i found this my drafts i can't remember when i do that

the-sixth-month  asked:

I know I already told you (but that doesnt matter because Im sure you dont remember me) that I love how you draw Stan. And... basically everything else. I figured you draw everything in special shapes! I for myself try to draw more in shapes for drawing pracitce and not with these skeletons. You are really good at this! Maybe if you have time and if you want to, could you give me/us a small toturial? And maybe you dont even draw with shapes and its just me haha... Thank! :3

Thank you! But oh gosh, I really am the last person you should ask for a tutorial. I don’t think I have any conscious technique to it, I just sort of wing it. But I’m gonna try my best to explain my thoughts on different body types and how I draw them! I don’t draw shapes in the way I think you mean. At least I’m guessing you’re referring to something like this:

While I think this could actually be a pretty good way to go about it, this isn’t how I work. What I do is, I draw a rough outline of the character using a thick brush. Let’s take the sketch and line art of this drawing of Stan as an example:

So as you can see, there’s no real shapes or help lines or anything like that. But what I can tell you is this: when I draw bodies I always try to make them as dynamic as possible! My tip for drawing bodies is EXAGGERATE, EXAGGERATE, EXAGGERATE! Exaggerate the body types of different characters to add variety! Exaggerate different parts of the same character to make them more dynamic!

Since we’re on the topic of Stan, let’s talk about Stan and Ford. Identical twins with different body shapes? You can bet your sweet ass I’m gonna exaggerate those two in completely different directions! Identical twins are like the holy grail of character design practice - take two characters with the same face and see just how different you can make them! Let’s draw a quick doodle of the Stan twins:

Even in the rough outline you can clearly tell who’s who just from their body shapes. If you want to practice drawing different body types, I highly recommend trying to make the characters distinct from each other at the earliest possible stage of your drawing. Try to make it so that even from a rough sketch with no facial features or clothes you’ll still be able to tell which character is which!

Why am I going on about this? Because body shapes should not be treated as an afterthought! They need to be there, right from the beginning, right from the very first draft! I quite often see people draw fat characters that just look… odd. And you know why they look odd? Because it looks like the artist just sketched an average person and then added some chub during the line art process. Human bodies don’t really work like that! Unless we’re talking like a beer belly here, then the fat will be more evenly distributed across at least part of the body. This affects things like breadth of shoulders and hips, in other words the very frame of the body. If you’re a cartoonist, just adding some chub to a sketch of an average frame will never get a result that is as good and dynamic as a character than was drawn as fat from the very first draft (and this is why I think working from shapes can be very beneficial!).

Okay, so drawing different body types requires both planning and variety. But how do I go about designing a body? Well, personally, I work a lot with contrast, not only between different characters, but also within a single character. Since we’re on the subject of the Stan twins, let’s talk about Ford a bit. Ever wondered why I draw him with the same skinny legs as Stan, even though they’re thicker than his in canon? Well, part of it is because I draw them as identical and thus their fat distribution would work in the same way. But more importantly, it’s because my art style relies heavily on contrast in order to make characters appear as dynamic as possible!

I often draw characters like this – where one half of the body is broad/thick and the other narrow/thin. Let’s refer to it as ‘horizontal exaggeration’.

But what if I want to draw a character that is thin or thick all over? Can I still make them exaggerated and dynamic? Heck yeah, I can! Let’s talk about, uh, let’s call it ‘vertical exaggeration’! On the average human being, the midpoint of the body is at crotch level. Playing around with this midpoint helps a lot with making cartoony body types more dynamic!

Want to draw an overall thin character? Putting their crotch line higher up than usual will help emphasize how gangly they are. Meanwhile, a fat or stocky character is often drawn with a lower crotch line to help emphasize their girth.

In summary… I don’t really have any special techniques to teach anyone, but I really want to encourage people not to be afraid to exaggerate when it comes to body shapes! Exaggerate horizontally! Exaggerate vertically! Make those bodies weird and dynamic! I realize this is more of a rambling mess then a tutorial, but, uh…  I hope someone might have found this helpful?

And last but not least… Don’t worry if you can’t draw different body types just yet – just keep drawing and practicing and you’ll get the hang of it eventually! I think a lot of us have been at that stage where we were only able to draw skinny characters. Let’s take a look at how I drew bodies 8 and a half years ago and end this with a laugh!

If I can move past this stage, then so can all of you! Just keep drawing, keep practicing, and most of all, keep having fun doing it! Good luck!

when he sees her again, she’s riding on the back of a wolf.  not a small wolf, either–a wolf the size of a horse–a direwolf.  he remembers a girl who always seemed to climb everything, castle walls, trees, so why not a direwolf?  

he should say, “you’re alive,” should tell her that he’s missed her, that he’s spent years wondering where she’d run off to that night, but instead, he hears himself saying, “where’ve you been, then?”

she rolls her eyes at him, a hardened smirk playing at her lips.  “it’s not where i’ve been–it’s where i’m going.”

“oh? and where’s that?” he knows the answer, knows it before the word even falls from her lips.

“winterfell,” she says, and rests her hand on top of the wolf’s head.  “i’m taking my pack home.”

there’s something strange in her eyes–something wary.  he’s never seen her look at him this way, not ever.  he doesn’t like it.  she always used to trust him implicitly.  he doesn’t like it that she might not, still.

once she’d promised him that her kingly brother would find him a place to serve in his household.  she’d been covered in dirt, then.  she looks more a princess now than ever she had when she’d been a girl on that back of that direwolf.  but there’s the same intensity to her face that he’s always known, and it’s that, more than anything else, that makes him open his mouth to speak again.

“do you only have your wolves?  no army to take back winterfell?”

“my wolves are more than enough,” she says, looking back over her shoulder.  there are hundreds of them, maybe even thousands, and gendry doesn’t want to think about what would happen if the hell bitch arya is riding decided that he looks edible.

“so you have no need of a knight errant, then?”

her eyes are bright now, shining and grey, like little moons in her face.  “i have need of any who’d join me,” she says before pausing.  “if…if you’d come with me.”

gendry takes a step towards her, and she vaults off the back of her wolf and is running at him and a moment later she’s in his arms, and he’s in hers.

Bye Bye Birdie Lyric Meme
  • "He's going in the Army. It's the best thing he could do."
  • "I remember how you told me I should trust you for a year. It would just be for a year."
  • "A man who's got his masters is really someone."
  • "What's the story, morning glory?"
  • "What's the tale, nightingale?"
  • "What's the word, humming bird?"
  • "How lovely to be a woman, the wait was well worthwhile."
  • "Whenever you hear boys whistle, you're what they're whistling at."
  • "It's wonderful to feel the way a woman feels."
  • "Life's lovely when you're a woman like me!"
  • "How lovely to be so grown-up and free!"
  • "Gray skies are gonna clear up."
  • "Put on a happy face."
  • "Take off that gloomy mask of tragedy. It's not your style."
  • "You'll look so good that you'll be glad ya decided to smile."
  • "He feels brave and eager! Strangely humble!"
  • "He would gladly face those bullets for he's not afraid to die."
  • "He's a fine, upstanding, patriotic, healthy, normal American boy!"
  • "Volunteered? I thought he was drafted."
  • "There's absolutely nothing to the rumor he's engaged!"
  • "One boy. That's the way it should be."
  • "You need someone who is living just for you."
  • "You gotta be sincere!"
  • "If what you feel is true, you really feel it, you make them feel it too."
  • "In everything I do, my sincerity shows through."
  • "How could any family be half as fortunate as we?"
  • "Give me one last kiss."
  • "Eight years. That's how long I've wasted on him!"
  • "To put it sweetly, to hell with you!"
  • "What did I ever see in him?"
  • "What's he got that I found so damned appealing?"
  • "There are chicks just ripe for some kissing and I mean to kiss me a few."
  • "I got a lot of living to do."
  • "Life's a ball if you only know it."
  • "I don't know what's wrong with these kids today!"
  • "Why can't they be like we were, perfect in every way?"
  • "What's the matter with kids today?"
  • "Baby, won't you talk to me?"
  • "Talk to me til I press you close to me. Then you'll see we won't have to talk at all."
  • "Call me the wild Spanish rose!"
  • "I was never crazy for flowers."
  • "Take it from me, there's one rose sweeter than any that grows."
  • "Life is one sweet, beautiful song to me."
  • "When love is right then what can be wrong?"

Maybe there’s a reason we don’t see Stiles without a shirt. Maybe there’s a reason his Mom thought that small!Stiles was trying to kill her. Maybe there’s a reason why Stiles still isn’t great at lacrosse. Maybe there’s a deeper reason why Stiles & Scott became such good friends so young. Maybe there’s a reason why hardly anything is mentioned about Stiles prior to the death of his mother. Maybe there is another explanation for the heart in the fresco.



Stiles Stilinski had a heart transplant.

Your Mind, My Heart…

Stiles was born with a heart defect. As a very small child, he was limited to mostly indoor physical activity. He couldn’t keep up with the other kids, so his Mom would send him with books to read during outside time in pre-school and kindergarten. His friend Scott liked to read with him, too. Scott has trouble breathing. He thinks Stiles does too, and that’s ok: he’s learned that if he says his heart doesn’t work, people don’t let him do anything at all. Stiles likes to pretend to Be Dad. His Dad would give him simple versions of observation games the department taught to new Deputies and even tried to teach him a bit of military strategy & tactics from those handful of years in the Army. Stiles would read while he ate, then go outside and give the books to Scott. Then Stiles would sit and watch his schoolmates play, trying to train his brain. He knew he wouldn’t be able to run or play like his peers or be a cop like Dad, but if he worked on his education he could still do something important when he grew up. If he works hard enough maybe he can put people like Scott’s dad in jail. Stiles knows what happened at Scott’s house and it makes him angry.

Stiles watches. Stiles remembers. More importantly, Stiles notices.

Mom was getting worse, his own chest hurt more often and his Dad was sad all the time. One day, Stiles was waiting outside of his Mom’s room at the hospital and saw them wheel the nurse’s kid to the elevator. He looked tired and scared with an oxygen mask on his face. Stiles frowned, Nice Nurse Melissa was….well, nice, unlike Mean Melissa at Admissions, and her son Scott was a great friend…or would be when Mom gets better and Scott’s asthma calms down. Then Dad is calling, “Son? Your Mom and I are done with the Doctor, you can come in now.” Stiles hopped up and joined his parents. A little while later, a man came in and took blood from Mom, then took blood from Stiles. He piped up, “Mom and I have the same blood, AB!” For some reason, Dad and Mom both started crying when he said that. The man gave Stiles one of those lollipops with a weird string handle, patted his head and said something about Anti-Jims as he left. Stiles wondered if Anti-Jims were the reason his heart hurt and Mom’s brain was so tired. He said so out loud, then Dad pulled him into an awkward but fierce 3-way hug. Mom kisses his forehead. “Our Stiles, love. You always said he’s got your mind and my heart.” The hug grows even more fierce as all the Stilinskis in Beacon Hills cry together.

Mom was getting worse. It had been almost two years since her first stay in the Hospital, the last six months of which she’d spent in BHMH. Dad and Stiles couldn’t take care of her at home anymore, she kept wandering off or attacking them for no reason. After they put her into the hospital full-time, she started saying that Stiles was trying to kill her, that he wanted to rip her heart out. Worse were the days the nurses would have to restrain her because she’d ripped off her IVs and clawed deep, jagged, bloody gouges into her own chest. One evening, they found Stiles cowering in the shower, his small hands covered in her blood. Through blue lips and gasping for breath, he told Nice Nurse Melissa how he’d tried to stop Claudia but wasn’t strong enough. She hugged him gently, washed his hands while he drew deep on the oxygen mask and whispered Mom-sounding things as he drifted off to sleep. When Stiles woke up he found the Peanut Butter Cups that Scott had gently placed into his jacket pocket. Maybe they’ll finally get to hang out more soon, Stiles thinks as he pops the first cup into his mouth. He saves the second one for later.

Stiles was getting worse. His chest hurt more often now, for longer periods, and he had an oxygen tank at home. He slept a lot more, too. It was just more time for nightmares and terrifying visions of all types. He hated it. He forces himself to stay awake for long periods of time. He doesn’t get to spend time with Scott, he doesn’t go to school regularly. He hears his Dad on the phone talking about donors and test results. Dad sounds scared.
His entire life revolves around the hospital.

He’s in Mom’s room reading out loud to her when she suddenly gasps and looks over at him. Stiles jumps up, startled. This is the first time in weeks Mom is actually *looking* at him like she sees him.

She smiles, weak but radiant. “Stiles…”
His name is the last thing he ever hears her say.

He vaguely remembers pushing the emergency button when she stopped breathing. After he was hustled out of her room, Stiles sat in the waiting area. His book bag was still in the room, he was worried and bored and tired and didn’t know what to do. He asked Melissa for some juice, but she looked guilty and said he couldn’t have any right now. Sighing, he put his head between his hands and waited for Dad to arrive. He hears a whisper, “Our Stiles…my heart.” He squeezes his eyes shut.

It was all a blur after that. Dad ran in, hugged him and then followed Melissa into Mom’s room. He notices that Dad has blood on his hands. Whatever happened, Dad looks sad but not afraid. Stiles rubs at his eyes, exhausted from it all. Then Dad picked him up and got into the elevator with a couple of doctors. The doctors help get Stiles straightened out in his own room, and he doesn’t fight or argue. He’s numb and tired and now Dad looks like he’s about to cry. Another doctor comes in and tells Stiles that they have a new heart for him. Stiles tells his Dad and doctor both, “Will you tell Mom? She’ll be so happy…” trailing off as the doctor looks sharply at Dad and the chart, and falls completely silent when he is pulled quickly into his Dad’s chest.

He realizes later that the heart is hers.
Was hers.
Will always be hers.

Stiles recovers in record time. He’s energetic again, even more than before. He goes back to school and goes back to spending most of his time with Nice Nurse Melissa’s son Scott. They grow up in the usual fashion and start high school. He goes out for lacrosse with Scott on a whim, thinking it’ll be good for both of them to get a bit of exercise but ends up liking it more than he’d care to admit. Stiles has good checkups from his cardiologist and keeps his transplant a secret from everyone. He swore Melissa to secrecy shortly after the operation and she agreed to never tell Scott. She understands Stiles more than most. At school he avoids the Trainers and nurse, he doesn’t take his shirt off where anyone can see, he never talks about his Mom. In all of Beacon Hills, only a handful of people know about his heart and it’s going to stay that way.

Then as luck would have it, Scott is Bitten and everything goes to hell in a handbasket. When Stiles finds out that werewolves can hear heartbeats, he screams silently and tamps down the panic rising along with his curly fries from dinner. Is there a difference in his? Can they tell? He feels fiercely possessive of those beats. Her beats. He clenches his fists angrily until he feels his temples and wrists throbbing. Suddenly all the fight pours out of him, the pulse at his temple like a gentle kiss and pressure at wrists a reassuring squeeze from Her. It doesn’t matter, and since none of them say anything, he guesses his secret is safe.

Sometimes when he can’t sleep he’ll try to be still and quiet enough to hear it beat. Tries to pretend he’s pushing his ear to her ribs again, listening to the oceanic pulse of her blood as they cuddle together.

He can’t and he isn’t and he’s lonely.

anonymous asked:

I really adore your writting and was wondering if you have any tips or advice? I've always had a vivid imagination that produces many story ideas, but when I try to write I find that I can't get whats in my head out into words. I don't know if you have trouble like this, but if you do what do you usually do? Sorry if I'm bothering you.

No bother at all!

To be perfectly honest… I struggle a lot when it comes to writing. I honestly couldn’t tell you what on earth I’ve managed to do in Goblin Men to make so many people love it and its style. I’ve been trying to pin it down and replicate it for my own books but it’s wonky.

A way I tend to go about things is to not really worry about the writing itself to begin with? I use Evernote a lot, and if I have an idea I REALLY like and want to explore, I create a notebook for that and just… create notes. I have notes that are only a few bits of dialogue and that’s it. If you do your writing digitally, I highly recommend Evernote, it syncs up online and you never really lose anything.

If I have an idea for a story, I try and write it down so I’ll remember it later. (I tend to monologue a lot of dialogue aloud, which I then forget. It’s a nightmare.) Got something for a character backstory? Jot it down. Got a neat bit of dialogue? Some worldbuilding? Some picture you found online that fits the theme, or an actor whose face fits a character? Put it somewhere you can access it and remember it. Slowly build. It helps, trust me. My first step is getting the ideas OUT of my head, and into Evernote. (I have an absolutely stupid amount of things in Evernote that will never see completion.)

I also follow some writing blogs. @writeworld, @clevergirlhelps, @nimblesnotebook are some that I’ve found recently that have cool tips and inspiration.

When it comes down to the actual nitty gritty of writing… it helps to have a nice writing program. And fonts. FOOOOOONNNTS. Love of my life. I use LibreOffice for my own writing projects. Lovely bit of free software.

I have issues with revising. My brain doesnt work in first draft/second draft/so on. I constantly keep going back and tweaking my work and Im desperately trying to get out of that habit.

I’m really not sure what my writing style is, or how it comes together. I really don’t. A friend was gonna analyze Goblin Men and hopefully she comes up with some answers.

It really helps if you have someone you can bounce ideas off of. I have two IRL friends, and any time I get an idea for Goblin Men, I immediately tell them. And then they yell at me. A lot. Find someone who can either give you critiques of ideas, or just… yell all-caps encouragement. Have someone to rant to about all those wonderful concepts. And KEEP THAT NOTE SYSTEM. It will be your salvation when you really get dedicated to a writing project.

Try for things like NaNoWriMo. Just try and write a little bit every day. Just a few sentences. It’ll help.

Pro tip: don’t write ten thousand words in present tense and then decide to change it to past tense. You will Suffer.

If you’re really stuck getting the ideas into a bookish format, try making an outline. I tend to work in bullet point lists in Evernote. Just write down the ideas you have for a Thing and don’t even really worry about putting them in chronological order at first.

For the writing itself… if music helps you think, find some nice background music. Have a snack. Sleep. Sit your butt down and make yourself write. You don’t even have to start at the beginning, just write what you’ve got at the moment. Half the time when I’m writing Goblin Men, I start the chapter, then head to the middle, then staple it together like a Frankenstein abomination.

I’ll tell you this cuz I need to get myself to understand it: it doesn’t need to be absolutely perfect right away. Let it be kinda shitty. Let it stumble along as you figure out the tone you want. The writing will catch up, just put the story to words.

If you’ve got 20 bucks, I’ll point you towards ZenWriter. It’s a program that fills up your entire screen, and you can select a custom background and it plays soothing music, and you can make it so when you type, it makes an old typewriter noise. As you’re typing, the only thing you see are the words.

If you have trouble with distractions, that can be really helpful. I’ve found in the past that when using ZenWriter, once I get going, I don’t want to stop. It’s just me and the words.

Make little notes. Write down ANY cool idea you have, especially if you’re working on a big headworld or book. Watch cool speedpaints. Follow aesthetic blogs. Read people whose work you enjoy.

Ask people for advice and then watch them type out an excessively long reply because she gets super excited when people look to her for guidance because that’s literally never happened before ;)

Wow. That was long. Hope that helps! Feel free to ask more specific stuff, or just stuff in general!

answeringthetrain-deactivated20  asked:

I need some inspiration/advice about finishing a story. I've started thousands of stories, some of them quite good ones, but it's so hard to finish. I've only finished one novel, and I can't really say I finished it since it was just a first draft.

Hey, Lindsay!

Let’s sit around the campfire, because it’s story time c;

3 years ago I was a very different person. I wasn’t very happy with my body, or my job, or my life in general. I found myself in a place where I could either try to change or give up completely– not only with writing, but everything. The only thing that made me happy was writing, but I never finished anything, ever. I had a dozen half manuscripts and a handful of first chapters– but nothing else. I didn’t want to give up, it didn’t feel right. I realized I wasn’t the person I wanted to be– so I decided to change. I disappeared from the world for a few months. I let go of people who didn’t love me, or cared about me. I searched for my real self– and I decided I would finish a book for the first time.

How did i do it? I bit my lip, sat my ass down on the chair, and I wrote recklessly. I wrote without fear for the first time in my life. I told myself that I wanted to finish a story. I wanted to be an author. I didn’t want to ‘aspire’ to be a writer– I wanted to be a writer.

I wrote a book called 'Wonderful Emotions,’ a story of an ex-psychic soldier who attends group therapy with a bunch of monsters in order to prove that he is healthy enough to be a regular citizen. It was about 60K words long, and I wrote it in 14 days. I was on fire. When I finished it I kind of 'woke’ up– like someone who had ran away from home and realized they’d been running so fast they had made it across the country without knowing.

But I finished something. It was scary– but it was also liberating.

My advice?

  • Write recklessly. Don’t care what people will think of you. And don’t care if you think the writing is not good, you can always fix it later during the second draft.
  • Remember that this is a story that you, and only you, can tell.
  • Lastly, you may find this hard to believe, but someone out there is going to need your book to get through a hard time in their life. You may never meet them in person, but I can promise you that they will read your book– and find within the answers to their questions.

I know I did :)

As a final piece of advice, I have previously answered an ask about how to stay motivated on a story– and it’s seriously what I use to stay inspired and keep writing. I would recommend you give it a try c;

I hope this helps! If you (or any of the writerly cuties reading this) have any questions, please send them my way~ ♥︎

Keep Writing~

blondecrowns  asked:

okay i have to tell you how much i love 'codes', i honestly can't get it out of my head and it's been weeks since i read it??? in any case, i wondered - if you ever wrote another part (which i'll keep my fingers crossed for) - how do you imagine, or what do you imagine would've been the trigger for them rekindling their relationship in the first place? and emma/killian's reaction when they both see each other after so many years? i just - ugh i love it so much, your writing is so great (painful)

i’ve been postponing this ask since i got it because i needed to be on a somewhat calm emotional state to answer you (i clearly was going through some serious shit when i wrote codes, can you tell) because it was probably some of the saddest shit i have ever come up with in a long time

in the end i haven’t calmed at all re: emotional state so whatever man i was going through my drafts and found this and here you go my friend

(also thanks for reminding me about it bcs i should post it on ao3 or ffnet) 

this is a pre-scene for this 

Emma Swan didn’t believe in ghosts.

Not that that was her first predicament that morning - the only off one she had that week, mind you. Instead of lazing around in bed and spending it in her pajamas stuffing herself with cereal or muffins, she had gotten a call from her boyfriend to help him out. Since Graham had started working full hours at the animal shelter once the owner had left town, things had been a little bit hectic. Emma didn’t really mind, but then again, getting a frantic call at nine in the morning for her to please help him find a missing dog that had escaped earlier and wandering around town wasn’t exactly what she had expected for her off day.

At least she had managed to convince Ruby to help for a while, until she ditched her once she got a booty call from Vic. After blowing her a kiss and promising to share the deets with her later, her friend had driven away - too enthusiastically in Emma’s opinion, but then, who was she to judge her friend’s trysts in on-call rooms at the hospital - leaving her alone once more. She sighed and kept knocking from door to door, asking every owner and pedestrians about the missing dog.

She had almost given up hope when roughly at midday she spotted him. She tip toed until she was behind him, and with a breathless sound of relief she clasped the leash on its collar. “Gotcha.” The poor thing whined, rubbing its head against her legs. She petted him softly, bending her knees until she was eye to eye with him. “Come on, buddy, don’t be that way.”

“Is that how you pick dates up now, Swan? I’d have thought you’d honed your skills after so long.”

Emma Swan didn’t believe in ghosts, but this most certainly was the closest encounter with one she had ever had.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Does bpd affect ur motivation? Bc I have bpd but I'm so behind in my college work. Not even bc my moodswings get in the way... I just can't bring myself to do it, I have no motivation, no ambition, etc. Its stressing me out so much I hate this

I think BPD can definitely cause difficulties with motivation, for various reasons.  It may not be a core symptom, but I think this is definitely a potential side-effect of a few symptoms.

The four big things that I can think of that would affect motivation or have affected my own motivation personally have been:

  • Chronic feelings of emptiness: When you feel empty on a regular basis, it’s hard to get motivated about anything at all because most things feel pretty meaningless.  It’s also sometimes hard to find any ambition to work towards goals when this symptom is in play.
  • Dissociative episodes triggered by stress:  Staying motivated in periods of high stress can be very difficult if you’re prone to dissociation under stress, which a lot of people who have BPD do.  Even just consistent episodes of mild dissociation can really fuck up any motivation you may have had going for you on a particular day, or during a particular week.
  • Unstable identity It’s hard to get motivated when you don’t know who you are and what you want or need, or even what your basic interests are.  
  • Problems with executive dysfunction / cognitive problems:  While not technically a symptom of BPD, problems with executive function of the brain is something that a lot of people with BPD experience.  When you honestly can’t get your brain to move from one step of a task to another, it’s a huge impediment to actually getting things done.  It’s discouraging, and being discouraged can definitely have an negative effect on your motivation. (You might end up thinking “I know I won’t be able to get this done, so why bother trying in the first place?” but it’s important to remember that every little step you complete counts, even if the whole task doesn’t get completed.)

Mood-swings and splitting (on things like your hobbies or interests, for example) could also be factors at play, but I think these four above things, three of which are core symptoms of BPD, likely contribute to a lot of people who have BPD struggling to get motivated or to stay motivated.

Also I apologize for the fact that this ask has been sitting in my drafts for so long, I was having motivation problems of my own because I was feeling very discouraged.  Strong negative emotions and splitting on yourself may not directly result in poor motivation, but the discouragement that strong negative emotions and self-splitting results in definitely does.

Therefore, one of the best ways I’ve found to actually get motivated, stay motivated, or be motivated more often, is to capitalize on feeling good about myself.  When I’m feeling good about myself, I can get stuff done much better than when I’m feeling bad about myself–mostly because executive dysfunction and dissociation and emptiness affect me less. 

I used to just sit, relax, and enjoy my good days because they were few and far between, but now that I’ve been trying to practice the Accumulate Positive Experiences/Emotions component of the ABC Skill, I’ve made the decision to use a little bit of the time of every other good day or one day per weekend to do something I enjoy.  If you’re having trouble motivating yourself, it’s best to start off completely tasks that you find pleasant or enjoyable.  This might seem selfish at first because opening the blinds on a sunny day and changing the sheets on your bed may seem like an insignificant way to spend your time, but starting by doing little things like that will help train your brain to feel competent enough to tackle more complex tasks or activities in the future.  Here’s a List of Pleasant Events/Activities if you’re not sure where to start.

Further Reading: What is Dissociation?, Am I dissociating?, Is it possible to split on interests and hobbies?, What are cognition problems and affectivity problems?, More detailed description of cognition problems?, Examples of cognition problems?, More information on identity disturbance?, More information on “feeling empty”?I can’t cope with any other emotion than the feeling of emptiness?, What does it mean if I can’t concentrate on something I’m interested in?, Can BPD affect your interests?, ABC: Accumulate Positive Experiences/Emotions, How can I build positive experiences?, List of Pleasant Events 


Wherever Dex is, he’s wearing a thick woolen jumper, drinking hot chocolate, and looking out the window at the leaves knocked from the trees by the wind. The leaves make him think of Nursey, and he smiles a sad smile, because he misses his friend right bow. He misses all his friends, but especially Nursey.
Dex is drawn out of his thoughts by his phone ringing, and he smiles a real smile when he reads the caller ID.
“Hey Nursey. You don’t miss me, do you?” he answers.
“Nah, just ringing to tell you what plays we’re working on” Nursey says
“Sure Derek” Dex says with a laugh, and on the other end of the line, Nursey laughs too.


previously on tiberius

inspired by pixieknight10805’s post here

Warnings: implied emotional abuse

slight change from last installment included at the beginning of this one. :DDD

“SUGAR BEE!” Tony shouts, and launches himself out of his chair.

Rhodey’s grin breaks free. “Hey, Tones. How you doing?”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Tony asks, eyes skimming over him. He looks good, isn’t favoring anything as far as Tony can tell, but it’s hard to tell with the jacket and the scarf. “Are you okay? How’d you find me?”

“Tracked your phone, you idiot, how else?” Rhodey says, grinning. “I’m fine.”

It’s been months, God, it’s so good to see him. “What are you doing here?” he asks again. He should probably let go of him but he really doesn’t want to.

“What, I can't—”

“You’re Tiberius?” Steve interrupts and Tony’s so shocked by the blatant rudeness of it, he has to turn to confirm it was him. Steve’s been nothing but unfailingly polite so far.

“No,” Tony says and hears Clint, Natasha, and Sam’s voices layered with his own and Rhodey’s scandalized, “What? No!”

The hard set of Steve’s brow softens and he turns faintly pink. “Oh. I— I’m sorry.”

“This is Rhodey,” Tony explains.

Rhodey hooks his arm around Tony’s neck and pulls him close. “I’m his best friend. Colonel James Rhodes of the United States Air Force. You are?”

There’s some serious posturing going on there which, strangely enough, Tony sees echoed back in the faces of Steve and his friends. They seem…suspicious. Well, except Sam, who looks like a kid on Christmas morning.

Steve blurts, “Steve—City Emergency Services,” still looking mortified. The others introduce themselves one at a time, polite but wary, at least until Sam’s up. He’s all lit up when he says, “I don’t know if you remember me—”

But recognition dawns on Rhodey’s face and he smiles, arm relaxing around Tony’s neck. “Oh my god, Wilson. Now that’s something else, how the hell are you?” He reaches across the table to shake Sam’s hand and Tony can’t help how he grins at the huge smile on Sam’s face.

“I’m good, I’m good, man. You’re obviously doing well, got promoted.”

Rhodey glances down, the way he always does when someone mentions his achievements. Tony squeezes his ass and Rhodey jerks, glares at him.

“We’re very proud,” Tony says and Rhodey’s mouth ticks upward.

“You got out?”

“I did,” Sam says agreeably. “C'mon, sit, sit! Have a few drinks with us!”

So they do. The bartender brings over fresh glasses and a couple more pitchers of beer.

“I’m working at the VA now,” Sam goes on.

“I heard about Riley,” Rhodey says, sobering. “I’m sorry.”

Sam’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You and me both, brother.”

“You never said what you’re doing in town,” Tony says to Rhodey when Sam starts to look suspiciously glassy-eyed.

Rhodey smiles at him, grips his shoulder and shakes him a little. “I am here to see you.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. I’ve got a few days before I have to be back in Washington.”

Tony grins and feels it go a little silly. “God, it’s good to see you.”

“Sorry,” Steve says, interrupting again, what is going on with him? “but did you say you found him using the GPS on his phone?”

Tony catches Rhodey’s eye because they both know what actually happened was Rhodey asked JARVIS, but, eh, semantics.

Rhodey says, “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

A laugh bursts out of Tony. “Hey, Shortbread, come on, what’s with the third degree?”

On his other side, Steve’s mouth thins. “I guess I’m old fashioned; it just seems to me if Tony wanted you to know where he was, he’d tell you you if you asked.”

“Not if he wanted to surprise me,” Tony cuts in. Rhodey eyes Steve thoughtfully. The others—except Sam, beautiful beautiful Sam—don’t seem to be warming to Rhodey either, what the hell. That’s not acceptable. He sits forward. “Did you guys know Sam and Rhodey worked together on the EXO-7. But shh, that’s technically Top Secret, you didn’t hear it from me. Sorry Rhodey. Bruce, Jane, Rhodey went to MIT with me. He got a Masters in Aerospace Engineering, which really does not do justice to how brilliant he is, okay, but trust me, he is, and—”

“Hey, whoa, whoa, Tony, relax,” Rhodey says, hand gripping the juncture of his neck gently, but firmly and pulling him back. “It’s okay,” he says, smiling. “I’m giving your new friends a hard time. I’m sorry, I’ll stop.” Then he looks back at the others and adds, “And I’m sorry to all of you. People don’t always have the best intentions where Tony is concerned and I guess I’m a little bit overprotective.”

“A little bit, right,” Tony mutters under his breath and grins when Rhodey elbows him in the ribs.

He gets a lot of looks from the rest of the group, measuring and assessing, and he clears his throat. “Enough with the posturing now, hm? Let’s get back to drinking.”

“Hear hear,” Clint says and lifts his glass.

“To friends!” Thor calls and smiles start to spread around the table. Everyone lifts a glass.


whoops this is shorter than i thought