoholism, cheating, depression, anxiety, Yoongi goes through a bisexy ho phase, Yoongi is also in his alcoholic phase, post-military BTS

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Ch. 4: Who?

Yoongi is lucky today is a travel day. He sleeps the entire journey to their next stop in Chicago. Frankly, he looks awful and the guys can tell. They’re worried especially since the next night is day 1 of their 2 back to back nights of concerts.

When Yoongi gets to his room he immediately pours himself a glass of whiskey from the minibar. He sips it first until there’s a knock at the door. Instead of putting his drink down, he downs the entire glass in one go then goes to the door to see Namjoon standing there.

“Hey, hyung,” Namjoon says as Yoongi lets him in.

“Hey,” Yoongi replies. He’s not sure why Namjoon is at his door when they just saw each other a few minutes ago.

“I just wanted to talk to you and see how you’re doing.” Namjoon takes a seat at the edge of the bed and gestures for Yoongi to do the same. “I don’t want to seem like I’m prying or anything, I just couldn’t help but overhear you last night.”

“Oh,” Yoongi sighs remembering that Namjoon’s room was right next to his. “Yeah,” he nods. “I’m ok.”

Namjoon frowns at the smell of whiskey that comes from Yoongi’s breath. Paired with the shouting he heard last night, he knows that Yoongi is not ok the way he says he is.

“Are you sure?” Namjoon asks. “Are you and Hyeri ok?”

“Pfft,” Yoongi scoffs. “She’d rather have people believe lies than the truth. I’m doing just fine.”

“Hyung…” the smell of alcohol is very strong now.

“If that’s what she wants then fine. What can I do when I’m all the way over here anyway?”

“Did you drink on the flight?” Namjoon asks, though he knows the smell is much too fresh to be from their flight.

“Oh, yeah,” Yoongi lies. “Just a small drink.”

“I see.” Namjoon nods knowing that’s not the truth. “You know you can always talk to me, or any of us, if you need to. We understand how hard it may be for you.”

“Thanks. I’m fine though.”

“Ok,” Namjoon says standing. “I just wanted to make sure. Still, I’m here for you.”

“I appreciate it.”

Namjoon reluctantly leaves knowing Yoongi is lying. He’s afraid Yoongi is going to spiral into something self destructive, but he knows Yoongi won’t admit to not being ok until he’s far beyond that.

Jimin, who had the room on the other side of Yoongi last night, finally mentioned to Namjoon before their flight the amount of drinks he saw Yoongi have during the show. He also heard Yoongi screaming on the phone and couldn’t stay silent. That’s why Namjoon came to check on Yoongi. He was hoping it wouldn’t be so bad, but once he smelled the alcohol on Yoongi’s breath he knew it wasn’t good.

Yoongi didn’t want to worry anyone. He can tell Namjoon knows something is up. He doesn’t want the rest of the group worrying about his well-being, especially when it’s all because of Hyeri. They should be focused on the tour, not him being painfully in love with someone who doesn’t seem to care about him or his feelings. He pours himself another drink and downs it faster than he did the last.

He can’t rest at all. He chooses not to spend the day seeing the sights of the city and instead stays in his room. He doesn’t eat much but he drinks plenty. With each sip he goes back and forth between feelings of sadness and anger. He starts to despise himself more and more because he hurts. He’s so angry. He wishes he could be someone else for once.

It gets late and room service has ended. Yoongi asked a manager to bring him a bottle of gin earlier, but he’s already finished the bottle so he’s afraid he may be questioned if he asks for another. He drank to the point of not feeling like himself anymore and he wants to stay in that phase. It feels freeing.

It’s after midnight and Yoongi decides to go out on his own. He would usually need a manager to go with him, but he doesn’t want them to know. He doesn’t want anyone to know. He sneaks out to his app requested ride and gets dropped off at a bar far enough from the hotel to avoid being seen.

Unfortunately this bar is a bit more lively than he expected. He was hoping for a low key bar where he could quietly have a few drinks then sneak his way back to the hotel. Instead he’s circling the place until he finds a slightly secluded spot in a back corner. He orders a drink and simply people watches.

The couples dancing and having a great time together makes him sick. He orders a second drink. He notices a girl with a haircut similar to Hyeri’s. He orders a shot. Why is his mind on her anyway? He came here to escape, not allow her to rule every one of his thoughts. He orders another drink.

“You’re too cute to be so shy.”

“What?” Yoongi looks over to the direction of the voice and sees a woman in a red crop top and skin tight leather pants with long brunette hair approaching him.

“Sorry,” the woman says sitting next to him. “You looked like you were trying to find some courage.” She gestures to the empty glasses on the table.

“Oh,” Yoongi forces a smile. “No, I’m just enjoying myself.”

“Then you’re definitely too cute to be here drinking alone,” she smiles. “You look like you could use a friend.”

“I look that sad?” He chuckles.

“That’s not what I meant,” she laughs. “I just hate to see someone who looks like you sitting alone in a place like this.” She pauses and looks him over. His eyes are red though she isn’t sure if it’s from drinking or crying. Either way, her main focus is just having a good time. “You seem like you’re trying to forget something.”

“You’re good,” he laughs finishing his drink. Thanks to drinking all day and now her presence, he feels like he’s pretty close to finally forgetting.

“Whatever you’re trying to forget, I can help you,” she says leaning in.

“How so?”

“Have a drink on me,” she smiles.

“Sure,” he nods.

Normally he would decline. Normally he would think about how unsafe it could be to have someone else order a drink for him. Normally Yoongi wouldn’t be somewhere like this in the first place at this hour. But right now he doesn’t feel like Yoongi.

She tells him her name is Sarah, and that she frequents this bar often. Not wanting anyone to find out he’s here, Yoongi tells her his name is Austin and he’s visiting from out of town. Sarah begins telling him about the best places to go in the city. What to see, where to eat, and the best shops. They chat and drink a bit more until Yoongi realizes he probably needs to head back to the hotel. When he starts to request a ride, Sarah stops him.

“Let me drive you,” she says placing a hand on his arm.

“Really?” He asks.

“Sure,” she smiles. “I’ll show you how nice people really are in this city.”

Usually Yoongi would decline. He’s already done a lot of things that are out of character for him. But he’s not Yoongi right now, he’s Austin.

He follows Sarah out to her car under the 2am moonlight. Yoongi wouldn’t dare tell anyone the hotel he’s staying at, but Austin does. Sarah gets ready to drive off but she pauses before putting the car in gear.

“You’re a really cool person, Austin,” she smiles. She reaches her hand over and touches his thigh. “You seemed a bit down at first, but I see that you’re just someone who’s hurting. I don’t know why you’re hurting, but since we may never see each other again, I’d like to help you hurt a little less.”

“What makes you want to do that for me?” He asks too drunk to care about her touch on his thigh when he normally doesn’t like for anyone to touch him. Except Hyeri. The thought of her suddenly burns him up inside.

“Because you’re a nice person.”

“Nice?” He asks almost offended. Nice is why Hyeri is all over the internet as Kihyun’s girlfriend and not his. Nice is why he hurts so damn much. “But what if I’m actually not nice?”

“Are you saying you’re not nice?” She tilts her head.

“Not at this hour,” he smirks. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying but his hurt and anger are riding the waves of all the drinks he’s had today and he’s in no position to stop it.

“Oh?” She smiles. “Let me get you back to your hotel.”

She puts the car in drive and takes off for Yoongi’s hotel. He feels like he’s having an out of body experience the entire ride. How did he end up in the car with someone he just met at a bar. He has no security and no one even knows he’s gone. If things go bad, they could be really bad.

It’s not until he sees the hotel in the distance that he begins to breathe a sigh of relief. Instead of dropping him off at the front door he asks her to drop him off in the back. It would be easier for him to slip in unnoticed that way and he’ll just take the stairs up a floor then take the elevator to avoid anyone at the front desk seeing him. Before he can get the car door open she stops him.

“Wait,” she says touching his arm. “Let me give you something before you go.”

Sarah unhooks her seatbelt and leans in close to his face. She pauses a moment looking his face over. He would never be in a position like this. Not as Yoongi at least, but tonight he’s Austin and Austin is filled with rage because he spent most of the ride thinking about Hyeri. He spent most of the ride wishing Yoongi would stop hurting so Austin can have a good time. So Austin takes over and connects his lips with Sarah’s. She looks back at him and smiles.

That kiss did nothing but further fuel the fire burning in him. He goes after her lips again much more aggressively. Her hand travels up his thigh until it meets the angry bulge in his pants.

“I’ll help you with this.” She unbuttons his pants and releases his cock from its prison.

He’s in another world right now. He’s beyond drunk and he feels like he’s not even awake anymore. The moment her lips connect with his warm tip he feels a rush of blood shoot through his body in a fiery blaze.

“Fuck,” he moans. He grabs a handful of her hair as she moves her mouth up and down his shaft.

Her tongue feels amazing. The way her hand massages his balls makes his toes curl. The way the tiny voice in his head reminds him that this isn’t quite as good as Hyeri’s mind numbing blowjob makes him mad. He clinches his jaw and tightens his grip in Sarah’s hair.

Fuck Hyeri for everything.

He powerfully bucks his hips up hitting the back of her throat. She gags a second but continues her motions. He hits her with another thrust with an animalistic growl. She moans around him and he can’t help but lift her head by her hair to look at her dick drunk face. The mischievous smile on her face burns him up more.

“You still seem a bit too nice,” she teases.

“Are you saying you want me to be meaner?” He asks pulling her hair more.

“Do your worst, baby,” she smiles.

Baby. Who the fuck does she think she is to call him that? He’s not her baby. He’s no one’s baby. He doesn’t want to hear anyone call him that again.

“If that’s what you want,” he growls through his teeth.

With his fingers still tightly wound in her hair, he pulls her back to his cock and shoves himself as far into her mouth as he can. She takes him all like a pro. She hums like a savant. And her hand returning to massage his balls feels so good it pisses him off.

He’s so drunk that he can’t stop. He’s so pissed that he can’t help but hit the back of her throat harder with each thrust. He’s not himself and he doesn’t care. Fuck Yoongi and his feelings. Austin wants revenge.

“Get ready,” He growls nearing his peak.

She hums her acknowledgment as he continues controlling her head movements.

“Fuck,” he groans.

His hips thrust into her hard then he holds her head at the base of his shaft with his entire length inside of her mouth. All of his burning hot rage goes shooting down her throat, and she swallows every drop.

When his vision returns to normal, he releases his hold on her and takes a deep breath. She looks back up at him filled with lust. To her that was amazing. She likes it rough and wanted to see how far she could push him. He did not disappoint and now she wants even more.

“Thanks for the ride,” Yoongi says buttoning his pants back up. “I really appreciate it.”

“Do you really have to go now?” She pouts. She was hoping she could at least get him to invite her back to his room.

“Yeah,” he responds. He’s drunk but not so drunk that he doesn’t realize that taking anyone back to his room would be an absolutely terrible idea. Especially since he and everyone else will need to be awake in just 4 more hours. “Who knows, maybe we’ll meet again.” He smiles at her then steps out of the car before she can say anything else.

Getting back to his room was a challenge. Not because he thought he would be seen, but because he’s so drunk it’s hard to walk. Plus he just got a toe curling blow job that he hasn’t recovered from yet, he’s lucky his legs are holding him up at all. He immediately sheds his clothes and passes out on the bed.

He wakes up to the sound of his alarm going off a short 4 hours later and he feels terrible. His head is throbbing and his vision is spinning. He has about an hour to pull himself together before heading off to rehearsal followed by a couple of interviews. There’ll be some free time before soundcheck and he hopes he’ll be able to get a nap in because he needs way more sleep.

He tries his best at rehearsal. He put ice on his eyes to make them look less puffy. Eye drops to help with the redness and dryness. Plenty of mouthwash to mask the alcohol on his breath, especially since he had another glass of whiskey thinking he’d take the ‘hair of the dog’ approach to getting over his hangover. Despite all of this, it’s hard for him to muster up the energy.

The rest of the guys notice but say nothing. Jimin and Namjoon agreed they would keep an eye on Yoongi, but they don’t want to alert the others unless they feel it’s gone far out of hand. The sting of Hyeri’s fake relationship is still very fresh and they can understand that he’d take it hard. He’s a man going through some things so it’s natural that he’d drink a little more than usual right now. They don’t want to cause concern with everyone that could impact their performances.

Thankfully for Yoongi, they have no idea how much he drank yesterday. They have no idea he went out on his own just to drink more. He can barely even remember everything that happened last night, but he remembers being so far away from reality that he couldn’t feel anything anymore.

He knows he was able to relieve some tension with the help of some woman whose name he doesn’t even remember. It doesn’t matter though, he released a lot of anger because Hyeri kept popping up in his mind. She’s all he could think of and he was so pissed about it that he released his rage into the back of a complete stranger’s throat.

Yoongi is sluggish through most of the day. He’s thankful that Namjoon does most of the talking during their American interviews, so he can just sit in the back and pretend like he doesn’t understand anything. When they finish and get their free time, Yoongi passes right out in his bed.

Things aren’t looking good to Namjoon and Jimin. Namjoon had a moment of desperation and reached out to Hyeri to ask her side of things. He didn’t hint to her anything about Yoongi’s status, he only told her that he’s taking it hard. She told Namjoon about their conversation that night and that she’s been trying to talk to Yoongi again but he’s not answering.

Hyeri called Namjoon and cried to him for an hour about how much she’s hurting and how she doesn’t want to lose Yoongi. She knows he’s pissed and she doesn’t blame him for it, she just wants to try to make it right. She even talked to her company about possibly announcing their breakup sooner rather than later so that she and Kihyun won’t have to keep pretending. With Kihyun being Yoongi’s friend and Hyeri being his actual girlfriend, things have gone very awkward between them. Hyeri is just glad they’re already done shooting the show because the great chemistry they had is now awkward and almost painful.

Namjoon admitted to Hyeri that Yoongi isn’t taking it well and he’s worried. He told her about his drinking that has gone far beyond his usual amount. Then he asks the question that he’s been trying to figure out.

“Are you two still together?” Namjoon asks. He’s aware of all of the hurt between the two of them, but no one has said specifically what the status of their relationship is.

“Namjoon,” she sighs. “I’m not even sure. He told me whether I’m here or not when he gets back is up to me. I don’t know what that means and he won’t answer me to give clarification. I just…” she pauses trying to hold back another wave of tears. “I love him, and I miss him, and I know this is all my fault, but I’m regretting everything I’ve ever done in my life. Namjoon, it hurts so much.”

Namjoon doesn’t know what to say. Perhaps there’s nothing he can say. If Yoongi won’t answer her at all what could he do? All he can do is try to keep him from spiraling too deep into alcoholism, and do his best to keep the atmosphere light at all times. It’s hard though. So incredibly hard.

[kylianswifey]

La Flamme de l'Amour - Chapter 1

Summary: In the glittering City of Light, Anita embarks on a journey of self-discovery and adventure. But fate has other plans when she meets Kylian, a man in a complicated relationship with Maria. Despite their attraction, they must keep their feelings hidden as they navigate a dangerous game of love and loyalty.

Anita walked through the door of her new apartment in Paris, taking in the empty space around her. She couldn't help but drop her bags on the floor as she stood there, staring at the place that would become her home for the next few months. The apartment was nothing like the one she had left back home. It was small, with a single bedroom and a tiny living room that barely had enough space for a sofa. But it was hers, and she was excited to make it her own.

As she looked around the apartment, Anita couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia for her old life. She had left behind her family, friends, and everything that she had known to start a new life in a foreign country. But she knew that it was worth it. She was here to pursue her dreams of becoming a famous photographer, and she was determined to make the most of this opportunity. Her dad would’ve been so proud of her. Before he passed away, he knew Anita had the same passion for photography as he did and he always encouraged her to never pass on an opportunity to expand her career or her knowledge. And that’s what she did, that’s why she’s here. 

A knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts.She opened the door and was greeted by a young woman with curly brown hair and bright green eyes.

"Bonjour!" the woman said cheerfully. “I’m sorry for disturbing you, but I noticed this suitcase outside your front door and I figured you left it there by accident.” Anita looked down at the suitcase and smiled.” Oh, thank you for letting me know. I just moved in today, I guess I got distracted”. The woman smiled at Anita and reached out her hand for Anita to shake.” No problem at all. I’m Maria, nice to meet you.” Anita shook her hand and smiled at her.“Nice to meet you too, Marie. I’m Anita. I guess you live here in the building too?”, she let go of her hand.

Maria shrugged her shoulders.” Um, kind of. My boyfriend lives here, so I’m around here most of the time.” “Oh, that’s great. I guess I’ll see you around often then.”

Maria smiled. "Yeah, I hope so. Well, I'll let you get back to unpacking. It was nice meeting you, Anita."

Anita bent down to grab her suitcase and lift it up.” Likewise, Maria. Have a nice day.” She watched Maria continue her way up the stairs as she closed her front door and went inside.

As the evening drew in and Anita continued to unpack, she found herself feeling a little homesick. She decided to make herself some pasta for dinner and put on some music from her record player, which she had brought with her from home. As the music played softly in the background, she sat down to enjoy her meal and take in her new surroundings.

As she ate, Anita couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and familiarity from the music playing on the record player. It reminded her of her dad, who had passed away a few years ago. He had been a huge music lover and had instilled that love in her from a young age.

Even though Anita didn’t want to admit it, one of the reasons she left home was her dad. Everything reminded her of him, even a simple joke someone would say reminded her of when her dad told it to her. She wanted to bring her best friend wit her but she had other plans. Anita knew she couldn’t condition people to match her lifestyle, so she didn’t take it personally.

She placed her plate on the kitchen counter and made her way to the mattress she laid on the floor as a temporary solution until she got some new furniture. As she settled in for the night, Anita opened her laptop to start searching for job opportunities in Paris. She had always dreamed of being a photographer, and she knew that Paris was a big opportunity for her to succeed. She had her own clients she unfortunately had to let go by moving here, so she was officially unemployed.

After going through a list of job postings that require a lot of qualities, disappointment washed over her and she decided to call it a night. She put the laptop shut on the floor and drifted to sleep.

Anita woke up early the next morning to the sounds of the city outside her balcony. She smiled to herself, feeling grateful for the opportunity to live in such a vibrant and exciting place.

After taking a quick shower, Anita decided to go out and explore the city. She had heard so much about the famous Parisian cafes and restaurants, and she couldn't wait to try them out for herself.

She wore some proper clothes for the Paris weather and made sure to bring her camera with her and capture some amazing photos of Paris. She exited her apartment and made her way to the elevator, pressing the button. The door opened revealing a guy coming down from the other top floors in the building. She gave him a small smile and entered the elevator. The guy seemed so attractive, he wore a white shirt and gray sweatpants, carrying a small pouch under his arm. He looked at Anita and smiled.” Hi, you must be new. I haven't seen you here before.” Anita turned to face him and smiled.”Yeah, I moved in yesterday. I’m Anita.” “Nice to meet you Anita, I’m Kylian. I live in the penthouse of the building.”

______________________________________ Let me know if you want to be tagged in the future :)

@tandefeaffe @mywhimsyjournal @melliflulu

[nerdygaymormon]

Meeting with the Renlunds

I met with Elder Kevin Hamilton and he offered to walk me over to Elder Renlund's office for my next appointment as it would help me get through security more easily.

Elder Hamilton greeted the secretary and explained he found me wandering around and helped me find where I was going.😄 Then he said that we became friends when he did a stake conference in Florida and I have a standing invitation to visit every time I'm in Utah.

At that moment, Elder Renlund steps out of his office door and proclaims, "I trump that invitation. He gets to see ME when he's in town." 😁

It was a humorous way to be handed off from the one to the other.

—————————

Elder Renlund asked if I was in town for that conference in Provo (the Gather Conference)? Y'all, I was impressed that he knew about it! Great credit to the conference organizers!

—————————

I reminded the Renlunds that the last time I visited, they gave me a book they co-wrote. When I saw it was about the Melchizedek Priesthood, I was like "Go Ruth!" There's no reason a woman shouldn't write about the priesthood.

This time I brought them a gift, a copy of a book which contains a chapter I wrote.

Me: I'm a little nervous giving it to you because I wrote it from my viewpoint. I was very honest and that means not everything matches the Church's view. Some things about church are hard for me.

Dale: We will read this.

Me: Now I'm even more nervous!

Ruth: Don't be nervous. You shouldn't be nervous about telling the truth.

Dale: They're your thoughts and perspectives.

Ruth: Others have done the same, why not you?

Whew, I felt much better after that exchange.

I also shared that writing my chapter led me to realize I may have an eating disorder, and how that led to an official diagnosis and now I'm in therapy. I'm on a journey to better mental and physical health. They were genuinely interested in this development and kind in their support.

—————————

Elder Renlund mentioned that when he presides over a meeting and opens things up for questions, it's not unusual for LGBTQ topics to come up. As we spoke, the Pride flag got mentioned.

I shared a conversation I had with my friend who recently retired from a 20-year career with the U.S. military. My friend doesn't wear a US flag pin at church. He is there for religion, not patriotism. Anyone who wants to know if he is patriotic should look at his life. Plus, America does some things that aren't compatible with what Jesus taught. My friend wants to keep the two separate.

When it comes to the Pride flag, I feel a little different. No one questions whether Americans are welcome at church. We don't have a history of harsh teachings against Americans. We need to be intentional in signaling that we welcome LGBTQ+ people.

The Pride flag represents queer people and it goes where they go, which means it is there when people fight for Civil Rights or run their business, and however they live their life. This causes some to see the flag as representing things they don't like because some queer people make choices they don't agree with. I think when the average member displays the Pride flag, they are indicating that queer people are welcome and wanted, that they are a safe person to talk with. But for a leader, some will see his wearing the flag as endorsing all the things people associate with it.

Elder Renlund responded that it's like Black Lives Matter. Of course Black lives matter, but the political movement that grew up around that phrase can be seen by some as controversial, so if a leader displays a Black Lives Matter flag people may question or assume he supports all of it.

He went on to say that he appreciates my friend's position because when they lived in South Africa, a friend of his said, "We South Africans don't like Americans telling us what to do." What registered with Elder Renlund is if what his friend sees is an American, then he needs to change so what his friend sees is a disciple of Christ.

—————————

Elder Renlund asked what else is going on in my life and I shared that I'm now on the Affirmation Board of Directors. It's interesting because I don't seek to do things in the LDS/LGBTQ space, but the Lord provides opportunities and I accept them.

His response was, "You can help others and that's what I think God wants you to do."

—————————

They asked how my parents are doing and I mentioned my mom's calling in her ward.

"Your mom is the Primary chorister?" Elder Renlund shared that he is the chair of the committee putting together the new hymnal. "I think the war in heaven started over a new hymnal. Everybody has an opinion." 🤣

—————————

Ruth and I spoke about a person we're both related to. It's a man who was her uncle, and he was married to my grandma and they had 2 children together. He died in World War II and my grandma remarried and had 2 more children.

My grandmother was sealed to her first husband but spent the bulk of her life with her second husband. When my granddad passed away, he was also sealed to his wife, she is sealed to two husbands.

Elder Renlund said that in life there is an asymmetry, men can be sealed to multiple women but women are limited to being sealed to only one man. However in death, all are equal, everyone can be sealed to all those they were ever married to.

This means we don't have a clear understanding of what it's like in Heaven. Since all three of these people are sealed to each other, and they have promises made to them, no blessing will be denied to them. We don't know how that works, but we are convinced of the promises and see them afar off.

Elder Renlund went on to say those who have "LGBTQ issues" and try to be faithful are heroes and the Lord really will bless them.

I brought up that single people face the same questions about their situation as queer people.

His response was of all those who are single and members of the Church, the majority are not active. He doesn't think God is going to harshly judge them. But he thinks God holds real blessings in store for those who try to be faithful. I thought that was interesting, "try" is enough to qualify.

Elder Renlund says there will be a sorting and figuring out who is sealed to whom, but we don't believe anyone will be forced. All wounds will be healed and injustices made whole, and no blessings withheld from the righteous.

—————————

We had met for nearly an hour and needed to wrap up. Elder Renlund proposed, "Let's get a photo." Sister Renlund commented, "I just came from the hair dresser so this works out well." 😂

As we walked out of the office, Sister Renlund explained that he has to go practice his conference talk using the teleprompter so there isn't much wiggle room for extending our visit. She also joked that you'd think these men would have the use of the teleprompter mastered, but they have to practice before every General Conference. 😆

—————————

It was generous of them to take an hour out of their day to spend it in conversation with me

[didierleclair]

Maryse Condé, a great lady is gone

The work of the writer Maryse Condé, who died on April 2, 2024, at the age of 90, is colossal. I will say a few words about it. This is the journey of a free black woman.

She was born in Guadeloupe and her name was Marise Liliane Appoline Boucolon. She studied in France, lived in Guinea, Ghana and Senegal. She will end her career in the United States as professor at Colombia University.

I discovered her writings with Ségou (1984). It is a two-volume saga about the decline of the Bambara kingdom of Ségou 200 years ago. This kingdom includes present-day Mali. The story ends with the arrival of French colonizers at the end of the 19th century. We follow the destiny of four Traoré brothers. The two volumes are well written, and the ambitious work keeps its promises. There are multiple intrigues and extraordinary destinies against the backdrop of the slavery trade which left its mark on Africa and sent millions of Africans to the four corners of the world.

Maryse Condé has published around thirty novels, plays and essays in her long career. The author was prolific and won numerous prestigious literary awards for her work.

I have not read all of her work, but I had great respect for her because of her ability to attack the faults of the former colonists as well as those of patriarchal, chauvinistic and authoritarian black men.

“Moi, Tituba sorcière” (1986) is another novel that I liked. This is a character inspired by a woman who existed. Tituba, a young slave of the Puritan pastor Samuel Parris, was accused of being one of the Salem witches in 1692 during a trial. It is a story rich in twists and turns that the great writer offers us, and we witness the persecution of Tituba. Beyond the irrational reaction of village women to a black woman healer, there is Tituba the slave who has a memorable destiny. Maryse Condé thus rehabilitates Tituba, whom American writers had thrown into oblivion.

Another beautiful work is “Traversée de la Mangrove” (1989). In this story that happens in one night, people come together to talk about a dead man in Guadeloupe that everyone thinks they know but that no one really knows. At the heart of this work is the question of the identity of the West Indians and even of the Africans in general.

In addition, I will say a word about “En attendant la montée des eaux” (2010). This work is about the destiny of black men. These are characters in search of a peaceful path, after exile, persecution and wandering. It is an ode to masculine friendship.

Apart from the novels, her plays were also very successful. 

To understand her work, we must follow the upheavals of the black diaspora. She drops stones in her path, nuggets of gold that give a multiple image of what it means to be Black. For Maryse Condé, being from the diaspora or from Africa at 21It is century does not mean the same challenges in the world. That said, she wants to make her work a link between those descended from slaves and those coming directly from the black continent. After all, mainly the West has disrupted the modern history of these Blacks.

For her, negritude was a chimerical movement, which claimed that all black people looked the same. The writer shows throughout her stories that we must move away from stereotypical concepts of what it means to be part of the black community.

For Maryse Condé, Traoré did not dream like Ovid. Tituba did not have the same conception of the world as Ayodélé. Her characters, sometimes contemporary or ancient, remain inhabited by their own dreams and above all, they each face the challenges of life in their own way.

In her interviews, Maryse Condé always got to the point.

“At the beginning, I was a disciple of Aimé Césaire. I believed in Negritude. To me, all black people of all “races” were my brothers and sisters. Then I realized that African-Americans did not accept me. Despite my black skin, I came from elsewhere; I had other references, another story. »

It is a strong, uncompromising statement. However, she kept her ex-husband's last name (Condé) because she loved Africa. She made the difference between having been hurt by Africans and being African at heart: “The pride of being black, the pride of being a woman, the pride of being what I am, it was Africa that brought it to me. »

This is not a contradiction. Maryse Condé brings this subtlety to understand the Black world. She drew on her experience and allowed herself to give essential nuances to the spirit of identity of black people. Not to divide them but to prepare them for a better understanding between them and above all to allow them to reconcile over unintentional injuries.

A great lady is gone.

Didier Leclair, writer

[destinyc1020]

Love your opinion on Tomdaya. Some blogs or fans get too invested in their whereabouts or the ins and outs of their relationship like that was the end goal for us fans, lol. I'm happy they are together, but I'm also happy we don't know much of it cause that means it's a real as it can be for them. Also, life is so unpredictable. Its always good to detach as much as you can the moment you feel emotionally strong about them or their career choices or life. Especially for Tom cause so many of his fans do so much worrying. They act like they're on his payroll.

Even with Timothee and Kylie, some fans need to understand your fans don't share the same morals as you, and dating life is never going to affect his movies. You can always rewatch.

Exactly Anon!

You and I are like this 》●《

It's great to enjoy them being together and loving their love, but at some point, you have to detach and just let life run its course naturally.

I'm just here for the journey. I don't put too much stock into anyone else's relationship honestly. I don't have to know where people are 24/7... To me, letting go has made me a much more easygoing fan lol 😆

Ever since July 2nd, 2021, I've learned to let go and let life... life!! 🧘🏽‍♀️ Whatever is going to happen is going to happen. 🤷🏾‍♀️ I have far less anxiety and investment now on what strangers decide to do in their relationships and romantic lives. It's a great place to be for me. 😊

I don't mind if other fans want to track TZ's every move all the time.... that's perfectly fine with me. People are free to do whatever they want? 🤷🏾‍♀️ Whatever makes you happy! 😅 But for me, I'm just not needing to know where anyone is (not even my family lol 😆) every waking moment lol.

I also have let go of needing Tom's (or ANY actor I'm a fan of tbh) career to look a certain way, or to be a certain thing. I keep saying that as long as Tom (or insert any actor name here) is personally feeling happy and fulfilled in his career, then I'm happy for him, and that's all I ever want for him or any actor that I'm a fan of. 🥰

I think that putting strict stipulations and guidelines on ANY actor and his or her work/career is kind of stifling and a bit controlling tbh. 🥴 Let people do whatever makes them happy! If taking a break makes an actor happy, then so be it!

I think fans would be much happier (and less worried all the time) tbh if they just learned to just let go and not be too overly invested in the outcome of the lives of strangers. Jmho. 🤷🏾‍♀️

Maybe this should have been a "Confession Sunday" post lol, but ooh well.... 😅

[swords-of-a-soilder]

Just Shapes

I'm just venting here, I'm not asking for advice if anything the most I'd want is a supportive word or two.

A random day in 2022 I was playing the Sims on my mother's laptop, I had a lot of mods of course, a few risky ones in including.

I had a queer couple, that I loved playing with, but suddenly whenever they got intinment, they had a moodlit in which they express not being intersed in each other.

It felt like my entire world had fell apart, I was in frantic tears trying to fix. I would constantly jump back and forth from create a sim trying to figure out what mod was breaking their relationship.

I eventually fixed it, but once I did, once I looked back at these sims again, they became shapes, pixels on a screen they weren't real they were never real.

I close that save, then never opened it again.

Perphas I'm parasocial in what I'm about to say, but the reality is we're all parasocial it's why certain careers exist. streamers depend on the viewer being parasocial, our enjoyment is what pay them.

Its just some people take things too far, and it gives parasocial behaviors a bad name, I knew the qsmp characters were different from their actors(streamers) that played them.

I'm not the type of person who thought Philza minecraft was my best friend but q!Philza was someone else entirely. Someone I felt close to, someone who's journey I felt apart of; Those eggs were just as much my kids as his own, I felt like a resident.

With Forever's removal and q!forever with him I became painful awear of what I was watching.

The series that keep me company when I quit my abusive job and was seeking new ones, The series that made me forget the pain of being hit by a car, the series that made me forget the Sexual abuse I expressed at my newer job that I shortly quit after.

The pain I felt over and over non stop, the continuous cycle of trauma I was able to process slowly without feeling alone. Living in that tiny space, with nothing to eat but determine not to go back to my abuser, at least with them I wasn't alone.

Perhaps I'm parasocial for feeling like a resident, perhaps I'm parasocial for loving Chayanne and Tallulah like my own children, perhaps I was parasocial for cheering for my team in Purgatory.

But it meant so much more to me than just a Minecraft roleplay server, it was my entire life. And now it's just shapes, pixels and shapes on a screen.

I think back to Qsmp 2023 and it's there, the joy, this overall sense of Happiness these people I know and care about, I made a Tumblr account just to see more art of them, I engaged in headcannons, joined discord servers with other residents we were all residents.

Whether you were a crow that sat top q!Philza's head, the voices in q!Fit's head; your art sat in the museum, your head canon's adopted into canon and your jokes acknowledged.

We were residents, without ever stepping foot on that island....

Now Tumblr still recommends me clip, There are some people I forgot to unfollow or choice not to. They show me the new Island and new creators, they tell me about the new mods and new characters.

They show my children, they show me my friend q!Philza, they show me all these things I love but..

It's Just Shapes...

Now in it's current existence it's just shapes, pixel on a screen actors In a play, I see nothing but the actors behind it, nothing but improvised roleplay, nothing but a video game.

Shapes.. and it drives me insane that some people don't understand that, and it comes with the neurodiversity I Know. no one ever talks about how painful hyperfixation death truly is.

Its made worst by seeing how the fandom, the other residents have started turning on one another. Residents bite and growl at me like I'm a villain came to kill them, I was one of you!

It wasn't my choice but it's one I'm glad for, seeing how cruel We've became. It isn't even the same island anymore, they left me behind on the old one.

And that's fine, the new one is just a pixilated mess to me.

[yezzyyae]

I watched the trailer for season 3 “The Bear” about 10x already and everytime I get goosebumps and I start to shake 🫨😩 this show is soo special to me and I am so emotionally invested in these characters’ lives! I don’t want Carmy to be hurt ever in his life because he deserves love & peace. Being the baby in his family he seen a lot & that made him run before so if Carmy is cornered he will run. I think he will leave “The Bear” to Sydney & go back to Copenhagen to refocus on his passion for cooking. That’s how season 3 will end & I am preparing myself for that 🥺.

But if you are an adult, you will not be hard on Carmy & think that Sydney is a savior. Carmy never had friends, family, a love life, restaurant, & career at the same time. So last season I was so mad reading & seeing people act like Carmy is this evil man. Carmy had no one while he was on his journey to being a CDC at the best restaurant in the world so he doesn’t & still don’t know how to balance everything. Other adults will know this that it is not easy to balance family, friends, work life, & a love life while having healthy mental health. So people need to have some slack for Carmy & realize Sydney is not the savior & she is a shitty friend to me.

CARMY & SYDNEY IS NOT A ROMANTIC COUPLE & DOES NOT HAVE SEXUAL CHEMISTRY! THEY ARE PLATONIC FRIENDS WHO NEEDS TO FIND A BALANCE BECAUSE THEY WORK TOGETHER & JUST BECAUSE YOU ARGUE WITH SOMEONE DOES NOT MEAN YALL SHOULD BE FUCKING IN THE BACK ROOM!!

Please stop voicing yall opinions on Carmy & Sydney as facts! It’s a difference the facts are laid out in front of yall but yall keep voicing these opinions & clearly ignoring the facts & it’s so scary cause I can only imagine how yall home life look like!

[thecameronchronicles]

Polaroids

TW: Smut. Language. 

SUMMARY: Your latest photoshoot makes you prove to your boyfriend that you are all he needs…

WORD COUNT: 1600

*Requested*

Polaroids

You lived your life for the camera whether you liked it or not. If not for your occupation as a model, than for the fact you were his girlfriend, paparazzi following you like gnats whenever you’d journey out anywhere. And by now, you had become accustomed to it, but Drew had not…

“Just a few more and we’ll do an outfit change.” Your aunt explained behind her expensive lens, another ‘perk’ of the job having her as your lead photographer, as Drew watched from the side in awe. You knew exactly how to pose your body for the aesthetic that they were in search of. Whether it was a catalog model or a runway show, you would excel in all you did-just as Drew did with his own job. It was one of the reasons you two were so inseparable, the same ambitious drive. 

“I’m just going to adjust you here…” A secondary photographer began to direct you, touching you in a way that was uncommon by everyday standards, but somewhat usual in order to get the right picture. But Drew wasn’t having any of it-not for a second. From the second someone’s hands-who weren't his, were on you, his jaw was clenched and his eyes were narrowed. It was something your Aunt saw, and so she moved over towards him. 

“Doesn’t she look stunning?”

“As always.” He responded back, the comment making your heart flutter before you were adjusted again. Only this time in a way that was a bit more forceful, making Drew speak on your behalf as he knew you wanted to keep things professional. Not wishing to cause an awkward work session, your Aunt would address her assistant away just as Drew would nudge him as he passed as if to do this as some sort of warning. 

By the time the next photographer came in, you had switched outfits to one that made his eyes widen and to mumble something lustful that Drew only caught the tail end of. But the simple utterance of ‘get to fuck these models, I love my job’ was enough to have him tightening his fists until his knuckles flashed white. 

“Jesus Christ…” Your aunt uttered before Drew moved behind the camera. 

“Do you mind?” He offered as she threw her hands up in surrender, mostly out of humor due to how much she loved you and Drew, before he began to angle his camera and direct you as if he’d been doing this your entire career. 

“So fucking beautiful-” He quickly flashed a look of apology to yoru aunt, “Sorry…” But she would only smile, his blush fading as he’d look back at you and bite his bottom lip in focus. 

“Over your shoulder, baby…” And you would offer this, giving him the perfect canvas for his snapshot, the camera capturing you in perfection. 

“Make love to the camera, sweetheart.” He teased as you rolled your eyes before he shot a wicked glance of victory to the other gluttonous photographers. 

“MY camera.” This double meaning was not lost on anyone as you obeyed, the smile widening once noticing how protective he was of you. And this would continue through the duration of your session. Designer clothes adorning your frame and your adorning boyfriend all too eager to photograph you in them. By the time you had finished and gotten all of the photos, the day had begun to wear on you both. 

“I know it’s just a cross I have to bear for my girlfriend being so beautiful, but dammit, babe, can you tone it down a bit?” 

“What?” You chuckled. 

“Everybody wants you and it’s tiring always fighting ‘em all off…” You smirked. 

“Maybe you should pick a girl with a different profession than…people are gonna look at me, Drew…” His eyes luxuriated in your figure as he nodded. 

“Maybe you’re right…someone less-” Before he could speak, you pushed playfully against his shoulder as he was quick to take your waist between his hands. 

“Are you really that jealous?” He shrugged, a look of sadness coming across his expression before he lifted those puppy dog eyes slowly up to you as the most sinful of ideas suddenly ran across your mind. 

“Come with me…okay?” He nodded as you led him into the bedroom, tearing through the closet, before pulling out an old Poalroid camera that had been part of his collection since you’d known him. 

“Four left…better make ‘em count…” You explained as you pulled your jacket from your shoulders, revealing only the bra beneath as you would then tease the straps. 

“What are you up to?”

“Proving to you that even if I’m on billboards or magazines…they only get to see so much…” You moved closer to him, teasing his lips, but leaving before committing. “But YOU get to have me completely…exposed…” To this, you pulled down the straps and stood bare before him, stepping out of your panties as his eyes took in your figure completely. 

“God…”

“How do you want me?” To this he moved behind you, hands sliding up your body, teasing your thighs and brushign over your sex, before brushing your hair away from your shoulder and applying a soft line drawn of his bottom lip. Once this was set, he pulled you to him with a soft kiss to your lips, quickly turning passionate, before withdrawing and leaving you breathless. 

“On the bed. All fours. Look back at me.” You nodded, obeying him perfectly before he left a thick red welt in the shape of his hand on your cheek, a gasp having sounded at the same moment the picture was taken. Flicking it between his pinch to make it develop, he would groan at the sight of his hand having left that imprint, now on camera. 

“Three…hmm..” He attempted to think of what he wanted next before you suddenly took hold of the camera. 

“Hey-”

“Shirt off. It’s only fair.” He scoffed before ultimately agreeing as you drew sharp lines with your nails as he winced. Once the red lines had formed, you would take a photograph of his smirk just within frame, before he took it again, but only to push it out of the way as he wrapped you around him. 

“God, you’re so perfect…” You smirked and shrugged as he kissed into your neck. 

“I know.” You teased before he shook his head, his eyes fixating onto you for a moment before hiking you up against him.

“I’ve wanted to do this all fucking day, baby…”

“Then do it…show me…” You challenged as he was quick to root up into you, his motions certainly validating his words as he would bring you to your cusp rather quickly, followed by his own, only to stop just prior to that release. 

“Why did you-”

“Beg for it…I wanna know I’m the only one who gets to hear that…”

“Please Drew…Please make me come-”

“Good girl…” He bit his bottom lip before continuing his motions, sweeping you onto your back and flipping your legs together as you were kept mainly on your side, his hand keeping a grip to your shoulder so he was able to see your breasts and their glory. 

“You gonna come for me? Hmm?”

“Yes…” You groaned, the pleasure too close to deny as he nodded. 

“Good…Good girl…And you’re gonna take me too, right? Take care of me like you always do?”

“DREW!” You gasped as his fingers came to your clit, rubbing those finalizing circles to bring you to that edge as you would nod to him. 

“Oh fuck…” He bowed his head, clenching his jaw, before you received those absolute thrusts of pleasure that allowed you that release you’d been in need of. And yet, he wasn’t done. Instead, he took hold of the camera and parted your legs, taking a photograph of how he looked seeping out of you. 

“Just for me…” You moaned at just how sexy that had been, his eyes still heavy with lust and chest continuing to rise and fall in the need to return to a steady breath, all while you would then move to the edge of the bed. 

“I want you to take this one for me…okay?”

“Anything, baby…”

You licked your lips, moving onto your knees and taking him into your mouth, sucking both of your releases off in unison. 

“And I want you to know,” You spoke between thrusts allowed to the back of your throat, continuing until your point would be made, “That YOU get me like this. Only you, Drew…And you have no reason….to question that…ever…”

“I’m gonna come again-I swear to God, FUCK!” You nodded. 

“I want you to take the picture when you do…A line of spit connecting us…as I’m looking up at you like you love…”

“Baby-”

“Give it to me…mmm hmm…mmm…” You moaned against him, driving him to that second release as he prepared the camera following his trembling. 

“So beautiful…” He groaned as the picture was taken before you’d take him into your mouth one last time to consume him completely as he flexed against you. 

“So now anytime you wonder…you have proof…” You spoke, still breathless, as he wrapped his hand through your hair and pulled you back so he could tower over you, his lips tracing yours as you spoke, “That it’s all for you.” He nodded. 

“I think I’ll forever be obsessed with those…” He explained while looking at the pictures, “Looks like we need to get more film…”

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @my-baexht-ls @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae

[nahalism]

for the past two days now, i have been feeling slightly off my normal frequency which manifested physically. i put a lot of pressure on myself to do better and get things right. just because i feel things are moving slow for me. i see people my age owning a car, being married, having children or in a relationship and i’m none of that yet. my career isn’t stable and i look after myself (all bills on me). it’s exhausting and almost embarrassing that i can’t save enough to cater for some of my needs. i have a degree and i’ve been applying for the right jobs, yet, nothing. i have a job. thankfully but the pay is just not enough.

how do you get out of a funk like this? how do you find peace with self when your life feels stagnant?

hey <3 something i read on here once that saved me was, 'your effort will not betray you'. it meant two things to me at the time. 1) if i stay true to my path & keep up the hard work, i will inevitably reap what i have sowed, (a comfort) 2) that what i reap is in direct relation to what i have worked toward (room for correction). it was a correction because i realised i needed to do more of what i wanted to see in my life, not more of what i thought it took to be the the kind of person who i imagined would have those things. (example) sometimes, we want to be in a relationship, so we work harder at work. the two dont tally, but we assume someone financially stable makes a good partner, so blindly double down on the wrong course of action. the reality is, someone financially stable, is someone financially stable. being a good partner is a different skillset with its own and separate requirements. as such, the best way to prepare for having a thing, is to do that thing. — peace comes from clarity. so your first step is to be clear on what is it YOU want (not where it is you think you should be). if your comparing, you're looking toward other people to gauge where you at, with no real conception of what the reality they face entails, which is dangerous, shortsighted and misleading. each of us has different start and finish points. the individual nature of the journeys were on also means we have different crosses to bare. if your going to compare another persons good, to your fully fleshed reality, you will always come up short. so, its best not to compare— but if you are going to do it, be sure to compare both the good and the bad. and(!!) be sure to remember that the same way the grass is greener for you elsewhere, is the same way your grass looks greener to someone else. if your now is not enough for you, more will only ever be more, not better. appreciate what you have today. make it part of your new beginning. (what you dont use, you lose). second, prioritise the things you want in order of priority, not preference. having one goal at a time helps reduce burn out and increases focus, which reduces the time span spent working on the goal. if you want to work on your finances and your career security, make it your sole focus for the next year. that means forget about cars, kids, marriage, and anything outside of your prioritised goal, for now. those other things will find you, but they need to take their proper order of priority, which means unless they seek you out and add to your outlined goal, your in no position to acquire them right now. — side note* realise, that your current independence is a freedom, not a burden. the same you that exists today, with kids and a car and a marriage, would have way more responsibility (so x10 the pressure to make things work with about 90% less of the time & flexibility to do so). use that current freedom to your advantage. an informed and intentional purchase, or marriage, or family, is so much better than one acquired as a goal post. don't be the person who wants something just to have it, be the kind of person who goes after things they can maintain. it will make the switch from independence to interdependence less prone to codependence <3

(now.. lol, for the question you actually asked), my first steps to get out of a funk are to clean the house top down, wash bedsheets, clothes & remake the bed. i order or reorder my space to order my mind. then i light candles or incense to set ambiance and to set intention. i shower. make tea and eat (also intentionally). maybe do my hair or something to my appearance that makes me feel more polished since i usually work in a bonnet and house clothes. then i journal or write, and let how im feeling out till i get to the root of why im feeling it (the outlet may be different for you, but whatever it is, the outlet should allow for you to be present with your thoughts and emotions, reflect on them, and process them). usually, doing house work clears some of the mental chatter so im ready to write/purge it out once im done. if i need more, or am just not ready to go back to work, i work out (skip/yoga, something to root me in my body), or i take a walk in nature. if i need something more cerebral than active, i look over my past work to get perspective. (usually our hard work is paying off, but as our skill level increases so do our expectations for what we should be producing. sometimes you just need a reminder of how far you've come in order to see the value of continuing forward). * also dont forget to put away the washing once it dries to get the full *house is clean* effect.

reading this back, i forgot to tell you — you have not been left behind by life. its not too late to share in all the things you might feel are rushing by you. open your heart to what your journey looks like, and not societies clock. you don't need me or my advice. you have all the answers within you, (and the capability to bring them to fruition!) focus on what will make you truly satisfied in this moment. perhaps you already have it. but regardless of if you do or don't, you should be proud of having brought yourself this far!! keep working hard, keep pushing yourself, but push with love & the knowledge that your capable and want to see your capabilities, not as your own bully, or a critic who thinks more is never enough. trust that your effort will not betray you, and that it will lead you to life experiences that make great stories. hindsight is for laughter, not regret. *big hug*