#maybe i just need to sit myself down and set a timer for me to try and write smth

[a-is-away]

eight step guide on how to study (as a third year pre-med student with ADHD and a 4.0)

welcome to my step by step guide on how to study. i have a love-hate relationship with studying, but this is what works to get me going. getting started is the hardest part, i promise.

step one: prep your space. get a glass of water or coffee or energy drink and make sure you have everything you need out and ready. throw your phone across the room or just put it out of sight. you will forget that other fun things exist (like tik tok) if you cannot see it. out of sight, out of mind.

step two: sit at your desk (or table or a general designated study space with a chair). studying in bed never works like you think it will and studying on the floor (while enriching) will do nothing but hurt your back from hunching over. sitting at your desk makes you feel much more productive (most of my study sessions start by just forcing myself to sit in my chair).

step three: put some music or ambience on. if i need to use my brain more i'll opt for some fantasy-themed forest ambience or sci-fi droning sounds. your brain is tricked into thinking that you're having fun if music is on, but plot twist! you're actually being productive. music i turn to is soft piano, video game soundtracks (genshin, undertale, minecraft, stardew valley) or lofi, but your mileage may vary. DO NOT do music with words unless you want to be distracted.

step four: make a list of need-to-dos and rank them based on priority and time. start by doing an activity that will take a short amount of time. by completing a short to-do, it builds the motivation to keep going.

step five: start a study timer. i bought a physical study timer that is so satisfying to wind and set and watch the time tick by, but a desktop one works just fine. set your timer based on how much energy you have. some days i go for 60 minutes, some days i do 25, it all just depends. as a study session goes on, it's normal for your amount of energy to go down. i may do 60-45-30-20 then take a long break. know thyself and thine needs!

step six: lock in. do not think about what you are doing, simply do it. do it before your brain has the chance to convince you it doesn't like what you're doing.

step seven: take regular, controlled, and useful breaks. do not start an activity on your break that will break your flow. walk around, stretch, check your phone, refill your drink, have a snack. reward yourself! you're doing great, i promise.

step eight: long break. do something that will rest your mind. maybe watch youtube, eat a meal, play a video game, read a few chapters of a book. be proud of the work you've accomplished.

i hope this helps! happy studying!

[heartbreakgrill]

sleepy-head; pedro pascal.

a/n: fluffy falling asleep on set idk, not edited, no warnings. enjoy sweet friends

i stood lopsidedly- left knee bent, hand propped on my waist, and backpack slouched off my shoulder. my head hung low, eyes boring a deep hole into the dirty ground. i fluttered my lashes, in a lane attempt to keep them wide open. with a slight sway to the side, i worried i was going to completely pass out, right then and there.

then, the director yelled out a sharp, clear, "cut!"

i flinched, back straightening like the edge of a knife. i swear i heard something crack in my bones. i tugged the backpack up my shoulder and glanced around me. i met bella's eyes and they made a face, "you alright?"

i shook my head lightly, awakening my face, "tired." i reached an arm into the sky and stretched.

bella approached me, letting their own backpack slide down their shoulder and into their hand. "dude, me, too. i'm ready for today to be over."

"unfortunately," we fell into step off set, "we have a few more hours to go."

"fortunately," they added, mocking my tone, "we have exactly one hour until we have to be back right here. i am going to stuff my face with craft services."

bella's steps grew quicker as they started to bee-line for the food table. "wanna come?" bella offered.

i waved her off, "if i eat anything, i'm going to pass out."

they snorted, "go find a hole to take a nap in."

i managed a small chuckle at the response. maybe that was actually a really good idea. i set my book bag on the prop table; my trailer was a fifteen minute golf-cart ride from here. if i hopped on one right now, i have 30 minutes before i needed to get back on set. not to mention the fact that i needed to be back even earlier for hair and makeup touch ups, and notes from the director. that left maybe fifteen minutes for a nap.

but if i curled up in a corner somewhere, i'd have a good 40 minutes.

i shrugged off my jacket, peering around the set. i met eyes with people every now and again, offered sleep-ridden smiles in their direction. eventually, i settled on the couch in the corner of the room, parallel to a few chairs. it was a small resting place meant for guests, cast and crew members. i headed towards it with a heavy sigh. my feet hurt so bad.

as i approached, i opened my phone up and set a timer for thirty minutes. just in case. i plopped down onto the couch, slipped off my costume combat boots, and curled up in a ball. with my jacket lain across my body, my eyes shut as soon as my head hit the arm rest.

the noises slowly faded from my hearing, becoming muted murmurs in my distant, fuzzy memory. it was one of those weird naps, where i wasn't really asleep, but i definitely was not conscious. i felt my breathing even, a comfortable, monotonous rhythm circulating my system.

i don't know how long passed, but i jutted awake with a shocking pop of open eyes. my shoulders flinched a bit, and i sucked in a breath. i rubbed at my eyes gently, trying not to disturb the makeup there, and glanced around me.

bella had joined me on the couch, sitting at my feet with a bag of chips in their clutches. they were humming to themselves, watching tiktok's on their phone. after registering her presence, i looked ahead, where pedro was sitting, also eating a bag of chips and watching videos on his phone.

i shuffled a bit, lifting myself onto my seat, leg still curled up, beneath me. bella's snapped towards me, "good morning, sunshine. did you have a nice sleep?"

i rubbed my cheeks with either palms, then rested my head in my hands. "oh, god. that felt good, actually." lies.

bella gave me a thumbs up before going back to their phone. they were a human of few words. a silly, adorable human.

i glanced forward again and met pedro's eyes. his attention was lifted from his phone to me, now. he offered a sweet smile. "you doing okay?"

i shrugged, head pounding with exhaustion and restless napping. "just really tired."

my eyes flickered to my left as bella stood, engrossed in technology, and walked off to who knows where. i looked back to pedro.

he jutted his bottom lip slightly, a sympathetic expression. "i'm sorry," he glanced back at his phone, "you've still got thirty five minutes until we've gotta get back. why don't you lay down again?"

"it's okay," i shut the alarm off on my phone. "i'll be fine. this couch isn't comfortable, anyways."

pedro stood slowly, crossing the distance between us, and sat beside me. "no, you're right. this shit sucks," he laughed lamely.

i giggled at his words, "told you so."

pedro hesitated for a moment, glancing around at the furniture. then, he looked down at his lap. pedro set his chips and phone down beside him, shrugged off his jacket, and balled it up in his lap.

"here," he waved lazily, "lay your head down."

i eyed the make-shift pillow. was that going to be weird? i was so tired, i couldn't care less about nicety rules with my coworkers.

i smiled sleepily at him, lowering my head into his lap, "thank you," i murmured.

he rested his right arm across the back of the couch, and balanced his phone on the arm rest, going back to whatever he was doing. "no worries, sugar. i'll wake you when it's time."

i was beyond tired- but i didn't not notice the little butterfly wing that fluttered in my stomach when he called me that.

i passed out this time, though, completely snoozing away in dream-land, until i felt a strong hand clasp my shoulder and gently shake. his touch was warm, seeping through my costume and onto my skin like the gentle lick of a flame. pedro's voice spoke carefully close to my ear, "y/n? hermosa? they're calling us back to set."

i breathed deeply, eyes fluttering open. the first thing i saw were a pair of deep, dark chocolate eyes, shining golden under some of the set lights. my lips curled into a lazy smile, involuntarily. i sat up, feeling a hand softly on my back, supporting me.

"thanks for that," i stretched. "it helped a lot."

pedro's hands dropped into his lap, "i'm really glad." he went to say something else, but one of the makeup artists was approaching us, his large makeup bin in tow.

"y/n, i don't know what you did, but i need to fix that," sebastian waved a hand around my face with a disgusted look.

pedro and i shared a laugh. "i'm sorry, seb. thanks again, pedro."

he nodded, and waved as i got up and followed sebastian to a chair and vanity set up. i settled into the seat, eyes opened a little wider from the rest i'd gotten. as sebastian went to work on my face, my eyes followed pedro's reflection in the mirror. he stood from the couch, brushed his hands off on his pants, like they were sweaty or something. he mumbled something to himself, took a deep breath, and started his way towards set.

i scoffed out a short laugh. sebastian drew his hand back, brows furrowed, "what?"

i shook my head, "nothing."

pedro was kinda hot.

—

two weeks later.

i hugged my legs to my chest, apple of my cheek rested upon the crevice of my knee. a soft scratching noise emitted from the stick that i was dragging across the ground. i followed it in a loop with my eyes until i finished the little stick figure i was drawing.

bella's phone volume lifting snapped me out of my daze. i looked to them, watched them laugh at some video.

"y/n!" they stepped towards me, flipping their phone screen to face me, "we have to do this."

i watched the dance video she showed me, and groaned when it ended. "noooooo," i shoved my forehead against my knees. "i can't dance. you know this."

bella shrugged me off, "i don't care. we're doing it later."

"fine," i gave in. it didn't take much to sway my opinion. the videos bella always made me do with them were fun. i looked forward to the days she'd ask me to make them.

she was my little friend.

pedro interjected, "what is it?"

bella showed him, "dance video were gonna make. i'd invite you, peepaw, but i think you'd break a hip."

i snorted, covering my grinning mouth with my hand. pedro glared at me, playfully flipping both of us off. "whatever. i didn't wanna be a part of it anyways."

my eyes lingered as on his hand as it dropped to his side. his palms were ginormous, fingers long and slender. pedro wasn't excessively fit, but there were still veins snaking beneath his skin.

bella cleared their throat, kicking my shoe gently. "hello? earth to y/n?"

my glazed eyes shut, and i shook my head of the moment. "what? sorry?"

"nevermind. it doesn't matter. are you that tired?" bella plopped down onto the step beside me.

i rubbed my eye slightly, a clear sign that i was exhausted. maybe that's why my mind kept wandering... i nodded in confirmation to bella's question.

pedro sat criss-cross in front of us. he shrugged off his backpack and jacket. "it's been a long week. but we're almost done, honey. just hang in there."

i smiled kindly at his encouragement. "yeah, then two days off, right? i'm so looking forward to that."

pedro and bella nodded. my latter co-star unlocked their phone again, "me, too."they were over the conversation. person of few words, like i said.

pedro glanced at them as their phone volume rang through the beat of silence. he met my eyes and rolled his playfully. i giggled.

pedro leaned back on his palms, head dipping back as he admired the ceiling of the set room we were in. a comfortable silence succumbed us.

i shoved my head into my knees again, letting my eyes fall shut. my breathing became automatic as i entered a dismal state of being.

after a few moments, i felt a hand wrap it's fingers around my wrist. pedro squeezed, tugging my arm from the hold around my legs. i lifted my head, meeting his very closely countered gaze. he was on his knees before me. "yeah?"

pedro pointed beside me, where his jacket was wrapped around his book bag in a faux-pillowed manner. "lay your head down, sugar."

my chest inflated, a rush of heat kissing my cheeks. "o-okay. thanks."

pedro let go of my wrist as i turned, curling into a ball on my side. his backpack felt comfortable beneath my head. i passed out quickly. i woke up, probably fifteen minutes later, to a set of voices sharing a muted conversation, short whispers in the dim light.

"dude, you look so creepy," bella hissed.

pedro huffed out a reply, "shut up."

bella quickly countered with, "you're very openly staring a hole into her face! how can i not comment on that?"

i heard a scuffle as pedro probably adjusted his seating. "i can't help. she's very pretty."

bella awed, quite loudly. pedro shushed her quickly. "that's so cute. wait- do you have, like, a thing for her? wait, you do! oh, my god-"

"i'm walking away now," another shuffle as pedro stood. "forget this ever happened."

"pedro, no! come back!" bella stood, too, following after him.

my eyes slowly opened, a humiliatingly ginormous grin on my mouth. i covered my face with my hands. i was blushing.

okay, yeah there was something there.

–

two weeks later.

i groaned loudly, twisting my pillow around beneath my head for the thousandth time. i felt tears prickle at the back of my exhausted eyes, and a frustrated scream lodge itself in my throat. sniffling furiously, i took short, quick breaths.

for someone who was always falling asleep on set, i sure as hell had a difficult time doing so in my own damn bed.

i sat up, clutching the covers around my bare shoulders. i had shed my clothes a while ago, during some strange hot flash. but now i was shivering, skin lingered with warm goosebumps. i think i had a fever.

grabbing my phone, i checked the time. 3:45am. i had to be up at 6am to film something with bella. i held down the button and my flashlight lit up my room. my phone plopped onto the bed as i stood. i tugged a hoodie on and some pants before quickly hitting the light switch. my eyes screamed and head pounded from the brightness. i grabbed my phone again and turned off the flashlight.

i rummaged around in the medicine cabinet above my tiny sink. there was a thing of ibuprofen, and my hands shook as i tore it open, popping a few pills. i draw swallowed and they scratched my already sore throat. there was not thermometer, however.

i moved quietly, out of my trailer, the door squeaking on the hinges a little too loud. there were a few crew members littering the makeshift streets. there was probably a night shoot happening. i never paid attention to the schedule unless it pertained to me.

the medical tent was a good fifteen minute golf cart ride, but there were none stationed where they normally would. i would just have to walk.

my feet padded against the pavement, slippers scuffing harshly. i drug my fingers against other trailers for support, but when the row of buildings came to an end, i had to hold myself up. i felt like i was going to pass out- everything ached, including my stomach. i wanted to fall into the pavement, curl into a decrepit ball, and die there.

my arms latched around my body, holding me together tightly. i was certain my eyes were completely shut. maybe i was even going in the opposite direction. i didn't know how far i had walked when i ran into someone's solid chest.

hands clutched at my shoulders, rushed, worried words gently coaxing my eyes open. "y/n, cariño? are you okay? what's wrong? y/n, what's wrong? cmon, talk to me, sugar."

my eyes flitted, somehow peeling themselves open. pedro's furrowed brows were the first thing i noticed, and his rambling lips the next. i sighed, pushing my body into his clothes. he took hold of my weight as my knees gave out a bit more.

he wrapped one arm around my back, fingers wrapped around my bicep. his other came to my forehead. "jesus, you're burning up. here-"

my stomach turned as he lifted me up in his arms, temperature hand scooping up my legs. "where are we going?" i slurred, on the precipice of passing out.

"medical tent, sugar. need to get you checked out," pedro whispered, lips close to my ear.

"i feel tired."

"that's okay," he soothed, "go to sleep. it'll be okay. i've gotchu, hermosa."

my head lolled back, resting on his shoulder, as i gave in to the darkness.

when i woke up, i was laying in a hospital bed, papery sheets wrapped tightly around my lower body. my left arm flinched, and i felt wires tug at my skin. on my body was a hospital gown, an iv, and a knit blanket overtop of the issued ones. then, my eyes flittered around the room, narrowed in the bright, fluorescent lighting that covered me.

pedro.

he was in the chair beside my bed, slid down enough that his head could rest on the back of it. his legs were spread out, slumped from his state of sleep. pedro's lips were parted slightly as his even breaths pulled in and out, and his arms were crossed over his chest.

i settled for a second, admiring how peaceful he looked. but, then the beeping of the machines next to me broke me out of my trance. i glanced around again, finding the bed's remote, and raised the head of it so i could sit up properly. pedro shuffled in the chair, groaning as his eyes popped open.

he rubbed at his sockets, sliding back up in his seat. "oh, you're awake," pedro spoke, voice raspy from sleep. okay, that was hot.

i set down the remote, hands clasping each other in my lap. "i just woke up. so, was my fever that bad?"

"it was 104, y/n," pedro leaned forward and planted his elbows on his knees. "i took you to the medical tent, they took your temp, and then shoved you into the ambulance. i was barely able to hop in before they shut the doors and drove away."

i took a shaky breath. i felt a million times better than i had- but i was still sick. i could tell by the raspiness of my breathing, the ache in my bones. "is it covid? where's your mask? you shouldn't be here-"

"hermosa," he clasped a large hand around my own, "i'm not going anywhere. and it's not covid. just a bad case of the flu."

i twisted my fingers through his. "thank god. what time is it even? how long was i out?"

pedro laughed shortly, "it's actually sunday. you've been in an out of consciousness for a day and a half. but they think you can go home tomorrow."

"shit," i sat up a bit, "what about the show? shouldn't you be filming?"

pedro braced a hand on my shoulder, pushing me back against the bed. "don't even dare think about getting up. they've shut down set for the rest of the week to do some cleaning. just relax, cariño."

i huffed, but relaxed back into the bed. pedro squeezed my hand twice. my other hand balled up a fistful of the knit blanket. it was incredibly soft. pedro watched as i stuck my fingers through its holes, fiddling with it anxiously.

"who's blanket is this, anyways?" i asked.

the corner of his lips lifted into his cheeks, "mine. it was over my shoulder when you passed out in my arms. i accidentally brought it with us and just figured you could use it."

i smiled sweetly at him, "thanks. what were you doing with it on set? is it a prop?"

"hermosa, you ask an incredible amount of questions," he hung his head. "but, i thought that you were going to be shooting with us last night. got the schedule mixed up. i brought it for you."

the blood rushed to my cheeks. i wanted to ask why, but i already knew why. for when i fell asleep. i squeezed his hand twice and we shared an ardent gaze.

–

one week later.

"hey, cariño, you feeling better?"

it was my first day back on set since i had been sick. it was a 12 hour schedule, of course, and i was feeling exhausted. i was sitting up against a wall, one leg stretched out before me, and the other curved against my body. pedro squatted before me, leaning in close with a concerned expression.

i brushed my hair behind my ear, "yeah, i'm doing alright. sleepy, as per usual."

pedro chuckled, "figured as much."

"hey, you wouldn't happen to have that blanket, would ya?" i joked, nudging his foot with my own.

"actually..."

pedro pushed up off his knees, and i watched him round the corner, towards where our set chairs were. i couldn't see him anymore. i waited two minutes, before he came back around the corner, cradling that red knit blanket.

he squatted down again, and dropped onto his knees. pedro lay the blanket out over me lovingly. i blushed deeply, engulfed in warmth, and the sweet smell of his cologne.

"wow, uh...thanks," i grinned.

pedro settled against the wall, beside me. "no worries, hermosa."

a beat of silence passed. i wrestled with my thoughts. then, i made a decision and opened the blanket, setting it across his lap. "come on," i offered. 

pedro pushed closer, shoulder pressing against mine, as the blanket covered both of us. "is this uncomfortable, though? it's kinda small-"

i bravely took his arm and wrapped it around my shoulder. he came closer, if at all possible. the blanket easily covered us both, now. "there. we made it work."

pedro looked down at me, a cheeky smile on his lips. his eyes were tired, fit with dark bags. i looked away, only to grab my phone and set an alarm. "twenty minutes okay?" i spoke softly.

pedro nodded, "okay."

i curled up into his side, placing my head in the crevice of his shoulder. i felt the weight of his own head as he rested it overtop my own.

my phone woke us twenty minutes later, shocking my system with a rapid heart rate and wide, alarmed eyes. pedro pulled away, sadly, arms stretching above his head. my body was colder in the spots he had touched, like a ghost linger there now.

"feel better?" i yawned into my palm.

pedro rubbed his sleepy eyes. "actually, yes, i do. i get why you do that so much. might have to go it more. although, i'm sure i won't look half as pretty as you do during it."

no words formed in my throat. my mind went blank, as my face heated up. i just stared at him, and i'm sure my eyes were wide, and my smile cheeky.

pedro tilted his head curiously, "you're beautiful, cariño."

i licked my bottom lip, as if lubrication would help the words come easier. "uh- than. thanks you. thank. you."

pedro just admired me for a moment before he reached forward and brushed hair behind my ear. his fingers lingered on my cheek, where he brushed his thumb over the apple of my face. he went to say something else, when a loud voice interrupted us.

"alright, people. let's get this wrapped up!" the director.

we dissipated, disappointed that the moment ended.

–

one month later.

"no, we have to match," i whined to bella, adjusting the santa hat on my head carefully.

they rolled their eyes at my reflection with the matching hat in their hands. "ugh, why?"

"because you always make me do these tiktok's and shit with you. you have to do something for me for once," i argued.

bella lazily tugged the hat on, hands falling flat at their sides. "happy?"

i squealed and clapped my hands together in excitement. "yes! oh, my gosh, so cute!"

bella wore a pair of flannel pj bottoms, red and green, with a green shirt that said, 'the humbug one.' i had on the same bottoms, but with a matching red shirt with the words, 'the jolly one.'

i had bella for secret santa, and i gifted them with the matching pjs. they complained when they unwrapped a large box and saw the pjs inside. little did they know, i had another, much nicer present. but, this was an added bonus just for my amusement.

the cast and crew christmas party was happening down at craft services. i had helped decorate yesterday, decking out the usually bland space with lights, strands of garland, and plenty of faux snow.

"cmon, we don't want to be late," i rushed bella with the wave of my hand.

they rolled their eyes again, but led us out of the trailer anyways. i knew bella secretly enjoyed this. they were like my little sibling.

as we approached craft services, christmas music tuned into our ears, along with the cherry murmur of cast and crew members mingling over cups of eggnog. my steps became a little lighter as i took it all in. everyone was dressed up in pjs or strange costumes, like the grinch or a christmas tree. i just knew my camera roll would be full after this.

bella spotted nico in the crowd and quickly ditched me for her. they looked back at me for a split second and stuck their tongue out, "see you later, loser."

i scoffed loudly, "what the hell!"

left in the dust, i crossed my arms and stepped over my own halted feet forward. i ran into sebastian first, who was nursing a very large sugar cookie cocktail.

"hello, gorgeous," he shook the bell on the end of my hat.

"hi, seb," i giggled. "that looks yummy."

"here, i'll get you one!" he offered enthusiastically, turning towards the table beside us.

my eyes rolled over his shoulder, where i noticed pedro was standing at the other end of the table with nick. pedro wore this ugly christmas sweater, mandelorian themed, with a pair of jeans. he had his glasses on, too, a small detail that made my stomach flutter. pedro had a whiskey glass in his left hand, and his right hung loosely in his front pocket. he was talking gently, grinning at whatever they were talking about. i wonder who his secret santa was.

my eyes lingered a second longer before sebastian popped back up in front of me. he held out a cocktail. i smiled, "thank you so much. hey, who'd you get for the secret santa thing?"

sebastian took a small sip of his drink, "murray bartlett. got him this blue scarf and glove set. looks gorgeous with his eyes."

i nodded, eyes flickering between him and pedro. a distant look, i'm sure, crossed my face. "oh, awesome. and who had you?"

sebastian tried to meet my eyes, but they focused in on pedro. he turned slightly, following my gaze. "0h, my god," he laughed. "knew it."

i wasn't paying attention. "who?"

sebastian's reply was laughed, "someone from the camera crew- girl, you're down so bad."

"uh-huh," i rolled my bottom lip between my teeth.

pedro's head fell back as he laughed, and when he straightened it, his eyes finally met mine. his smile widened, if at all possible, as he seemed to withdraw from the conversation and enter a space, encased with only me.

nick looked my way, brows furrowed with confusion. when he saw me, his brows then raised in understanding. he and sebastian shared an annoyed, humored look.

sebastian's hand touched my back, and he gently shoved me forward. my feet, which had been aching to make that journey forward, caught themselves and continued. nick patted pedro's shoulder lovingly, muttering some goodbye, and he walked away. 

as i settled in front of pedro, a shiver rippled down my back. i let out a breathy, "hey."

pedro looked utterly taken, and he tilted his chin down, "hermosa."

"so," i swayed side to side slightly, grasping at some topic, "who had you for secret santa?"

pedro replied, "nick. got me some whiskey and this really nice jacket."

"oh, awesome," i finally took my eyes off his, nodding at my feet. but, like magnets, we met again.

"who'd you have?" pedro swung his elbow, lightly jabbing me.

i found bella in the crowd and pointed towards them. "bella. made them wear these stupid pajamas with me. i haven't given them the actual gift, which is a ginormous gift basket with all their favorite snacks and stuff like that."

pedro whistled, "damn, cariño. now i'm kinda wishing you were my secret santa."

"ha," i laughed, "yeah, well i haven't gotten anything yet, so i'm not going to be gifting anybody else...that's a lie, i'll make you a gift basket."

pedro said, "no, no, no," and braced his hand on my bicep. it was warm, like i remembered, "don't worry about that. your secret santa is just...waiting, hermosa. for the right moment."

i tilted my head, "waiting? what? how do you...oh."

pedro's smile was knowing. his hand stayed on my arm, sliding down my forearm, to my  fingers. he intertwined them with his own. "i think this moment feels right. cmon."

he turned to stand beside me. with a gentle tug of my hand, we moved forward, away from the party, and to his trailer.

"are you going to kill me?" i joked.

pedro shook his head, laughing, "no, i promise. i just-" he held the door open, "wanted this to be for just us."

i had the smallest inclination, but i tried not to get my hopes up. my chest inflated anyways, full of thrill.

when we stepped inside, pedro grabbed a wrapped present from the counter. "this is the first present."

"the first? wow. you didn't-"

"don't start with that, hermosa,” he shushed me, and motioned to the couch. “just open it.”

i pressed my lips together, a grin growing on my face. “okay.”

i took a seat with him on the couch and set the present on my lap. my fingers shook slightly as i began to peel off the christmas wrapping paper. “oh, i like the little cats,” i laughed as i stopped to admire the various patterned animal on the paper.

pedro nodded, “i knew you would.”

my heart was melting.

i peeled more of the paper away, revealing a large, knit blanket. “you didn’t!” i gasped, shaking off the paper. “i hate you!”

pedro laughed as i quickly started tearing off the packaging. i unrolled the blanket, and wrapped it around my shoulders, basking in the softness.

“oh, i did,” he remarked.

i sighed in the embrace of the blanket, “it’s so warm, i could fall asleep right here.”

“why are you always so tired?” pedro shook my shoulders crazily, teasing me.

i laughed, and situated some of the blanket on his lap. “i don’t know! i just am, i guess.”

“worries me,” he rubbed a hand over the blanket that was on my thigh.

i shifted under his touch, nervous again. “well, thank you for this.”

“okay, next present,” pedro clapped his hands together.

he reached for a smaller square, wrapped in the same paper, on the coffee table. i tilted my head, exasperated by his kind favors. “thank you, pedro.”

“just open it already.”

i did as he asked. under the paper was a picture collage, with a few different pictures of us. the day i first fell asleep with my head in his lap; the day i overheard him and bella talking about me; him by side at the hospital, holding my hand; the time we fell asleep under the blanket together.

i sucked in a gasp of breath, “wow! who took all of these?”

pedro laughed, “bella.”

i rolled my eyes in response. “should’ve known. this is so sweet. i can’t wait to hang it up at home.”

pedro hesitated, before laying out some careful wording, “i wanted you to have these pictures because they’re sweet, yes. but, hermosa, i wanted you to be able to see me falling in love with you. i didn’t notice it at first, until bella sent me these pictures last week. but, i know now- it’s there.”

i met his eyes, my own vision watery from admiration. i set the frame down and took his hand in my own, “im so happy right now. i don’t think you’re ever going to top this gift.”

we shared a small laugh. i looked back to the picture frame and continued admiring it. then, he squeezed my hand twice, as a few beats of silence passed between us. “hermosa?”

“yeah?” i looked back to him. he raised his brows, waiting expectantly. i realized, and my eyes widened, “oh! i love you! yeah, i do, i’m sorry, i thought i said, but i guess i forgot to. i love you so fucking much, pedro.”

he rolled his eyes, but burst into singing laughter. “i can’t believe you!”

“i’m sorry, i’m tired!”

[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Ch 20

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

I promise we will get into the timer stuff soon but I have to build up the plot first…

Content Warnings - None!

You wake up to Finnick gone, a note left on his pillow.

Got called into training early. Didn’t want to disturb you. I’ll see you at lunch.

Love,

Your fake husband

Why was he in training so early? He said yesterday that his training wouldn’t start till after breakfast.

Maybe he was upset by what happened last night. Maybe he didn’t enjoy it.

You let your thoughts consume you as you lay in bed, completely skipping breakfast and most of your morning schedule.

A knock on your door pulls you from your thoughts.

“Come in,” you sigh to whoever was waiting. You’re surprised to see Boggs enter.

“Miss Y/L/N, do I need to remind you that you have a schedule to follow?” he asks.

“No,” you yawn. “I’m sorry I lost track of time. What time is it anyways?”

“10:34 AM,” Boggs states. “I’ve been instructed to escort you to your doctor’s checkup, which you are very late to.”

Boggs gives you a minute to dress before he’s escorting you to the hospital. He says Coin isn’t happy that you are already disregarding your schedule and is rethinking your living arrangement.

Prim performs your checkup that morning. She clears you for the day and you make your way to the cafeteria to help with lunch prep.

11:30 rolls around and you finally have a chance to see Finnick. Twelve hours felt too long and you were anxious to face him again. He was sometimes hard to read.

“Hey love,” he says as you sit down next to him with your tray. “How was your morning?”

“Meh,” you shrug. “I got reprimanded by Boggs for not following my schedule. I guess that was a serious rule.”

“Sorry about this morning,” Finnick states. “I would have woken you up when they buzzed for me but you look like you needed the sleep.”

“That’s ok,” you sigh, thinking about how sad you were that he wasn’t there when you woke. “Why did they increase your training?”

“Katniss snuck onto a transport that left late last night for District 2,” he explains. “They’re moving up our deployment timeline.”

“Deployment?” you ask, setting your fork down. “You didn’t tell me they were sending you anywhere.”

“Can we talk about this tonight?” he replies.

“I’m not hungry,” you state, abruptly standing with your tray. Finnick calls out for you as you walk away, needing to escape for a bit.

You end up back at the hospital to talk to Prim.

“Could I get an excuse for the rest of the day?” you ask her. “I’m not feeling well.”

“Oh no! Do you need medicine? What’s not feeling well?” she asks.

“I’ve just had a bad day that’s all,” you shake your head. “I can’t mentally handle a schedule today.”

“Why don’t you go chat with Dr. Aurelius for a bit,” Prim suggests. “He’s available now if you want to see him.”

You had never been in therapy before. Dr. Aurelius seemed nice but you didn’t know if you could trust him. What do therapists even do?

“Nice to meet you Miss Y/L/N,” the man states as he enter the room. “I’m Dr. Aurelius. Why don’t we start with how you’re feeling today?”

“Sad,” you reply, unsure of how to properly convey your emotions.

“Do you know why you feel sad?” he asks. “Or what made you feel this way?”

“District 13 makes me sad,” you state as the man writes something down in his notebook. “I have no autonomy here.”

“They allowed you to get married,” he remarks. “Are you happy about that?”

“Meh,” you shrug. “I mean I love Finnick but it was a fake wedding for a propo that we agreed to do so we could be roommates here in 13. He’s lived with me for 5 years now. I skipped my schedule this morning and Coin is already threatening to make us live separately again.”

“I see,” the man comments. “Do you find schedules restricting?”

“I guess I do,” you respond. “I mean I’ve spent my whole adult life on house arrest so I’ve never really been able to make decisions for myself. Having a schedule feels like someone is telling me what to do all the time.”

“That’s understandable,” he comments. “I can excuse you from your schedule for today but you will need to find a compromise with President Coin. I will provide you with a list of options for your schedule so you can maybe pick out what you want to do. I apologize that the list is limited but it’s the best I can do.”

You take the list and agree to meet with him and Coin in the morning to discuss your schedule. In the mean time he gives you a “mentally unstable” bracelet to excuse you for the rest of the day.

The list seems meh. You had no interest in learning about nuclear weapons or the history of Panem, and cafeteria duty wasn’t necessarily your favorite.

Reflection time rolled around and Finnick enters your shared cabin.

“You skipped dinner,” he comments as he throws you an apple. You reluctantly take it and eat a bit to ease his worry.

“You skipped out on telling me about deployment,” you mutter.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs as he moves to sit next to you. “I just didn’t feel like there was a good time to tell you. I was going to tell you before the wedding but you had your breakdown and I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Where are they sending you?” you ask.

“The capital,” he responds. At this answer you burst into tears.

“You can’t leave me,” you sob. Finnick wishes he could pull you into a hug but he knows better than to touch you when you’re upset.

“It will only be for two weeks,” he states. “Three at most.”

“What if you don’t come back?” you hiccup.

“I’ll always come back for you,” he replies.

Taglist:

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[snootlestheangel]

After the events of Las Almas and everything involving Shepherd gets fixed, Task Force 141 and Shadow Company are forced to spend 8 weeks together (minimum) to repair trust and regain their alliance.

These are some Incorrect Quotes from during the 141's stay. (Moose belongs to @cod-dump )

Graves: All right, Shadows! Welcome to Ceremony Day for Shadow Olympics. Unfortunately, this year we have... guests. The military and government, in their infinite wisdom, have decided we need to repair our alliance with some of Britain's forces. In other words, it's a government ordered get-along-shirt with *long pause* Task Force 141. *loud booing from the Shadows* Graves: Yes, Flash? Flash: I am new here, so why do we hate them? *everyone is now suddenly very awkward* *Woody leans over and whispers the answer to Flash* Flash: Nevermind, sir! *sits back down* Graves: This is gonna be awful

*Ghost is watching something with interest on their third day at Shadow Base* Soap: Watcha lookin' at, Lt? Ghost: *wordlessly points* Soap: You're watchin' one of the Shadows... run laps?? Ghost: Yes. For the last twenty minutes. Soap: Oh god... Ghost: I don't think he plans on stopping anytime soon, either. *Flash runs by and waves dramatically before speeding up* Soap and Ghost: What the fuck?

*Soap has found himself in the motor pool* Soap: Damn, this truck is nice! Truck, appearing behind him: It is, but you aren't, so get the fuck out of my shop. Soap: But I've never seen an American HEMTT before!! Truck, skeptical: You know what kind of truck this is? Soap: Hell yeah! *an hour later* Graves: It seems like everyone's getting along okay, so far. Price, scowling: Sure, we'll go with that. It's not at all like your Shadows are terrorizing my men. Graves: That's a bold accusation- What the fuck? *they both look over to see Truck telling Soap all about the HEMTT and Soap is loving every second* Price: Is that an issue? Graves: Truck doesn't like anyone in his shop... Soap, notices them: PRICE LOOK AT THIS FUCKING TRUCK!! IT GOT COMPLETELY DESTROYED AND TRUCK HERE COMPLETELY REDID IT FROM SCRATCH!! ISN'T THAT SO COOL?! CAN WE GET A TRUCK LIKE THIS?? Price: Absolutely not! Graves, doubled over: The world is ending...

*Another day of Ghost watching Flash run cause he's afraid of the power this kid has* Woody, walking with Moose: I don't think Ghost has any ill intentions here, okay? Moose: You don't know that! Woody: Give me one reason to believe Ghost isn't a good guy. Moose, shaking and pointing: He watches Flash run and I don't know why. *Ghost is standing there with his arms crossed and blatantly watching Flash* Woody: Oh, yeah he does. That's... normal, right? I mean we all watched Flash run like this when he was brand new. Moose: But- *can't form words to convey his concern for Flash's safety* Woody: Tell ya what, I'll get Graves to talk to their captain about getting Ghost to stop. In the meantime, just hang out here and keep an eye on the kid if you're so worried. Moose: Uh, okay... Sure, I'll stay here by myself with The Ghost and be the only thing keeping Flash safe. *Woody shakes his head with a laugh and leaves* *Ghost gets the uncomfortable feeling he's being watched* *looks over to see Moose glaring daggers at him* Ghost, thinking: God that guy really hates me, doesn't he? Maybe I should show I'm actually concerned this kid's gonna drop halfway through his laps... yeah, that'll work, right? Shadows are loyal to each other. Moose, thinking: I'm so fucking scared right now, but if he makes one move towards Flash I'll- I'll kill him! Ghost, calling out to Flash: You need a water break! Flash: Oh shit, you right! *runs over to where Ghost is standing to get his water* Moose, terrified so it comes out harsh: Flash sets a timer on his watch for water breaks. Ghost: Oh, right. Just wanted to make sure he's not overworking himself. Flash, oblivious: 'S okay, Moose! My timer was about to go off anyways! Moose: *grunts* Ghost, thinking again as Moose all but glares at him: Well that backfired... Moose, also thinking: He's gonna fucking kill me, oh god, oh shit, Flash run! Flash, sipping his water and looking between them thinking: What am I witnessing? Is this power play? What even is that?

*Gaz and Soap talking while outside during the sunset* Soap: Have you had a conversation with that kid they call Flash, yet? Gaz: YES! Oh my god, I thought you talked. He's really nice but holy shit can he talk. *they look over upon hearing something in the water* *It's Ness crawling out of the pool in his full wetsuit* *Soap and Gaz scream cause they don't recognize him as a person* Ness: What?! Gaz: You're fucking terrifying! Soap: I wanna go home...

[mrsrileywrites]

My brain unlocked a bonus to this story right here 👇

It turned out longer than I thought, hope you all enjoy, don't forget to interact, I want to hear your thoughts and suggestions.

TW: labor, medical inaccuracies, soft Simon (if I missed any just tell me and I'll fix it)

1,784 word

"Simon?.... Simon!" You whisper yelled to wake the hulking man sleeping next to you, Simon being a light sleeper sat on the bed immediately. "Huh? What is it love?".

"I-I think I peed myself" you whispered about to cry from embarrassment.

You had been feeling funny all day, the ache on your lower back worse than ever and a cramp-like pain starting at the top of your belly and moving all the way down along with a little pressure on your vaginal area, it felt like your baby was doing big stretches inside of you, "it's a big baby", you told yourself, "maybe he's just running out of space".

Simon flung aside the covers and got out of bed, he was on your side faster than a lightning, he helped you sit on the edge of the bed and you felt like you peed again, you gasped as your hands flew in between your legs. "Oh... Oh no!... Oh my God!" Your voice was laced with panic. "What? What is it? What is it, love?" Simon, who was kneeling in front of you, tried to keep it cool but he was panicking as much as you were.

"This... this isn't pee... my water broke" you looked as realization hit him, his hands that were resting on your thighs squeeze gently. "Okay... okayokay... uh w-we practiced this before" Simon tried to reassure you or himself, you aren't sure.

As your due date came closer and closer, Simon, having the military ways engraved in his brain, made you run drills where he would go over everything you needed to bring to the hospital once the moment came, he would set a timer and load everything on the car, you included, just to see how long would it take him, you just needed to sit and wait, he would haul you in his arms like you weighed nothing and carry you to the car as you giggled on his arms, "Don't laugh at me love, this is serious!" He would scold you trying in vain to suppress the grin on his face.

And so Simon, just like in his drills, stared to get all the essentials you both had packed together, except now, he was acting more like a headless chicken, running around the house, mumbling to himself, as he put everything on the car, he sat behind the steering wheel and fasten his seatbelt, he looked at the passenger seat and cursed under his breath, you weren't sitting there, he got off the car and run back inside, there you were sitting on the couch where he left you trying to hold your laughter.

"Shit love, I'm sorry." his tone apologetic as he scratched the back of his head letting out a soft chuckle. Your face contorned in pain as a contraccion hit you and he was at your side in no time. "Breath, sweetheart... Deep breaths" he coaxed you, his voice soft like a feather, so you did, you breath through the contraccion until it went away, Simon tried to lift you off the couch but you refused, "I can walk, Si... I'm fine" he wasn't happy about it but he compelled without a fuss.

He helped you get on the car and secured your seatbelt before walking around with long strides and taking his seat behind the steering wheel. He drove to the hospital, one hand firm on the steering wheel while the other rested on your belly, your hand on top of his.

In every red light he would look at you and asked how you were doing, he took deep breaths with you and rubbed circles on your belly to help ease the pain of each contraccion.

The arrival to the hospital was smooth and in a short period of time you both were settled in a room, Simon helped you take off your clothes and put on the garments a nurse brought for you.

You were on the bed, a tocodyamometer was placed around your belly to measure the length, frequency and strength of every contraccion, you hated it, it squeezed your belly and made the pain worst, Simon sat next to your bed, holding your hand, attentive to each and every movement, the nurses were nice, they came from time to time to check on you, other than that they let you be and share this moment just between the two of you.

The contractions came more often, you had less and less time to recover in between each one, pain flooding your body like a tsunami.

As much as you loved Simon's cheer size, in this moment you were not so sure. Carrying his child had been a nerve wrecking experience, "a bigger than average baby" said your doctor on every appointment, which only added to your fears and anxiety. C-section had been an option, your doctor put it on the table without judgement, it was necessary in some cases she said, and this may very well be one of those cases, but you refused, you decided you will listen to your body and try and do this as natural as possible unless that was the only option, Simon stood with you, not like he felt he had a say on the decisions regarding your body but he decided he would support whatever you choose no matter what.

As the nurses got you ready for the big moment Simon left to the bathroom to put on the scrubs one nurse provided for him, the biggest size they were able to find, Simon came back looking like a doctor, he stood next to the bed again and you cling to his arm, he brushed your hair with his hand, "I'm scared" you wailed to him and it broke his heart, to see you scared and in so much pain.

He leaned over and caressed your cheek, "It's okay love, you are going to be okay, you are so brave and strong, you got this... I'm right here, I got you." You nodded and it soothe him a little, he was scared too but he wouldn't let you know. He would be whatever you needed him to be and right now you needed him to be strong and supportive.

"I'm going to tell you when and I need you to push really hard for me, okay?" The nurse guided you to push with each contraction as Simon wiped the sweat from your forehead whispering sweet praises next to your ear.

"Push, push, push!" The nurse cheer you. "I can't, Simon... I can't, it hurts" you cried. "Yes you can, you are almost there, sweetheart" he cradled your upper body in his arms "Just a little more, one big push and it'll be over". So you pushed, you tried your damn hardest and suddenly you felt relief.

The world seemed to stand still for a second and then you heard a loud cry. "Congratulations" the nurse praised you, "such a big baby boy, well done mama" she put your baby on your chest and you hold it immediately, your mother instincts kicking in.

You looked up at Simon, he was speechless, tears blurring his vision as he saw you holding a carbon copy of him. He placed his hand gently on the baby's back and kissed your forehead and thanked you over and over, he was so happy and proud of what you just did he felt his heart burst at the seems.

The nurse took the baby to weight and measured him but also to get him cleaned up and dressed. Simon stood behind her and snapped a quick picture over her shoulder to send to the 141 and show off.

You got settled into the room again, the big baby looking tiny on Simon's burly arms as he cooed sweet words rocking him side to side, and much to your dismay, all the new born clothes you so carefully picked fit a bit too tight on your baby.

It was already close to noon so Simon decided to go back home and get the 0-3 months old clothes you refused to bring just in case. He put the sleeping baby on the basin, the sooner he left the sooner he'll be back.

You thanked the heavens for Simon's methodical brain and his insistence on organizing the baby's clothes by color and size because at least he would be able to find them easily since you wouldn't be there to point out he isn't able to find what's laying right in front of his nose.

Simon came back short after just to find the room empty, no traces of you or the baby. Simon walked to where the nurses were, his heartbeat ringing in his ears and his breathing shallow, a nurse guided him back to the elevator and towards the top floor, "intensive care unit" he read on the sign just outside the elevator which only added to the uneasy feeling brewing in his chest, his vision became clouded, why did they take you here? where's the baby? a tons of questions flooded his brain along with the rising panic.

The nurse knocked gently before opening the door to a room, Simon walked past her and stopped in his tracks as he saw you, sitting on the reclining chair, chubby baby sleeping snuggly in your arms.

You looked up at him and smiled, "Simon, they brought us here, they said something about a broken pip-" Simon took you in his arms and lift you with baby and everything to sit on the chair with you in his lap pulling you closer to his chest.

"Simon, you okay?" you asked a little shocked, "Mhm" he sniffled pressing his lips to your temple. "You weren't there" he spoke in a whisper but you could hear the fear in his voice "I walked into the room and you weren't there, I thought-".

The baby cried, hungry and bossy. You offered your boob and he latched sucking greedily, Simon caressed the patch of blonde hair on top of his head and smiled. "He's just like you" you cooed running your finger through his chubby cheek "He loves your boobs?" Simon teased you. "He's got a good appetite" you scolded him and he chuckled.

 

The day you got dismissed from the hospital came rather quickly and Simon got to put in practice everything he learned on the "car seat safety" class you both took.

The first night back home wasn't as bad as you thought it would be, Simon was right there to ensure everyone had a smooth transition into this new chaotic yet wonderful new stage on your lives turning fears into fierce protection.

(also I'm not very happy with the ending but my brain shut down and left me on my own 🥲)

[rivet77]

Meditation used to be a practice that always confounded me, if I'm being honest. I would set a timer, close my eyes, focus on breathing fully & naturally through my nose, and it would feel like I'm attempting to stop a speeding train. My body would *fight* me, going "you can't stop, you have shit to do, you have things to worry about, how long as it been, surely the timer is getting close to being done, maybe you should check." Practically vibrating in my seat. My eyes would twitch. My body would itch. I'd literally be able to feel my heart squirming uncomfortably in my chest on every inhale. Every cell in my body would want me to stop, and prior to the last few months, I absolutely would have stopped!

Instead, I pushed through it. Insisted on holding the brakes down until I fully stopped, no matter how much the train wanted to keep going. I'd ask myself "why am I so uncomfortable" and start "scanning" my body, going through each part and intentionally relaxing it.

As this process goes on, eventually the breathing pattern stops feeling forced. The air begins to feel much like a drink of water when I'm thirsty, nourishing me, and it feels *good.* My thoughts happen, but I'm only observing them. I watch the lights & patterns on the back of my eyelids, no longer feeling my heart pounding against my chest, and I begin to feel an odd, almost... serene sensation above my eyes. As if a heavenly room opened up in my brain; where observations, ideas, and more come to me without much effort at all. It feels almost as if you're on the very edge of sleeping, without falling asleep. Before I knew it, the timer was going off. That's when it clicked. That's the meditative state I've been looking for.

Ever since I've been practicing it more and more. It's never anything long; I started with ten minutes, then fifteen, and I did twenty for awhile. It doesn't sound like a lot, but when you're sitting with your eyes closed, doing nothing, it can feel like forever (before you hit that meditative state, that is). Fifteen minutes is my sweet spot now, and by simply remembering the feeling of that meditative state, I'm able to reach it pretty quickly in those fifteen minutes. Before, i would spend most of the time trying to get there, but it's gotten much easier, and I almost always feel so much more clear and calm afterwards.

So yeah. If meditation has ever been a problem for you, just know that if you haven't practiced it, you're going to be stopping a moving train when you try. You need to keep holding down the brakes until it stops, or it will just keep accelerating. It'll be uncomfortable, and you'll need to learn to sit with the discomfort, feel it, and let it pass. What I found beyond that is 100% worth it

[classyfruit]

Hi ma'am, what environment works best for you to work in? Like time of day or specific place?

Hi and hello dear Anon, thanks for getting in touch with your question - I hope you're well! 🤗 Since your question might be interesting for everyone, I've taken some time to answer in depth. I hope it's useful for y'all!

🔽How I work best as a full-time artist🔽

Time/Schedule

I personally work best early in the day when my concentration and energy is at its highest.

Since I am prone to either ALWAYS work/draw or be exhausted from rushing myself, a good schedule is vital! Currently, I am in the process of figuring out a new, much more flexible schedule for myself, where certain days of the week are reserved for tasks with some flex days to switch things around if needed.

I like to start with admin tasks, which I find difficult, and work my way down until I can "just draw", which I find easiest.

Workplace/Set-Up

I work with a PC and drawing tablet set-up, so I am bound to my desk workplace-wise, but I would love to upgrade with a portable tablet so I can draw out in nature or in society.

I've surrounded my desk with things that inspire me: Plants, postcards, trinkets, you name it. This keeps my brain fresh and oftentimes gives me a boost to keep drawing.

My monitors are positioned high enough that I can see them well while sitting upright. Good posture is vital if you spend a lot of time working!

I now have my big Huion Kamvas tablet that has a display, so I need to remind myself to not be crouched over it all the time. I also pull up the artwork on my further-away monitor to check the overall composition and/or values, instead of drowning in details!

Health While Working

While drawing, music, documentaries or Let's Plays are vital to keep the overthinking at bay and to keep me in the flow!

WATER!! I can't stress enough how important it is to drink. Enough. Water. If I don't, that results in brain fog and art is no.

Sometimes I need to rest my eyes on something else than my WIP art - I usually keep my desktop wallpaper something calming and almost neutral (like a mist-covered lake or a mountain ridge) and just stare at it for a few moments.

I am mindful of my breaks, especially when drawing! I use a pomodoro timer to know when it's time for stretching my hands and for water breaks.

Snack breaks are also a good thing - I definitely recommend fruit (because of course!), nuts and dark chocolate. They help me stay energized without making me drowsy.

Process

I keep a very detailed To Do list to keep myself motivated and also to know where exactly in the art/project process I am. My brain can either be in admin mode or creative mode, not both.

If I feel blocked either artistically or energy wise, I try to do some personal sketches for at least ten minutes.

If I absolutely can't motivate myself to draw (due to energy levels or whatever reason), I honor that and see if I want to do something else, like learning Blender, learning more about the business side of the artist life - or maybe just take a breather and let myself be a human bean.

Some days, I like the challenge of sketching a new idea, some days I prefer the cozy and less creative task of doing outlines and shading of existing sketches. I now try to let myself do what I gravitate towards more and it pays off with me not feeling overwhelmed as easily. It's about just doing what you can most of the time.

When I'm done with a piece of artwork, I try my darndest to be very supportive and proud of myself. I take a longer break and return to look at the finished artwork, trying to name my favorite thing about it as well as something I can see needs more work.

Something I don't do YET but will do: Keeping a document with all the positive comments I receive. I think validation and acknowledgement are things that humans almost always enjoy and keeping a record of praise around is sure to motivate me at least a little.

And that's that! If any of you read to this point: Thank you very much, I hope you found my list useful! If you have any tips or tricks regarding drawing, staying motivated and in general doing a hecking survive as an arting individual, why not drop it in the comments for all to benefit from? Stay healthy and stay happy! Much love! 😊

[eirian]

just watched a video on how to avoid burnout and finish your series projects and some of the points made me cross my arms like a stubborn child bc damn i really do need to do those things LOL

the main two points that made me go grrrr were "if you dread doing a certain part of the thing (lines, colors, shading, backgrounds, etc) then literally hire someone to do them for you" and "set a timer so you Stop Working after a certain amount of time b/c your ass doesnt need to be working for 8 hours straight on a project even if youre in 'the zone'"

the first one got me bc like. i SHOULD be letting people help me. im doing all this shit by myself and it does kill me sometimes but i have this awful complex where i just HAVE to do everything myself or else it doesnt feel like its completely my work anymore. its rough out here

the second one got me bc i KNOW it would help. it would let me cool down and not work as much and be excited for when im able to come back and work on stuff. but man it is SO HARD to get me to NOT do everything in one sitting unless my energy doesnt allow for it anyway..thats why im so damn fast. i just KEEP GOING like the fucking energizer bunny

i hate that burnout has such a hold on me and makes it to where i work a lot at once and then dont work for like..weeks, sometimes months at a time. hell at one point it was years. which sucked. but i want to try and solve my burnout problem :(

the video also suggested to do what the creator did--work in phases. i SORT OF do this, but not in the same way, so maybe i should try their way, where they outline the whole chapter, then sketch the whole chapter, then line the whole chapter, then color the whole chapter, and etc in phases like that. they said its inevitable that your art style is going to change throughout your project (mine certainly has) but this way its at least consistent per episode/chapter lol. which i think i really need. i guess my problem with this technique is like...i post when i finish pages, not in bulk. at least for mirrors and doppelganger ii. so idk if thatll necessarily..work for me??? UNLESS i just do it and stagger the page postings. i could probably do that

honestly. maybe my stimulant therapy will fix everything anyway. but in the meantime im gonna try to reel it in myself

[cryptid-kay]

Is this really a writing post?

I maybe don't actually like write ABOUT writing much, but I wanted to get on here today and state that I've been writing for around 12 years. Started as an edgy fanfic writer, and somehow evolved into maybe a decent writer?

And I wanted to write a post about the importance of writing what you connect with.

Recently a friend started asking about our processes of writing. In this, they asked us about writing exercises/prompts/ etc.

I'm not here to tell you NOT to write using them. But I wanna make a few points.

Writing is Exploration I think I'm not wrong in saying writing is for many of us a way to explore language, explore ourselves, and yeah, sometimes it's therapy. Writing little exercises for me was always super boring because I didn't connect. Or I had to really dig into my brain to find some little piece of me that was interesting enough to write about, and then I'd get lost in it and forget the exercise. It was just a struggle.

IMAGE PROMPTS PEOPLE Alright, I just dissed writing prompts/exercises, but I think if you REALLY need some inspiration. Pinterest. Open the app. Lose yourself in it. Find some artwork that speaks to your SOUL. Then go write about it. Set a timer, whatever your process is. If you want an exercise, use images. Art is emotional, it's personal, and it's interpretive. It's a wonderful foundation for an idea or exercise.

Why I just really hate writing exercises (and you can disagree with me) I didn't grow up with books on how to write. I grew up as a 12-year-old kid who watched movies, read books, and fell in love with characters. And when I ran out of stories on my shelf, I made them up in my head. I practiced writing by writing. There wasn't a "write in the 3rd POV" exercise when I started. There was no, "imagine yourself in X situation," there were just characters and stories and stories, and stories. When I finally got around to wanting to be better at writing I tried the exercises. I tried writing every day. I tried writing what I saw. I tried journaling. I tried basically all of it. I got books, I got online classes, and somehow...none of it improved my writing, it just frustrated me that I couldn't sit down and do a writing exercise like I could an essay question. It lacked all soul and I hated the words I produced. I took a whole creative writing class and came out of it almost determined I'd never be a good writer. Then last year I got stuck after working for 12 months tirelessly on a mess of a trilogy. I hit a wall. And I sat down and wrote a fanfic. Heck, I wrote two. And I read books. And I became 12 again, with stories in my head, music blaring, characters talking, no prompts, no exercises. And I improved. Now I wanna be clear, I challenged myself in my fanfic. I chose POVs I wasn't proficient in, I pushed the boundaries of my prose, but I didn't make it an exercise, I made it a story. I needed that POV because the character needed to be viewed that way. I needed better prose to showcase the nuances of my silly little fanfic. But most of all I needed to connect with the story and have fun. So I'm not knocking writing exercises, but I do wanna say, to all the fanfic writers, to the people languishing because you can't follow the prompts in some "how to write" book, you're not a bad writer. Writing is supposed to be fun. Writing is supposed to connect with us. It's all one big sandbox, so go play in it.

[devilscastle69]

hello I come with 'anythings' if you'd like them <3 - What TYPE of dessert is your favourite? (follow up) what kind from that type? (as specific as you wanna get!) - Do you have a favourite place to hang out when you wanna do nothing? Or a favourite place to people watch? - If you need to get studying done, what helps you? What makes it worse? - If you were a bird for a day, what would you be excited to do? What would you not wanna do? - Is there a song stuck in your head? More than one? (follow up) If so, which one(s)? - Do you have anything you need so you can sleep? Is there anything that you can't stand while sleeping? - If you could have any meal free for the rest of your life, (every time you get it, it's free) what meal would you choose, and why? - What meal always makes you feel happy? Do you know why that is, and if you do, want to share the reason~? this is so long, so feel free to pick and choose, or answer all if you want!! Just a lil variety~ <3)

Tysm for asking these omg 🥺🥺🥺 you are so sweet fjdjdhjfj

Ahhh I can’t choose honestly. Maybe like puddingy types? Like I love getting rice pudding and flan and bread pudding at restaurants. Also love good ice cream in the summer

For hangout places I love the weeby stores by me!!!! There’s a spot I love that has rlly good ramen and snacks. I also love going to a specific mall and the barcade w friends. Always love GameStop too.

Omg studying 😭 thank god I’m done w college. If I wanted to get a masters tho 💀 omg. Ok hm. Def practicing. For some types of studying music can help. Other times it doesn’t. Having a specific area helped me like sometimes going to the library or sitting on the floor rather than my bed or in the living room. Having snacks or set goals for myself. Setting a timer could help. Working w ppl who would hold me accountable vs ppl who just wanna chill (less helpful)

Having the tv on is def a distraction or like trying to study passively. I don’t remember all the tools I used honestly. I probably would rewrite the info and give myself practice questions. I definitely struggled to pay attention looking back. Lots of my note docs would be almost blank bc I’d just start writing fanfic. I also attended zoom university for a bit so it was a wash. I sucked at studying in high school. My senior year was full of bs classes that I was actually interested in. I probably should get screened for adhd but my therapist was like you’re fine so 🤷🏼 w/e. I almost failed math sophomore year of hs bc I could not focus I would just draw mermaids in the corners of my notebook. My parents’ friend/a dif teacher tutored me and the one on one help is def the only way I passed. I took an easier class next year that I could bs my way thru and same for my senior year.

In college I’d be like bitch u don’t EAT until u do this math. U get NO free ice cream if u don’t do it >:(. U don’t get to do xyz until after. I will order DOMINOS if u actually try

I am v lucky to have a job I care about and can plan for. It’s like the fine dining and breathing SpongeBob thing. If I don’t care about it it’s thrown out and everything is on fire.

If I were a bird I’d be like omfg write that down WRITE THAT DOWN it’s going in the next h//awks fanfic. I would wanna fly. I’d maybe wanna visit ppl I care about. Like not to do anything creepy tho idek. I probs wouldn’t wanna eat bugs.

I found a way from drake and Josh and also flowers - Miley Cyrus

Haha I used to need the tv on to sleep at my parents’ house. I also used to have a much easier time w melatonin, weed, or alcohol bc I was constantly anxious there. 🥲 now I can lit sleep in absolute dark and w silence and don’t need any sleep aides. I love the lil fan I have blowing on my face and I love sleeping in the ac. I love my blankets I have some special ones and then a weighted one that is such a game changer. I hate when it’s too hot to sleep or too cold like I don’t like having to bundle. When I lived w my roommates they liked it really cold and I’d basically shiver until I finally crashed. W like a sweatshirt and sweatpants and socks and multiple blankets.

A burrito or burrito bowl bc whenever I was hella sad I’d go to qdoba and it would make me so much happier immediately. And whenever it was free it was an extra boost. I loved being able to choose everything too and like a lot of the staff knew what I was gonna say bc I was there a lot 💀💀💀

LMAO QDOBA MAKES ME HAPPPPYYYYY

also my moms cooking is so good. like it’s soooo fucking fire it’s worth the drama just to come eat.

also I love sushi. I think I tried it for the first time w friends and it’s always a comforting food. same w ramen. if im like s*** or depressed it’s another go to. I used to get it a lot when I was working at this one job I hated

[heythereitsace]

The Spoonie's Way

I've tried/failed at The Artist's Way for several years. I've tried to tough it out on my own (bad choice) and with real life groups (better) and weekly Zoom meets (best). But I've always struggled to keep up the habits I develop over the twelve weeks, particularly things like the Morning Pages, and I think I've realised why:

The Artist's Way is not designed with disability in mind.

For me, specifically, I've got hypermobility. That means my body bends further than it should, and it makes certain things more painful or much more effort. One of those things? Writing with a pen.

The Morning Pages are a cornerstone of The Artist's Way, and right off the bat you're told that they should be done long-hand (handwritten) AND first thing in the morning.

"Just get up half an hour earlier," the book prompts you. "Gift yourself this morning time."

No no no. My poor broken hands means that half an hour is not nearly enough time to scratch out three pages. I need at least an hour, maybe 90 minutes, to get that done. And my hands are RUINED after that. Like, don't ask me to now make breakfast, or drive, or do up buttons. Looking back now, no wonder I couldn't get through these courses! I was being asked to do MUCH more than Julia Cameron thinks she's asking, because I'm not the default body she imagines when she's putting this course together. I don't think it's malicious, I just think it's a lack of thought.

The hardest thing about it (before you realise this course isn't designed with disability in mind) is that the course tells you "This may be tough, but stick with the discipline of it. It's worth it."

That may be true for folks without jelly joints, but this was NOT a worthwhile discipline for me. I threw myself against it again and again, and all it did was hurt me, wreck my mornings, and make me feel like a colossal failure.

So, if there are any fellow spoonies also struggling through The Artist's Way, let me share with you a few tweaks that myself and other spoonie friends have used, so that you can enjoy the challenge without it being impossible.

YOU DON'T NEED TO HANDWRITE YOUR MORNING PAGES. I give you permission. If you've tried it and it hurts, or it puts your body into a bad position, or it takes way too much time out of your day, TYPE THOSE MOTHERFUCKERS. I like to use a website called 750 Words which is inspired by the Morning Pages. It's a really simple writing space which gives you a confetti celebration on the screen when you hit the target, shows you your writing streak, and converts your daily mind-dump into beautiful data which I ADORE. 750 Words is free for the first month and then you pay after that, but it doesn't even need to be that complicated - just write in a Google Doc, or whatever writing space works best on your computer. As long as it's saved and stored in a way that you can find it, and it's not going to be easily accessed by others, you're doing great.

YOU DON'T NEED TO WRITE FIRST THING IN THE MORNING. My partner has ADHD and mornings are NOT his friend. He hasn't had his meds, he's often struggling from coming to bed late, it's just the absolute worst time for him. You know when IS a good time? Writing in the evenings. He loves doing that. Once he gave himself permission to sit down and write in the evenings, he didn't miss a day, and it became an awesome daily wind-down for him. If mornings are complicated for medication or insomnia or neutrodivergent reasons, experiment with writing at different times and see if you can find a time that better fits you. Being able to write regularly is more important than writing first thing.

IT DOESN'T NEED TO BE THREE PAGES. Buy a smaller notebook. Or buy a bigger one and write just one page. Choose your own word count on your digital doc. Set a timer and write until it goes, or write until YOU feel you're finished. This is your space. Find what works for you.

TREAT IT LIKE A SCIENCE EXPERIMENT. Everyone's different, and it might take a few goes to find exactly what works for you. So, by all means, try the Morning Pages as described to start with. But if you find that it doesn't work, rather than coming down hard on yourself for 'failing', treat the whole thing like a science experiment. So, it didn't work today. Why was that? What can I tweak to get a more consistent result? And then try that change for the next iteration. You don't have to keep bashing your head against it hoping for a different result. We spoonies have it hard enough. Mould this creative tool into one that fits your hands, your body, and your life.

[rhythmic-idealist]

I believe giving cash directly is most often the most impactful thing you can do.

One exception for myself, with what I have to offer, is giving out water bottles in the Los Angeles heat:

At the local Food4Less I can get three 40 packs of regular full-size water bottles for $19.60ish (including the CRV per bottle) - round that up to $20 for 120 water bottles (3 packs x 40 bottles).

Around here, the CHEAPEST you’re gonna buy an individual water bottle for is $1.25. Expect $1.75-$2.00, but let’s use the cheapest number.

Water bottles are a NEED. If I give someone a water bottle (and if they want and take it, obvs), then MOST of the time, that’s $1.25 they won’t need to spend later.

If I have $20 to spare, I can give 20 people $1, and let’s say they each find a quarter on the ground and can each go get a water bottle.

Or I can buy ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY water bottles, and give out for free water that would otherwise have cost….. if purchased individually…..

1.25 x 120 = 150

One-hundred and fifty dollars worth of individually purchased bottled water.

A friend did the math. When I buy the forty packs, I’m getting these bottles for 17 cents each.

I give cash when I’m able, no matter what else I’m doing. Lately I can’t most of the time—not because I have literally zero in the bank, but because there are major needs in my life that I need to be aware of and tending to. But whenever I do decide I have a dollar. For me, that’s about once or twice a week. I’m looking forward to when it’s more often again, but it is what it is.

Anyway, I wanted to share this because I think that it’s a really impactful thing a person can do, with not much funds, some time on their hands, and definitely a strong confidence in your ability to walk for a while in the sun.

I usually toss the water bottles in the freezer first and then let them sit out and start to thaw toward drinkable before going out, but today half of them hadn’t been in the freezer at all, and people appreciated them just the same.

As for how to do this! I put together some of my own experience to share, & what you do might vary in any number of ways, but here's a mixture of advice and just things I think.

Before going out:

Bring water for yourself. At least one if not two bottles. Also bring a snack. I suggest a hat and sunscreen.

Are you able to walk/safely move in the sun for a while, while carrying water bottles and whatever you need for yourself? The terrain might get uneven, depending on where you are.

Having a buddy is a good idea. I often don’t, but I did when I started and still do at times - it helps you be safe and helps you keep an eye on your own needs (are you overheating? do you need water? have you been walking too long? I frequently don’t notice these things without a buddy.)

If you don’t have a buddy to go with - first of all, be an adult. Or else go with a buddy.

Secondly: set a timer for water and sitting down breaks! And bring your fully-charged phone.

Running out of water bottles isn't what's gonna determine when you're done for the day. Heat, tiredness, and exertion will determine when you're done for the day. The one time I accidentally pushed past my own limits, I had actually only handed out water to about 5-7 people.

Go at a time of day when it is not dark, and not too early for people to want to be awake.

Having a car helps. It helps us drive the water there, and also helps us move between locations (maybe there are 10 people camping out on this side of the park and 10 more a few streets down).

Once actually out there:

Approach people from the front - if you’re behind someone you want to approach, walk around them in a wide arc. You are not trying to jumpscare anyone.

To approach a tent, don’t look inside. When I see a tent where I don’t see anyone outside but someone might be inside, I stop about 10 feet away and announce myself: “Hi! I have cold water bottles, do you want any? ¿Le gustarían unas botellas de agua?”

(I don’t speak Spanish. But that’s built off how I said “would you like any bags” at the grocery store, so I feel it must be close. It seems to be doing its job.)

Otherwise, just be personable and brief! My friend phrased it really well today: “People shouldn’t have to want to chat with you in order to get water.” I remind myself of that if I ever start to feel impersonal.

A potential script to loosely lead with: “Hi! I’m/my friend(s) and I are giving out water bottles today, do you want any?”

(I tend to give people 2 bottles each. This is fully up to you.)

I don’t generally wake people who are sleeping.* I do tend to leave a bottle or two. That’s up to personal preference.

Some people WILL want to tell you how their day has been. This whole handing out water bottles thing is something to do if you don’t mind lending an empathetic ear sometimes! It’s okay to excuse yourself in a friendly way though.

I learned this by going out first with an org that has experience - I definitely mimic a lot of mannerisms I saw there. I’m friendly, I treat people as equals without being overfamiliar, and I act like I’m talking to someone I met at a gathering at a friend’s house. Typical ways I respond to “thank you” include “totally/yeah of course - it’s so HOT lately” and the like. I usually part with a “take care!”

*(I HAVE had a situation, not when handing out water bottles but separately, where I come across someone who is sleeping in a very weird location, a very weird position, and without bedding, and it turned out that person was overdosing. We called emergency services, not recognizing what was happening but noting they were completely unresponsive, and someone got them Narcan. You obviously need to pace yourself with your level of panic about that. Usually, people are sleeping. But yes, it can be helpful and important to be the person who steps in, and it can be worth occasionally being mistaken. Everyone has different opinions about this. In my life, I’ve found it worth it on a couple occasions to wake someone and ask if they are okay - a person sleeping in a driveway who looked like they just fell there, for example.)

Things that could be a part of the above section, but I want to break this into another section anyway, to be readable, and I think you will get the gist of why they are grouped together.

I would call this section "emotional stuff":

Everyone you meet doesn’t need to like you, or be happy you came by. It’s okay, and you didn’t do any great wrong in the universe.

I’ve accidentally triggered someone’s PTSD by saying “hi” from behind him before he could see me (and sat with him and listened about it after, because that was within my boundaries with a stranger). I’ve stumbled through conversations where I couldn’t really understand what people were saying, and I’ve excused myself from conversations in ways that I think left some people feeling I don’t care very much. It’s still good that you went out. Everyone is gonna feel a different way about you, and that’s cool.

I often don’t process what people say the first time, I’m not very cool, and I don’t speak much Spanish. It’s alright. Life is just really awkward actually and so is every single conversation ever. You don’t have to worry about making your communication efficient.

People will say “God bless you.” You don’t have to say it back, but it might be helpful to you to figure out how you plan to reply to that!

Some closing thoughts that are among the most important to me:

Handle your boundaries the way you would with ANY stranger. Be kind, people are frequently having their worst days, and please give help wherever you can, just please know that you and any unhoused person you meet are in fact just two people. I wouldn’t play along with any untoward comments, for example, though I don’t let it mean I don’t give someone a water bottle. If someone is verbally attacking you I don’t expect you to give them a water bottle. You don’t have to let someone be racist at you, if that comes up. And so on. You understand me.

(For the record most people I’ve met are very cool though and very down to have a quick friendly “here’s a water bottle” convo. I’m just making sure you know! You’re interacting with a neighbor.)

You and the person you’re handing that water to are just two people! It’s chill and normal.

Anyway! There’s a thing I do. I hope this is helpful to someone! Please feel free to add to this post.

(Final note - I used the “$20 for 120 bottles” math since it was easy to explain, but I actually tend to only buy them 40 bottles at a time. That’s what works for me. I actually spent about $6.67 to get water that, if the bottles had been individually-purchased, would have cost $50.)

[achronichome]

My Coding Journey

as a chronically ill nana 👩‍🦳 🛌 💻 💊

I've been thinking about learning to code for a while now. It's a skill that I could use in many ways to benefit my family and others. The problem is my chronic illness symptoms get in the way of everything. Trying to code while face down on the keyboard probably wouldn't work. On the other hand, if I wait until I "feel better" I won't achieve anything.

So, I've decided to record my journey of learning to code while maintaining my baseline. Hopefully it'll keep me on track and help someone else in my situation.

Day 1: 🥄🥄

I only looked after the grandcritter for an hour, with the husband's help, so I had a tiny bit of energy to Do Things with. I hoarded it at first, doing what I call Productive Rest, listening to YouTube videos while crocheting a new snack mat for my desk.

One of the videos I watched lit a fire under my 🍑 -- How I Learned to Code in Six Months and Got a Job Offer by Smoljames. He laid it all out very clearly and concisely, with the steps he took, where he oopsed, and what he did right. He fast tracked his coding education, but the video got me thinking that maybe I can slow it down while still making progress. I listened to it a couple of times, then dragged myself upright and took action.

Step one, sign up for GitHub. And right away I ran into a problem. I didn't receive the verification email. I had it re-sent, and still nothing. I squinted at the form and yep, in my brain fog I misspelled my email address. Irkitating, but fixable. But fixing it took my spoons and chucked them down the garbage disposal unit.

Long rest, during which I hung out with my husband, finished the snack mat, took care of the grandcritter again, and gathered my spoons. Then I set a timer for twenty minutes to prevent sitting long enough to flare my arthritis, and moved on to...

Step two, I signed up for FreeCodeCamp.org. I meant to just poke around, but before I knew it the timer went off and I was 15% through the first lesson. The dopamine! I didn't want to stop! But part of the point is doing this while staying within my current baseline.

Day 2: 🥄🥄🥄

I didn't sit down to code until late, and spent the entire twenty minutes stuck on one problem because of a 🤬 typo in the example they gave me. (Maybe learning to code during Mercury Retrograde wasn't my brightest idea.)

Day 3: 🥄

And now there's no example, or instructions even. Thankfully I found the answer on the forum and got it on my second actual attempt.

Either the instructions are vague/nonexistent or my brainfog is bad. I couldn't figure out the next one, either. We're told to do the thing but now how to do the thing. But there was an article on the site.

That's how it is now? Bugger. Maybe it's building on the previous lessons in ways I haven't been able to see? Part of the problem is it's all typing, and I learn best with a pen in my hand. I need to figure out how to proceed.

On the plus side I'm getting a streak going, of spending twenty-ish minutes a night studying coding.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Love in a Ghost Town: Part 5--Mirror, Mirror On The Wall

Eddie Munson’s become content with working his day job. After the crazy stretching of events from 1983-1986, Eddie’s grateful for a little bit of normal in his life.

That is until one day, Valeria Browns shows up in town looking for a quick car fix. And she’s more than he might’ve bargained for on the eve of Valentine’s Day. Valeria is just trying to enjoy her Valentine’s Day weekend after many years of being perpetually single. She has her fun, but it’s never serious. Maybe Eddie can change some of that.

Older!Mechanic!Eddie Munson. 2003 alternative universe. BlackFem! OC.

The Upside Down doesn’t exist in this fic. But strange things do happen to the town of Hawkins, Indianna. Major Character Death that is not canon as a result of the non-Upside Down AU.

Feel free to view my masterlist here

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6 | Part 7

CW: Implied Self-Harm & Depression within the chapter. If you are sensitive to these topics, please proceed with caution.

Edited Picture of Eddie is from @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

__________________________________

“When did you do all this?” Eddie flops down into the chair at the dining room table.

Valera has plates set out already alongside placemats, forks, knives, spoons, cups. It’s stuff she’d found in the cabinet and drawers. A habit of hers when she’s hosting others, ensuring that the table was always set to perfection. A habit garnered from her grandmother’s raising. Valeria would rather be caught dead ass out than have her grandmother find out she’d cooked for someone and didn’t properly set the table. She hadn’t thought it was too much but now she worries it’s a little over the top. She can’t do anything about it now. It’s done. The table’s set. 

“There’s a lot of hours between two and seven,” Valeria shrugs. 

“So what’s on the menu tonight, chef?”

“Baked chicken, yellow rice, roasted asparagus to avoid too much of a slimy texture. The chicken still needs like ten more minutes. I put it in right before getting you.”

Eddie whistles, a wiggle to his brows. “I thought we’d said thank you already.”

“There’s no strings on this, Eddie. It’s just--I wanted to do something nice.”  

The words halt Eddie. He’d been peeling himself out of the coveralls, one arm free and then he stopped. Now he’s stuck between pulling his other arm free and letting it reside inside of the sleeve. “No strings? There’s always strings,” Eddie whispers. 

Valeria shakes her head. The words burn on her tongue: You deserve nice things just because. Not because you can give something. But Valeria swallows it down. She’d pushed that button once before and it hadn’t gone well. “I’m not-I’m sorry if I overstepped. Food will be done soon.”

It’s all Valeria can say. It’s all she should say; anything more and she’d be picking a fight. So Valeria turns back to the stove. The rice and asparagus were covered before Valeria left. They’re still warm as far as she can tell. From the hallway, Valeria can hear the shower start up. There’s nothing to do but wait. So Valeria sits, nails clicking as she works through what should happen next. Should she further apologize? She hadn’t meant to imply anything. It wasn’t in her mind that more might be implied. 

“I’m sorry.”

Valeria lifts her gaze and Eddie stands, hair wet on his shoulders, arms folded across his chest. Valeria exhales her words,  “I should’ve asked first. If it was okay.”

He shakes his head. “It is. It is okay. I just--I shouldn’t have assumed.”

The chicken shaped timer shrills between them. Valeria goes to stand up but Eddie stops her with a raise of his head. He shuffles over, turns the oven off and pulls out the baking sheet. There’s another stretch of silence between them, just the click of the metal pan against the top of the stove. 

“You were right,” Eddie states. “I do dismiss myself. Because it’s easier. I have a lot of people who do care about me. But I never know what to do with it. I guess I’m so used to people wanting something from me. It’s easier if they want something you know. I can give that.”

“But if no one wants something?” Valeria asks. 

Eddie pushes away from the stove. “I don’t know how to do that. People who just want me. Steve, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, the kids--they all sort of force themselves into my life. It’s easier if people force it. To choose it? No, not going to happen. I want it. But I can’t. I can’t choose that.”

“Can’t choose it?” Valeria probes. His eyes are misty again. Now she sees it. It’s fear. Eddie is terrified of what it means to let himself choose to let someone in. 

“When people force their way in, they already care. They don’t care if you don’t believe it.” 

“So you’re scared? You’re scared to let someone in.”

“People leave. Either they die or they choose to leave. If I choose someone and they leave me--what would have been the point?”

“To have loved and to have been loved.”

Eddie’s face shows how much he doesn’t believe Valeria’s words. And it makes sense. Why would Eddie ever believe her? She’s just a stranger. Sometimes Valeria doesn't halfway believe the words herself. “Sounds like you might’ve found my stash,” Eddie huffs. It sounds like it’s meant to be a laugh but it’s humorless in all reality as it falls from his throat. 

Valeria holds her hands up in defense. “I just have one question, Eddie. I swear I don’t really want to argue with you. But I’m curious about one thing.”

Eddie gestures for her to continue. “What’s that one thing?”

“Do you actually want someone to change your mind? Do you want someone to convince you to give love a shot? Or are you just looking for someone to pity you? To give you what you want--a fuck when you want it, but never forcing you to confront your fears?”

It’s a heated stare. Valeria pushes up from the table. She’d pushed the envelope. It would probably blow up in her face. But Valeria’s prepared for the fire. Will this be the actual death sentence? Wouldn’t it just be fitting not to die by being a new face in a small town but by being an asshole who doesn’t know when to give up? 

“You don’t fight fair,” Eddie quips. “You really don’t fight fucking fair. One more question my ass. Don’t want to argue--fuck off with that.”

It’s true anger. But Valeria doesn’t think it’s going to get her into a physical altercation. Valeria doesn’t even think Eddie would raise a fist, or his voice. He might curse her out but he’s remained in front of the stove the entire time. Valeria crosses the kitchen, nudging Eddie out of the way with her hip. He goes, willingly, sliding down so he’s in front of the sink. “Is it not a fair question?”

Eddie exhales hard. “What do you want to drink?”

“Just going to take water, from the tap,” Valeria returns, plating the chicken breasts for them. 

“It’s a fair question,” Eddie admits, staring down at his plate of food. They’d set the rest of the table in utter silence. Eddie seethed. Valeria held her smug grin. And now, sitting down, it’s like the food is the mirror Eddie can actually face. Maybe looking Valeria in the face, having her voice the question was a double whammy. Someone who had wanted the fun time, but also to be nice--the two weren’t mutually exclusive for her, but they were for Eddie. 

“I don’t like that you asked it,” Eddie admits, stabbing at the piece of chicken on his plate with his fork. “But it is a fair question.”

“So besides me, how was the rest of your day?” Valeria asks. 

“You were the highlight and also the pain in my ass. The donuts were much appreciated today; thanks.”

“We call that the two-for-one special.”

Eddie snorts, working down his bite before he speaks. “You make it up to the mall?”

Valeria nods. She’s gotten direction from Robin after dropping off the candy. A mall is a mall--when one’s visited one of them, they’ve seen them all. It doesn’t help that Valeria works most of her days in one. “Can I say any mall has lost its charm?”

“Your store is in a mall?” Eddie asks. 

“Sure is.”

“So would I be right in assuming you most definitely did not step foot into The Gap here then?”

“Oh, dear Eddie, you would be so correct in that assumption.”

“I’ll put a word in with the mall’s board of directors to get something else in there for you,” Eddie teases. 

“It’s appreciated.”

The conversation slows from there. Eddie compliments the food, but there’s a clear focus on actually consuming the food in front of them. Valeria’s shocked by how hungry she is considering how little she did in the day. But perhaps, it’s coupled in with the fact that she’d normally have eaten by now, or at least had more in the way of snacks. Valeria had gotten a little side tracked in the mall, rifling through some CD’s. It was worth the time suck as she’d scored a few albums that she needed to replace. Her copies were scratched and skipping terribly, but still the scouring cost time. 

Valeria finishes her food first, but remains seated to wait for Eddie. When his fork and knife clink against the plate, Valeria stands. Eddie pushes up immediately after her. “I’ll wash the dishes,” he states. “I think it’s the least I can do after all this.”

Valeria considers the envelope fully pushed, but not burst. She won’t risk it. Instead she nods, and starts to assemble the dishes, wiping them clean, scraping off the remnants of food, packaging up what’s left. The water of the sink is the loudest noise around them until Valeria goes to shower. 

________________________

The TV casts a blue glow over the living room. The couch sinks just a little with the weight of Valeria and Eddie, but it’s comfy. Valeria forfeited her guest privileges on picking the channel. She knew her obsessions with reality TV may not be well received and she really didn’t care what was on. Eddie settled on Cold Case. A shocking happy medium between the two of them. When Eddie glanced over, Valeria nodded, making a comment on how she always tried her best to keep up. It leaves them here, both post showers as Valeria digs into the bowl of popcorn they’re sharing. Both of them have eyes trained onto the TV as long as the show is on. 

“You seeing anyone?” Eddie questions during a commercial break. 

“Blunt,” Valeria snorts. But she’s sort of glad for the question. At least Eddie doesn’t seemingly hate her. 

“I’m doing research,” Eddie returns, grabbing a fistful of popcorn. 

“No,” Valeria answers with a shake of her head. “Not anymore.”

“Which explains the single’s trip near Valentine’s Day. Want to talk about it?”

Valeria looks over to Eddie now, turning away from the TV screen. He’s already looking at her, up through his lashes. “Classic story--one that starts with drinks at a bar, ends with cheating.”

“Sorry he was dick.”

“There were a lot of signs prior that I shouldn’t let her go. Just didn’t listen. Went on a little parade of enjoying people, whomever came my way.”

Eddie snorts, “Pun intended?”

Valera takes a sip at her glass--a Coke that Eddie insisted on putting in the wine glass just for her after she declined the alcohol. “You tell me.” 

“I’m going to say yes.” Eddie moves the bowl to the table, taking a hand to his hair. He then pulls it all back and takes the hair elastic from his wrist to pile the hair into a bun and secure it. “Are you looking for anything now? Relationship? Just sex?”

“I’m not getting younger,” Valeria admits. 

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Valeria swats at Eddie’s arm. He doesn’t dodge the hit, just takes it and when his hair is secure, brings the bowl of popcorn back into his lap. She shakes her head no at the invitation of the extended out bowl and then continues on, “I used to think I could just wait it out, you know? I’d find someone for me when I was supposed to. Most of my friends are married or have children. Not sure if I’m doing something wrong or if the right person hasn’t come along just yet.”

“You’re a catch! Albeit pushy, but still a good person! I’m sure everyone’s drooling over you.”

“Everyone includes you and Robin, hmm?” Valeria teases. 

Eddie groans, his cheeks turn a little pink. “That is so fucking embarrassing. But it is what it really is. I just mean anyone would be lucky to date you. From the limited exposure I have of course.”

“Everyone’s sweeter in smaller doses,” Valeria quips. “Part of me is worried. I did think I’d be married by now. With at least one kid.”

Eddie whistles at the confession. “How many do you want?”

“Just two,” Valeria answers. “What about you?”

“Thought I’d be dead at 30, so I guess I’m more shocked I’ve still got years left on this planet than anything.”

“Thought you’d be dead at 30? Or?” Valeria doesn’t want to say it. The scars on his forearms could’ve been from anything. But a few trailed closer to his wrist. Valeria’s not intimately familiar, but she does know. 

“Or,” Eddie answers, turning to face Valeria again. “Or in my case.”

He doesn’t offer more and Valeria doesn’t ask for it. Instead there’s just their shared gaze, a silence that seems to know everything that they don’t say. Someone found him. Something in the universe kept him alive. The TV’s clearly switched back to the show. But they don’t break eye contact. 

“I think,” Eddie starts, head tilting to the side just a little. “I think I’d start with one kid and I managed not to fuck that one up, I’d go for a second one. Having a sibling seems like it’s not such a terrible experience.”

“My uncles told me they’re sad I’m the only kid. They have many stories about literally beating the shit out of each other and then if someone else got into the mix immediately shifting gears and throwing blows at the new person. I guess you could say the only person-when you have siblings-that can pick on you is your sibling. Nothing quite like it.”

Eddie snorts. “If looking after Red and Dustin and their friends proves anything like parenthood for teens at least, maybe I’m good without it.”

“Looking after?”

“She lives out in the trailer park too. Dad left when she was younger. Mom’s in and out of her life now that’s older. Steve used to babysit. Can you believe that? He used to babysit Dustin when Ms. Claudia absolutely needed it. Steve, I think, is fond of the whole group but him and Dustin have something I don’t think I’ve seen with anyone else. Dustin’s dad passed away right after he was born. Steve and Dustin are the closest things to siblings without being blood related. As Dustin made friends, he’d rope Steve into their antics when Dustin knew he couldn’t ask his mother. So Steve becomes a big brother to Dustin in a way and then by extension like a mother hen. Robin and Steve meet Scoops.”

“Ice cream shop?” Valeria questions. 

“Yeah. In the old mall before it burned down. Robin and I knew each other from middle school and were sort of close. But she landed in the band geeks and I landed as cult leader, supposedly. But we sort of ran in different circles. She and I would catch up occasionally. We’d talked shit about Steve and how he used to be back in high school.”

“Jock, untouchable,” Valeria tacks on. 

“Exactly. But then Robin would tell me about how Steve was with the kids. I needed to see that shit for myself. So Robin knew Steve’s taking the kids to the state fair and I decided that’s my chance to see Mother Hen Steve in action. I ‘accidentally’ run into them. There’s like eight thousand kids hanging from Steve.”

Valeria snorts. “If I do my math right, I’m only counting four.”

“Will had passed by then. So there’s Lucas, Mike, Dustin, Red, and Erica. Erica is Lucas’ younger sister.”

“So five, not eight thousand.”

“Details, details, Valeria.” Eddie swats his hand in front of his face as if to clear the cloud of details out of the way. “You’re asking an ancient being to do some hard math here. Anyway, that’s how I meet the kids. Dustin finds out I DM Dungeons and Dragons and wants to know everything about the current campaign. This little snot is like eight, nine max. But he wants to know so I cave. I brought him very occasionally after school to some sessions to drop in as a playable character. When he wasn’t there, I had to pick him up so we could chat about what happened. Again, none of this shit really matters. But it’s during this state fair that I realize Red lives a few trailers off so I drop her off.

“Ever since then I’ve sort of just kept my eye out on her. Give her rides to school if her Mom was gone or just not in any state to drive. Sometimes I’d pick her up. Learned to do a mean fishtail braid for her. I mean, I’m good--pigtails, french braids, fishtails, I got it.”

“We’ll know if you got it if you can do a cornrow.”

Eddie takes a glance in the direction of her nails, pointing the braids tight to her scalp. He grins. “I’m a fast learner, that’s for sure. But yeah, between her and Wayne, I was sort of just in caretaker mode. Have been for a while.”

“Sounds like at 30 you were really just looking for someone to take care of you after what you started doing for her and Wayne.”

It’s at that--another observation that Valeria sees so plainly and feels ballsy enough to utter that makes Eddie crack. He looks down to the space between them. The shared blanket holds the shape and bend of Valeria’s knee, the flat of the couch cushion, and the beginning of Eddie’s thigh. There’s just inches between them. 

“Did it again, didn’t I?” Valeria asks. 

“I’m starting to think you’re my Robin,” Eddie laughs. It’s a little bit more wet with humor. Most likely, it’s the tears that are filling his lower lash lines that Valeria spots that make his voice thicker. 

“I’m lost in the sauce,” Valeria whispers. “Is this a good thing?”

“Robin and Steve--they’re like bookends. They just get each other. Not a lot of effort. Like you sort of get me. And the more you get me, the more I get you.”

“Maybe I am your Robin. But I’d hate to know what you think about me. I know it’s not all pretty.”

“I think you like helping others so you don’t actually have to confront whatever it is that’s going on with you. It’s easier to help others than help yourself.”

Valeria huffs. “You’re not wrong.”

“If it wasn’t just the deaths of your parents, I’m sure it’s definitely something else alongside it. There is an extensive history with cops though. Enough so that you don’t like them and the place you lived after your parent’s death, was it the dealer? That you mentioned earlier?”

“If we’re playing BINGO, you’ve got a ‘B’ and an ‘I’. Looking for the whole word?” 

Eddie places a hand on Valeria’s knee over the blanket, giving in a squeeze. “I’m sure I’d get some of it wrong. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not about him,” Valeria confesses. Definitely not about him. Valeria’s sure he’s the spot in her life that everything sort of unraveled for her. She wanted him. He wanted her. But she knew it was bad. Didn’t mean it stopped her. She’d still snuck out when she could at night. She still danced in the fire. She still got burned, staring down barrels she shouldn’t have been looking down. Still got covered in blood she shouldn’t have been covered in. Blood that maybe would’ve still been spilled--she had no hands in who owed who what kind of money. But still, Valeria was supposed to go to a sleepover and she hadn’t. She instead became a witness. 

“Hey, no, it’s okay. You don’t have to,” Eddie reassures. 

His palms are warm. Valeria follows that warmth and slowly blinks back to the living room. The TV. The show. The popcorn. Eddie. 

“Welcome back,” Eddie laughs. 

“Hi,” Valeria whispers.

“You good?”

She can only manage another nod, for a moment. Her voice is soft. “You’re close. Not him, but my ex used to say I don’t let others help too easily. She said it made her feel like I didn’t trust her. And I did trust her. Up until a point.”

“When you suspected cheating?”

Valeria nods. “Intuition can be a bitch sometimes.”

“But it can save us too. Too damn good at it at times.”

“Dustin?” Valeria questions. “Did he save you both times?”

Eddie nods. It’s slow to come--the nodded confession. Eddie’s jaw falls open, but nothing comes out. He closes it once, exhales deeply. His second attempt to get the words out is just as silent as the first. Just as Valeria can work up the nerve to tell Eddie doesn’t have to go there, he’s speaking again. Third time really is the charm. His palms are still cupping her cheeks. “What can I say? Kid’s got killer instincts. If you’re looking for the full word, I think you got bingo ages ago.”

Valeria shakes her head. “I only think I’m up to the ‘G’. Occasionally, I can fight fair.”

“Only occasionally, I bet. Right?”

“When it’s fair to do so.”

Eddie snorts. “It’s fair all the time to do it.”

Valeria only shrugs. “It’s like you said, I didn’t grow up in a nice part of town. Only fight fair when it’s the fair thing to do. And most of the time, it’s not. Someone else always has the advantage.”

Eddie’s hands disappear under the blanket. Valeria’s watching, but her gaze is out of focus. Not much has come to her in the form of advantage. When fingers find the bend of her knee and tug, she gives in, sliding herself across the cushion. Now her chest pressed into Eddie’s arm. He’s quick to sling the arm pressed into her around her shoulders. “No disadvantages here.” 

It sounds like a promise. No disadvantages here. 

Valeria wants the words to taste like it too, but Eddie’s attention has turned back to the TV. He’s warm, his hand soothing up and down her back. Valeria drops her forehead to Eddie’s ribs. His heart beats against her forehead. No disadvantages here. The thump, thumpity, thump of Eddie’s heart still echoes through her bones. I told you, I’m just charging for parts. Thump, thumpity, thump. The more you get me, the more I get you.

The question burns on her tongue. How can Eddie never be receptive to nice things, to tenderness when it’s directed to him but give it so freely? How could Valeria do it? How had they survived this long with bleeds still running? Would they ever stop? Valeria’s crying before she realizes. The tears are slipping down her cheeks and falling down her chin. Some hit the couch cushions, some of it falls into the hip of Eddie’s pants. 

Valeria presses her hand into his hip, bringing her head up. With the back of her hands, she’s able to swipe the tears from her cheeks. “Hey, Eddie,” Valeria starts. She doesn’t need to. He’s already turning to her, hand coming up to her cheek. 

“Yeah? You okay?”

“I need you to promise me something.”

Eddie’s already sighing, like somehow he might’ve known this was coming from her. “I’m not great with promises.”

“Just this one from me,” Valeria returns. Maybe if she gets him to promise it, then it means it’ll have to come true. Wouldn’t that be a true miracle at the end of their story if she gets him to promise?

“Let me hear what it is first,” Eddie laughs, using his thumbs to wipe her cheeks. 

“I need you to promise first.” It falls apart if he doesn’t promise first. “If I tell you first, and you don’t promise it’s worthwhile. Do you trust me?”

Eddie sighs, forehead resting against hers. “If I didn’t trust you, you absolutely would not be in my house. But I know you’re going to make me promise something I can’t fulfill. You believe in me too much.”

Maybe it’s worthless anyhow. They’d always be who they are and change doesn’t happen just in one weekend or just because of one person. Change would take time. Change would take their own desire for forward momentum. It feels childish really. But still Valeria thinks the world would give people like her and Eddie comfort. It would give in some way to allow them peace. 

“You don’t believe in yourself enough,” Valeria laughs. It’s not because it’s funny. It’s because there was the damn mirror again between them. A mirror based in brown irises and black pupils for each of them. 

There’s a long silence. Eddie’s forehead is still pressed to hers. His hands are cupping her face. Valeria’s holding onto his elbows. But there’s nothing until Eddie speaks, “I promise.”

“You promise to accept kindness without question. You promise that before you know it love gets easier to accept because you tell yourself you deserve it.” It’s a lot to ask. Some might say too much and Valeria knows that. It’s still worth a shot though. 

Eddie nods. “I promise.” It falls out choked, but still audible. 

“Does it feel like a nail in the coffin?”

“More than you realize, Valeria.”

The thing Valeria is sure that neither of them really realize when she wakes in Eddie’s bed, sheets covering her bare skin, is that there are many more nails that can go into the coffin. And the right person can pry them loose if allowed. Valeria’s not sure if Eddie promising is his consent for her to pry one nail loose for the one she nailed in. But she likes to think so. 

“No cold pancakes today,” Eddie teases when Valeria joins him in the kitchen. His torso is bare. The red lines from yesterday morning are fading. But there are a few marks from last night still lingering on his shoulders. As he turns with a steaming mug in hand, the hickies Valeria sucked into his skin are fading. A couple are hard to see in the distance thanks to the ink. 

“Need help?” Valeria asks, shuffling forward.

“Almost done. Sleep okay?”

Valeria nods around her sip and once it’s down replies verbally, “Like a baby. You?”

“Like a baby,” he echoes. 

Their breakfast goes by with laughter. Valeria regails some stories of her time playing softball. Eddie recounts the shows he used to play at The Hideout. It’s easy. There’s no indication on what makes this morning easier. Valeria knows that in reality by tomorrow she’ll be gone. Headed back to her life almost as if nothing had ever happened. Perhaps this is what makes it easier. They don’t have to do more than ride out the rest of the day. They don’t have to do anything more than just exist as they always have. 

Valeria swipes Eddie’s keys from the dining room table. His boots make a heavy thud as he walks up the hallway. “Anywhere else I should explore?” Valeria asks as Eddie collects the lunch pail--Wayne’s--and the thermos that she set out. 

“It’s Hawkins. Not Indy,” Eddie laughs. 

“Don’t remind me.”

“Did you find the lake?”

“There’s a lake?” Valeria asks. She doesn’t recall seeing many signs about a lake. Though Valeria knows she gets a little direction blind. When she has somewhere to go she focuses on just getting there safely.

Eddie nods. “Lovers Lake.”

Valeria cringes at the name. “I have a feeling I’m going to run across horny teenagers and as much as I think people are free to do what they want within reason, I am not looking to stumble across bare asses of children.”

Eddie slings his arm around her shoulder. “Yeah, there is that risk. Then, I’m afraid you’ve seen it all.”

Valeria’s content with that. A small town is a small town at the end of the day. But if she had more to do other than what’s already there then she’d definitely make it a priority. “Any particular requests for dinner?”

“Yeah, actually, I do,” Eddie starts, opening the driver side door for Valeria. The February chill is softer today than previously. It’s still cold, but not terribly so, not like the second day Valeria was here. She’s sure her perception of her first day is entirely warped. Valeria climbs in, with a bit of a grunt because it does take more for her to get up into the truck than her car. “That it be my treat,” Eddie concludes. He leans up against the door molding of the truck, watching Valeria get herself buckled in. “How does pizza sound? It is Friday.”

“Are pizza Fridays a ritual for you?”

“Something like that. And look,” Eddie holds up the lunch pail, “I’ll have had a balanced lunch.”

Valeria snorts. “Pizza sounds like a lovely way to end the day.”

“Sweet.” Eddie’s grin goes from ear to ear. “Because I most definitely was getting pizza either way.”

Valeria laughs. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have expected much else.” Navigating out of the trailer park and onto the main roads is easy--something Valeria’s ingrained into her mind already given the amount of times she’s gotten in and out of it. “So where do you normally go to get pizza around here?”

“No, absolutely not. If I tell you, you’ll go and get it before getting me. I’m not giving you that information.” The radio station changes. Valeria doesn’t argue with the switch given it is Eddie’s truck. More guitars shred through the speakers. “I know you.”

“Because you would do it?” 

“Absolutely I would.” 

“Fine. I’ll go find Lucas or Max or Dustin. Don’t make me go to Steve,” Valeria threatens. She assumes that Steve would know Eddie’s routines. She’d rather Eddie just tell her. So she hopes the threats make Eddie cave. They pull into a spot outside the shop. Eddie digs out his wallet from his pocket and peels out a twenty from the bifold. He holds it out between his fingers. 

“Pepperoni, extra cheese. 2-liter Mountain Dew. If Ma is there, she will throw in mozzarella sticks. Take them.”

“How do I know if Ma is there?” Valeria cautiously takes the bill. 

“Oh, you’ll know.”

“And the name of the place?” Valeria questions.

Eddie grins, sliding across the seats. “Ask Dustin, or Lucas, or Steve. See you at 7.” Valeria’s not sure why she expected much else from Eddie. Perhaps Eddie might be right that they are something to each other, even if they are a pain in each other’s asses. Just like yesterday, she waits until Eddie’s safe inside the building, flicking on lights. Gareth pulls in two spots down from her. She gives a wave this time and then pulls out of the spot.

It’s really stupid. As much as she hates this place, what it’s supposed to represent, what’s happened to her in buildings like this, Valeria knows the only person who would give her a straight up answer would be here in this building. There’s a tan truck, one Valeria is pretty sure means Steve is here. The doors aren’t heavy as she swings them open. Stale coffee and the smell of cigarettes hits her nose. 

“How can I help you dear?” An older woman is at the front desk--a smile paints her face in a way that Valeria knows only comes from age. 

“Uh, this is sort of ridiculous. But is Steve Harrington around?”

“Oh, yeah, the Chief’s in. What did you need him for hon?” 

It’s so stupid. “I had-I had a question for him.”

The woman nods, reaching down for the phone. “Chief. Young lady here needs to speak with you.” Valeria and the older woman share a smile. She presses a hand over the receiver. “What’s your name dear?”

“Valeria.”

She nods. “Thank you.” As she uncovers her hand, the woman repeats Valeria’s name to Steve. They’re only on the phone for a few seconds longer and then the older woman directs her attention fully to Valeria. “He’ll be out in just a second. Can I get you anything in the meantime?”

Valeria shakes her head. “I’m okay. Thank you.” It’s okay. You’re just here about pizza. Somehow the truth doesn’t settle Valeria’s heart. She paces, clicking nails together. It’s just one question. She’d been in and out of the building in five minutes, less if that.

“You okay, Valeria?”

Steve’s hair flops down into his face as he peers down at her. Valeria takes a slight step back, but nods. “It’s sort of a stupid question,” she begins. Steve slips his hands from his waist and then they fall behind his back.

“Can’t be all that stupid for you to come this way. You’re okay though, right? No trouble from anyone?”

Valeria nods. “Yeah, I’m okay.” Though Steve probably means it sincerely, Valeria doesn’t really need the confirmation about the type of folks in this town. She’d already stopped looking so much over her shoulder 

“Good. I’m glad. What’s this question?” 

It’s just about pizza. In and out. But all the words are stuck in Valeria’s throat for a moment. She inhales deeply to steady her nerves. “It’s stupid really. It’s probably easier ways but Eddie’s not cracking.” 

Steve nods, leaning now against the wall. His face lifts in a tiny smile. “So it’s about Eddie.” 

Valeria nods. “Yeah. Do-do you know where he gets his pizza from? I offered to cook dinner again and he refused that idea.” 

A small crease forms between Steve’s brows. “And he told you he wanted pizza but didn’t tell you where?”

“It’s stupid. I’m sure there’s only so many places to get pizza in town.” It’s stupid to come here too. It’s stupid for Eddie to challenge her but alas they’re all here now. “I’m sorry,” Valeria starts. “There’s plenty more things you need to be doing. Sorry.” 

Valeria starts for the door. She can’t even explain to herself why she’d come here. There was Robin. Maybe the kids would’ve known. But Valeria had decided to come to Steve and know she’s kicking herself for the decision. 

“Benny’s. Pepperoni. Extra cheese. It’s more towards the outskirts of town. Let me get you the directions,” Steve answers. 

It’s enough to pause Valeria part way out the door. “I think I can find it,” she returns. “Thank you. For the name.”

Steve points over his shoulder. “I’m serious about the directions. It’s not easy to get to if you don’t know where you’re going.”

“I’ll be okay, Steve.”

“Is it the uniform?” Steve questions. “Or has Eddie tried to brainwash you into thinking I cheat during Monopoly?”

“You-you don’t want to go down this road,” Valeria returns. Her voice is firm. It’s not that she doesn’t want to get to know Steve or give him the benefit of the doubt. But there’s too much bad history with establishments like this. It’s not individually Steve. It’s collective. It’s the fact that he may not ever see it like she does. Not because he can’t. But because he’d only ever get a portion of it. Steve would never fully understand. No fault of his own of course. “Eddie speaks highly of you. I’m sure if I were to talk to Dustin, or Robin, or Lucas, or Max, they’d have something similar to say too. I’m sure Hopper, who you took over for, would sing you literal praises. It’s not you. But you don’t want to go down this road.” 

“I know city cops. I know what they do. I wish I could change that for you.”

“You don’t,” Valeria returns. It leaves her lips with nearly a hiss following it. “You don’t know anything about me or what it’s been like for me.”

Steve nods. “You’re right,” he adds softly. “That was a poor attempt at words. I’m sorry. I see it though. I see what they are capable of.”

Valeria’s hold tightens on the bar to the door. “Thank you for the name, Steve. I don’t think there’s anything I’m capable of hearing right now.”

“Fair--that’s fair. Thank you for being honest. Also if Ma is working at Benny’s tonight and you order, she’ll throw in--”

“Mozzarella sticks. Eddie warned me about her.” Valeria looks over her shoulder. “Eddie’s the one who cheats in monopoly?”

“All the time,” Steve huffs, a tiny grin appearing on his face. “All the fucking time.”

“Don’t let him be the banker.”

“He throws a fit if I try to be the banker.”

Valeris shrugs. “Maybe you just need to let him through a fit.”

____________________________

Steve’s directions are what Valeria could’ve only imagined to get--like his mind is linked to Expedia. Right on Main. Follow it for 2 miles. Left turn on Cherry Road. Follow it for half a mile. And so on down to the exact mile. At the bottom it’s scribbled down how long it’ll take for the pizza to cook too. It’s worth it to leave Eddie’s place and ensure the pizza doesn’t go cold. Benny’s is packed. Not that Valeria could’ve gauged how many people in town would be here. But she clutches to the note scribbled down in Steve’s handwriting, praying that even in the madness he’s right. 

“Looking for a table?”

Valeria turns to find an older woman, salt and pepper hair dyed a light blue at the ends. It’s clear she’s older given by the wrinkles on her neck. But she carries herself like a woman closer to Valeria’s age. Her smile is bright. “To-go order, if that’s okay?”

“Course it is, darlin’. What can I do you for?”

“Large pizza. Pepperoni. Extra cheese.”

“What else?” she grins. 

Valeria takes in the smack of gum between her teeth and then carries down the white t-shirt to the nametag, Ma. “That’s all.”

“You sure? We got the best damn mozzarella sticks in town. I bet.”

Valeria nods. “I’m sure. Thank you.”

“Oh alright. Follow me and I’ll get this in to the kitchen.” Ma leads Valeria through the tables and up to the counter. A few bodies line the counter plates filled with burgers and sandwiches. “Won’t be long. Want a drink while you wait?”

Valeria declines the offer. Around her there’s a crackle followed by the soft whine of guitars. She can’t tell if it’s the radio or jukebox in a corner, but the soft melody only comes to the surface of the noise in waves. The laughter and chatter swallow the music most of the time that Valeria waits. It’s warm at the counter. The kitchen’s probably boiling, but Valeria can see the line cooks laughing as their spatulas cut and flip. They’re conversation is inaudible. There’s only the curve of their lips. It doesn’t even seem to matter what they’re discussing, the orders scribbled down on Ma’s pad keep lining the window. 

“Large pep. Extra cheese. Order of Mozzarella sticks,” Ma states, sliding the box and bag over the counter. 

“How much for the sticks?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, hon.” Ma winks at Valeria taking the twenty stretched out. As the change is counted, Valeria slips a five from her own wallet into the tip jar. It’s the least she can do. 

Pushing into the door with her back, Valeria is careful as she exits. The moment the door closes all the sound is swallowed up. It’s just the night. A chill runs down Valeria’s spine. This is not what she expected, a strange sense of loss. It is alive in the diner, and so cold and still outside. Valeria ponders if the town was growing on her, if it was somehow crawling up from the level of a weird town with a haunting past into a town that she could find it possible to have a fondness for. 

Eddie’s truck rumbles beneath Valeria, the tires taking the gravel of the parking lot with ease. It’s clear the diner’s been here long before the new roads and rather than pave it, the owners have let the place keep its old school charm. Valeria follows the opposite turns until she’s back on the main roads. From there it’s only a few minutes to Eddie’s shop. She pulls up and into a slot just as the clock ticks over to 7 on the radio. 

Eddie’s securing the front doors, Gareth and a couple of other guys are just slipping into their cars too. It’s dark, but with the cut of headlights, Valeria can see Eddie’s smile. “Did you figure it out?” he asks. 

“Hop in and find out,” Valeria laughs. 

Eddie, thankfully, does not need to be told twice. He jogs over to the passenger side and there on the floor is the box and bag with Benny’s logo staring back at him. “Oh, who told you?” he asks climbing into the truck. 

“Thank the Chief,” Valeria answers, waiting for the click of Eddie’s seatbelt before she gets the truck into gear to reverse. 

“You willingly went to Steve?”

“You gave me no choice,” she laughs, pulling into a stop right at the mouth of the parking lot. When she’s sure it’s clear she pulls onto the road. 

“I didn’t think you’d choose Steve. Thought you might wait for me,” Eddie returns. 

“I’m a bear with small brains. Can’t really read between the lines.”

His laughter is sharp. “Don’t believe that for a second. You’re just stubborn.”

“Aren’t those the same thing?” 

“For us, they might be.”

Valeria grins, pulling to a stop at the light. For them, stubbornness is always the name of the game. Life is never fun without a little bit of a challenge. Valeria wonders just how stubborn the two of them can be. “I have a question and you can say no,” she starts. “Can totally say no. I feel like I already know the answer, but I am curious.”

“I’m listening.” 

It’s all Eddie gives, but it’s enough. Valeria knows if she presses too hard, Eddie will let her know. “Did you press charges? Back when you got mobbed basically—did you do anything about it?”

“No. Like I said, I was dealing. If I pressed charges it was eventually going to come back why Chrissy was with me in the first place.” 

“And it was putting food on the table,” Valeria concludes. Survival was probably more important than justice at the moment. Long term survival meant Eddie needs to keep making money. 

“She broke up with Jason a few months later. Jason is Liv’s dad.”

Small town gossip--a juicy being but Valeria knows more than just something to gape at, these were real people. There were real stakes with this information. “Does Liv know? Like who her dad is? I assume it might be hard to hide in a town this small.”

“Oh she knows. He helps out a little financially from what Chrissy tells me but she got cut off from her parents after getting pregnant and refusing to marry Jason. She hasn’t had much money to spare to get out of Hawkins. Jason left for college. Almost went pro and then got injured before he could. So he came back. Apparently he was married to somebody from college. Didn’t last once his chance at pro ball went south.” 

“Karma huh?” Valeria takes the turn into the trailer park with practiced ease now. 

“I feel bad for him now. He was a prick for sure but I think Jason got so caught up in status that it swallowed him. Like without status, Jason thinks he’s nothing but he’s not. I don’t know. Getting older’s made me realize how fragile life really is. I don’t know if he’ll ever get himself out of the hole.”

Valeria parks right outside the trailer. Both of them are still as if the seatbelts have fully restrained them. “I guess you could say that the older you get the wiser you get. Maybe. For some.” 

“Something like that.” 

The sentence releases them. Eddie unbuckles himself and Valeria follows suit. At the very least this is normal to them. This is known. “The part for your car came today.” Eddie takes the keys from Valeria and she takes the food in the exchange. “About an hour before we closed up shop and I didn’t want anyone rushing that. So it’s on the agenda first thing tomorrow.”

Valeria knows the news should bring her delight. And it does. She’s so fucking relieved to know that she won’t be stranded for too much longer. But her first thought is that leaving means she’ll actually be gone. She won’t be waking up to Eddie’s breakfast. She won’t feel so awkward which is a relief but she is saddened to have a close on her time with him so soon. “No one to force you to eat vegetables at least once a day.”

“I have Steve for that,” Eddie laughs. “And Red, and Sinclair, and Henderson. Buckley gives less of a shit but if Steve starts it, she’ll join in.”

“Now you can see it.”

“I made a promise,” Eddie huffs. “Because a certain someone insisted.”

Valeria grins. “Damn right I did.”

“Go nuts,” Eddie states gesturing to the food on the table, “I’m going to clean the grime off me first.” Valeria doesn’t really need the heads up. She’d learned his pattern already. Eddie would always shower before dinner. Valeria always showered after. Perhaps, it wasn’t Eddie’s normal routine. Or maybe it was. Either way, she was already comfortable in knowing he’d excuse himself. Valeria nods, toeing out of her shoes and heading into the guest room to shed the layers of the day. 

Her phone chimes as she’s in the middle of pulling her sweatshirt up over her head. It chimes again. When Valeria’s free from the cotton, she opens the two texts: Hope you’re safe.

 Let me know if you need anything. 

Both messages are from Chelsea. Valeria hadn’t called her or Tatianna. Valeria had connected with Tammie briefly for the daily check in. It felt nice to have someone who made it a part of their day to check in with her given the circumstances. The calls were growing shorter. It seemed the more Valeria regaled about her time here, the less Tammie worried. It didn’t make it all go away, but some portion of it lessened. It may have helped that Valeria always had time to answer. 

Thanks for checking in. I’m OK. It’s all Valeria feels she can say. Perhaps, in person it might be easier to see how much Chelsea means it. A text is something, but something in her gut makes it feel like it’s Tammie’s doing. Like maybe the only reason she picked up the phone is just to satisfy someone else, but not Valeria and not for herself either. 

Her phone shakes again. Okay to call?

Yes. It’s automatic. Or that’s what Valeria tells herself. They’d been friends since college. They’d been through heartbreaks together. It’s automatic to say yes. 

“Hey, Val.”

“Hey, Chels.”

Then silence--an awkward pause where Valeria’s not sure if she should ask Chelsea what had sparked the call. This is the space where words should be, and yet they are not. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t call before.”

There’s nothing else. No excuse, which would’ve been easy. Chelsea had a job, one kid, her fiance. Any of those could’ve been excuses and yet, Chelsea does not offer a single one of them as some sort of scapegoat. 

“I could’ve texted more,” Valeria offers. She could’ve. It’s the truth. 

“I don’t blame you. I’ve been not great at communicating.”

“Is everything okay?” Valeria questions. It’s soft. Like she’s not sure if Chelsea is offering this because she needs something or if she’s really sorry.

“Between us, probably not. In other regards of my life, yeah.”

Valeria exhales, “Oh.” It’s a lame response. But it’s all she can say around the shock. Chelsea isn’t not the type to own up to her mistakes. But she was never really blunt. Valeria was. 

“I think-I think I should start over. Val, I called today because I wanted to apologize. Tammie told us you were stranded in Hawkins the same day it happened. I think after you called her from the shop. And I worried, I did. I swear I did. But I didn’t take two minutes to send you a quick message or to call. I assumed, hoped, prayed maybe you’d be back on the road that same day. And you weren’t. But then Tammie said you were okay and you’ve always been smart and kept your wits about you. I figured if anyone of us were stranded in a small town and were to survive it, it would be you. But just hearing Tammie should’ve have sufficed like it did. We don’t have to talk every single day. We’ve got a lot of things going on in our lives. But two minutes. I couldn’t take two minutes when you needed it the most. I’m disgusted with myself. And I’m not calling you right now to throw a pity party and get you to forgive me. I just wanted you to know. I do care about you. I do love you. I’m sorry I fumbled it this time.”

The tears have choked Valeria. She settles onto the edge of the bed, swiping the back of her hand under her nose. With a blink more tears slip down her cheek. “I appreciate it, Chels. I do.”

“Thanks for hearing me out. I anticipated you ending the call about halfway through it.”

Valeria laughs and shakes her head though Chelsea can’t see it. “No, no I wouldn’t do that. I’d think about it though.”

“Do you have an ETA on car parts?”

“They-the parts just came in today. Should be fixed tomorrow.”

“You-you don’t have to answer this, but what’s the damage to your pockets?”

“I-I can handle it. Thanks, Chels.”

Chelsea hums, it vibrates through the receiver. “Yeah, no worries. You’re safe though, right?”

Valeria gives a nod, still clearing her cheeks of tears. “Yeah, I’m safe.”

“Good. Let me know when you’re up on the road, if-if it’s not too much.”

“I can do that.” Two minutes--that’s all it would take. It seems like an easy enough promise to keep. Their goodbyes come quietly. There’s no ‘love you’ punctuated like Valeria and Tamara do. But it’s still love. The clack of the phone echoes. Valeria still sat on the edge of the bed. She’s still in Eddie’s trailer. She’s still in Hawkins. 

A knock comes from the door and Valeria inhales before turning to the sound. “I swear if it’s not me crying, it’s you,” Eddie teases. 

“I’m okay,” Valeria states. The bed dips and she knows it’s Eddie settling down next to her. 

“You can be okay and cry. You can cry and not be okay,” Eddie returns. 

“You’re pizza’s going to get cold.”

“Are you really worried about the pizza or do you just need a moment?” 

His fingers are warm. Valeria curls her digits around his. “Just need a minute.” 

“Take all the minutes you need.” Eddie presses a kiss to the back of her hand before he leaves. It’s just Valeria again. There’s still anger. Of course it takes Valeria being stranded to open the light for Chelsea. Valeria’s not sure if she’s glad to finally have cracked the surface with Chelsea. Maybe time would tell. 

Valeria pushes off the bed and shuffles back into the front of the house. Eddie’s at the dining room table, box of pizza still closed, bag of mozzarella sticks still tied shut. There’s two paper plates set out. “I see you waited.”

“I see you only needed a minute.” Valeria sees in his gaze the question: What happened? “Chelsea called me.” 

Eddie’s untying the bag and Valeria’s popping the top to the pizza box. “Who’s that?”

“Friend of mine. She and I--we’ve been sort of on a thin rope. But she-she heard from Tammie about me being here and checked on me.”

“That rope a little thicker now?”

“Maybe,” Valeria returns, dropping two slices onto her plate. “Maybe. Only time will tell.”

Tagging: @munsonology @2clones-1kamino @avidreader73

[alecsalamander]

(for @unloneliest, because we can never have enough of the bread)

It’s midterms week, and Lacey thinks if she goes to the library one more time she’s going to scream, going to rip out her hair and maybe her skin, just flay herself open and hope that the books find spaces to slip the information into.

Instead, she goes home.

It’s strange, not living there – it’s her home, still is and always will be, but sometimes she drops by and neither of her parents are in it, or there’s an unfamiliar item on the shelves, or there’s laughter or music or—

Sometimes she comes home and realizes that the house, like she did, has kept moving on.

“Hey Brat.” There’s music playing in the kitchen, soft and warm, and Cat is sitting on the counter like it’s a throne; the big blue bowl is beside him, covered in a cloth. He reaches out to tug at some of her hair as she gets close, and she laughs. He’s just as annoying now as he was when she was six, and she loves him just as much as she did then too. “How’re the midterms going?”

She smiles at him, soft and warm, and hops up onto the counter on his other side. “I’m going to set myself and at least two buildings on fire.”

He shifts, sliding a bit on the granite, until he can fully engulf her in his arms; it’s the same way he’s hugged her since she was a child, like he was putting himself between her and the world, but she’s not three feet tall anymore. Feels like it, a little bit, whenever he hugs her. She thinks that’s the way of it – she’s 20 years old and he loves her so much it makes her feel small by comparison. “You’re gonna be okay, kiddo.”

It’s not the words so much as the way he says them that has her feeling a little bit like crying – with completely surety. He sounds like Wendy.

“I will be,” she tells his collarbone. “I’ll be better after we finish that bread.”

The big blue bowl is for bread, and Cat always sits on the counter while it proofs. She knows it’s because he’s used to having one of them keeping him company during the time. He looks back at it, and lets her go just enough to prod the bowl beneath the cloth a little. “Eight more minutes,” he tells her, and she still has no idea how he knows. He never uses timers, and rarely measuring cups or spoons, but it always comes out perfect.

“Where’s Dad?”

Cat releases her to shrug, unconcerned. “No fucking clue.” He hops down to the floor and holds out his hands, like when she was little, to help her do the same. “I’m pretty sure he’s disassociating at Target again.” She checks her phone and sure enough, there’s a text from him, timestamped almost an hour ago, asking if she needs anything. “Stay for dinner. You can help me make tocană.”

She really should do some studying before tomorrow, but the promise of a familiar routine and spending the evening at home is a strong one. She hasn’t been home for dinner in about a week. “I can’t stay late,” she agrees. “I gotta study.”

Cat sits at the table. Pulls her backpack towards him, and pulls out the first textbook. He knows her well enough to know the meanings of the many colored tabs that mark it like a painting, and he cracks it open to the orange section. “I’ll quiz you,” he waves her away when she goes to sit with him, “while you shape the loaves. Give you something to do with your hands. Wash up, Brat, it’s almost time.”

She washes her hands while he starts reading out prep questions with the same tone he used to read her bedtime stories. There’s something rhythmic about it, the same as the motions she’s known since she was a child, and by the time she’s sliding the loaves into the oven she thinks that maybe he was right.

She’s gonna be okay.

[whentherewerebicycles]

okay i am feeling a little overwhelmed by the volume of stuff i have to do and learn and read!! i think that what’s making it more challenging is that i don’t have a good mental schema yet to hold all these disparate tasks & pieces of advice & bits of information that are flooding in, so it’s hard to know where to put stuff or how to prioritize certain tasks over others.

here are my big urgent priorities, which i am defining to mean “stuff that needs to happen in the next 2-3 work days”:

i need to closely read & take notes on these two position descriptions we’re hiring for so i can have an informed conversation with the other hiring manager early next week. however, I don’t have that meeting until wednesday, so i am shifting this task to tuesday after the holiday.

i need to read my student worker’s job description and do some thinking about how i want to approach our first expectations-setting meeting together. i’m sensing there is going to be a tricky balance here - it seems like the student role has been treated very casually as there hasn’t really been one direct supervisor in place... but also people have made some offhanded comments about the student that make it seem like there are some reliability/followthrough/communication issues that probably need to be addressed. i need to read the job description closely, gather some more information from the coworker who was informally supervising her, and then figure out how i want to structure our first meeting next tues. i think i can save some of this for tues morning, but might want to take advantage of my coworker being in the office today to have an information-gathering conversation with her where i ask some more specific questions about the issues people have mentioned & get her thoughts on how/when to address them with the student. so today’s task: have that conversation and take some notes for myself so i can let the question simmer in the back of my mind over the long weekend. tuesday morning’s task: read the job description & think about whether i want that first meeting to incorporate an expectations-setting thing of some kind (maybe using some of alison green’s AMA stuff).

i need to create some way to track & map the names of people i’ve met so far or been told i should connect with. i think this will tentatively take the form of a freeform board (for now), since the post-it option will let me easily record & cluster names in a mind-map board. that said, i don’t want to get sidetracked into putting a lot of information into the board right now, as i think i could easily lose a whole day or more on that. so today i will limit myself to JUST adding the names, a one-sentence description, and a note about whether i’ve scheduled a meeting with them yet. i think i would like to set a timer and spend 30 min max on this.

i need to read the long onboarding document they created for me so i can figure out whether there are additional things i should be thinking about or doing. this also has a more detailed description of my primary responsibilities, which will be helpful for building that mental schema. some tasks on the list will be little practical to-dos, like register for benefits or get my ID card photo taken. others will be more substantive, like sit down and do some journaling to consolidate my understanding of my role & what my first 3-6 months will look like. i think that to keep myself from getting sucked into the journaling work (which could also easily swallow an entire day), i want to skim through the document first and pull out ONLY the concrete to-dos (trainings i have to complete, benefits enrollment stuff i have to do, practical tasks). THEN i want to read through 

we have this gigantic messy sharepoint folder that has tons and tons of info relevant to my job, but is not organized in a way that i find especially intuitive. i do NOT want to get sucked into reading stuff today because there are so many files in there and not all of that info is immediately relevant. i think that what i’d like to do today is just a VERY deliberately surface-level skim of the folders, where i don’t let myself actually read any documents in-depth but just look at first pages of stuff and make a list of folders or files that seem like they’ll be useful to read in greater depth. once i’ve created that list, i want to figure out how to organize it (maybe ordering the entire thing in order of priority or relevance, so i have a list of stuff to steadily work through during my downtime, or maybe loosely grouping stuff by theme/category so i have a better sense of where information is when i need to access it later on.

at the end of the day, i want to take about 15-30 minutes to check on my list, jot down possible priorities for monday (though i don’t have to set my agenda just yet), and record any priorities that are not immediate (next 2-3 work days) but should be shorter-term (next couple weeks).

i think that these tasks will easily take up the entire day! my number one obstacle is: i know that as i work through this list i will feel a VERY strong impulse to delve more deeply into individual items and lose myself in the highly enjoyable work of reading, researching, reflective journaling, etc. however, i want to remind myself that i will have lots of time for that later, and at this stage it’s much more important for me to build out the skeleton infrastructure of this job in my mind so i can start fitting pieces of information into it. to combat that tendency, i will keep a catch-all notebook page or document to the side where i can write down threads i want to follow later or questions as they come up. that way i can feel sure that i’ll remember those things i want to explore later, but i don’t have to actually dive into them right now.