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teensofdenial  asked:

hi peyton, i kno u hav a lot of messages so dont worry abt answering this if u dont have time or just dont want to or whateves, but im curious bc a lot of your responses include advice about getting rid of negative self talk and being gentle with yourself. do u hav advice for how to start doing that? ive been trying over the last few months to cut out negative self talk but i dont really kno how to do it effectively and nothing ive tried has helped much. thank u! (also NICE url holy shit)

hey, thank you for the message! this is a good question because “be nice to yourself” is definitely one of those things that is easier said than done. everybody struggles with internal negativity to some degree, and it can be especially hard when the outside world seems to enforce our negative thoughts about ourselves.

i think about this short story by sandra cisneros a lot, because i think it illustrates an important point –

What they don’t understand about birthdays and what they never tell you is that when you’re eleven, you’re also ten, and nine, and eight, and seven, and six, and five, and four, and three, and two, and one… Like some days you might say something stupid, and that’s the part of you that’s still ten. Or maybe some days you might need to sit on your mama’s lap because you’re scared, and that’s the part of you that’s five. And maybe one day when you’re all grown up, maybe you will need to cry like if you’re three, and that’s okay. That’s what I tell Mama when she’s sad and needs to cry. Maybe she’s feeling three.

there is always going to be that part of you that acts like a scared five-year-old or a crying three-year-old, but there is also a grown-up part of you who has the life experience and the emotional maturity to soothe their fear and sadness. there are always going to be these soft, tender, vulnerable parts of you, and it’s worth making the effort to be kind and patient with them for exactly the same reasons you’d be kind and patient with a little kid. 

to that end, one thing i like to do from time to time is something i call an “anxiety inventory,” which is like, a very ocpd way of saying that i open a fresh google doc and i write down a detailed point-form list of every single thing that’s scaring me or bothering me or making me sad, with no filter at all. which is sort of the equivalent of letting the inner terrified five-year-old run free. and then i take ten or twenty minutes to make some tea or take a hot shower, pick ur fave method of decompression, and then i come back to the list. and i go through it point by point and respond to each point with my calm, rational grown-up hat on. like, what are the actionable steps i can take to solve this problem? who can i ask for help? is this a realistic concern rooted in my own experience, or am i catastrophizing? if i’ve been through anything similar in the past, how did i handle it then? always with the intent of validating and honouring my own negative emotions, but also trying to aim myself toward healthier thinking. 

journaling helps for similar reasons & i’m very lucky to have a really loving and supportive network of friends who help me recognize when i’m being too hard on myself. also even just like, basic things like making sure i’m taking my meds and getting enough sleep can go a lot way to cutting down on anxiety and Bad Feelings, which helps me be kinder to myself.

i hope that helps? i hope that helps. 

superviralgalaxy  asked:

Ooh! Can you do #53 w/IceFire (Klance)? Pretty please? Thnx! (Love your blog btw)

| 53: Who crawls through someone’s window at 4am to go for ice cream?! |

They were finally, finally back.

Space still lingered in all of their blood as they parted ways to find family they hadn’t seen for years. Shiro was the first to leave, then Hunk, then Pidge; they didn’t make promises about keeping in touch at the moment because they were all determined to return home. It was all in haste.

Then it was just Keith and Lance, breathing in a new sort of life now that they had each other. It had been decided that Keith was to go and stay with Lance’s family, since he did not seem to have blood relatives to call his own. Stepping on land, Lance was shaky, not having anything really to pack, and his homesickness wouldn’t go away until he was back with his family. “I-It’s all so surreal. I mean, it’s been so long and-”

Keith simply took Lance’s hand, giving him something to hold onto.

Grateful, Lance squeezed Keith’s hand. “Let’s go home.”

And several hours later, they made it.

Lance was hesitant to knock on the door, worried, which caused Keith to give him an encouraging smile. The knock was issued and dogs barked, filling a sliver of silence, and voices were heard, speaking in Spanish. Lance stood frozen, tears welling in his eyes. His body wasn’t ready, he wasn’t ready.

But he was ready.

The front door opened. “Quién es?” A taller woman appeared who had dark brown hair with silver streaks in it. She looked tired, incredibly tired and as she stood there, realization hit her. Her eyes widened and she whispered, “Mi hijo?”

“Mamá,” Lance breathed and after he spoke, he was embraced. His mom was crying, crying and he was tempted to but he felt the homesickness begin to drain his body. So he smiled, hugging her back tightly. “Estoy en casa,” he said, with an almost bittersweet finality. “Estoy en casa, mamá.”

Several minutes passed and they pulled apart, and Keith watched lovingly but with a slight ache in his chest. And then Lance’s mom noticed Keith and he didn’t know what to do. Her eyes turned back and looked at her son, asking him a very simple question.

To which Lance replied, “El es mi amor.” He finally looked back at Keith and the love in his eyes was there, soft and believing. He held out a hand and Keith reached for it, only to be hugged by Lance’s mom. “Gracias por cuidar de él,” she stated, releasing a flustered Keith. “Gracias.” Her smile was incredibly warm and it was a promise that a future was safe with them.

With Lance.

Time was lost to both Lance and Keith as they were brought inside the house, dogs barking, barking until they stopped, questionably sniffing Lance, and then they jumped at him, as if they were smiling. But he seemed to truly know the skinnier, but big, scruffy brown dog more. The smaller one, the new one, Keith decided, was just friendly, as it approached him. It licked his hand and it was a very strange, almost familiar experience he hadn’t known for years.

After they got past the dogs, they passed another room, dedicated to child entertainment, and entered the kitchen. Before Lance could step in, he heard some go, “Mamá, who was that?” Lance recognized his younger (by two minutes) twin sister, and stepped in before his mom could answer.

“When I was your age, I was at the door, telling Mamá I was home. It was beautiful.” Keith peeked his head around the corner and saw a woman who looked similar to lance, with wavy brown hair and short, pointed bangs. She didn’t look as happy to see him, more like annoyed, while holding a tan mug of coffee.

“Lance,” she almost spat.

“Lucita, how’s it going?” And he walked over to the kitchen table and took the seat across from her.

“You know that’s not my name, pendejo.” She crossed her arms and seemed to be taking Lance’s return back home as an unwelcome advance onto the family. “Seriously, why did you come back, this is so-”

“Lucia!” Their mom barked, scaring Keith while coming up to stand behind Lance’s chair. “Esa no es manera de tratar a su hermano!”

“Pero Mamá-” But Lucia was cut off when, much to Keith’s confusion, their mom lifted up her foot, took off her sandal, and raised it in the air. His sister’s eyes widened and she sighed.

“Ha, you got threatened with la chancla,” Lance said, and Lucia raised an eyebrow, almost smiling.

“I hope you know in your heart that you still hold the record for receiving la chancla.”

“Glad to know,” Lance bit back, mysteriously rubbing the back of his head. And then she finally smiled, hidden by the mug raised to her mouth, guarded by overlapping fingers. When she stopped, she finally noticed Keith still in the doorway, suddenly taken aback. She didn’t break eye contact as she reached over and touched her brother’s arm, basically slapping. “Yes, my darling herma-ouch-what is it?!”

“Lance, who is that?” And he turned around, smiling. He motioned for Keith to come over. And so Keith made his way over as Lance pulled out the chair next to him, patting the seat. After he sat down, Lance threw an arm around Keith’s shoulders, pulling him closer, grinning. Watching him light up like that made Keith a little bit embarrassed but happy nonetheless.

“El es mi amor,” he repeated again, and Keith’s heart fluttered.

“Look, that’s sweet and all, but what’s his name?”

Lance burned red and Keith looked at him, then buried his face into Lance’s shoulder, laughing gently. “This is Keith.” He was still laughing after picking his head back up, opening his eyes to look at Lance’s sister. He smiled and opened his mouth when Lucia cut him off.

“You’re too good for him. Run.” She placed a hand on the table, her face serious for all intents and purposes. Keith only looked at her, a little puzzled, when she finally smiled. “I’m just messing with you. The name’s Lucia if you didn’t hear. Nice to meet you Keith.”

“Nice meeting you, too.” He said with a smile Lance loved.

“Welcome to the rest of your life,” she added, smiling, smiling in return.

And the start of the rest of his life was incredibly intimate. Keith and Lance spent the time talking with Lance’s mother and sister. They both were eager to share embarrassing stories that poked holes in Lance’s well-known space bravado but he was powerless to stop them both. Then the photo albums came out and Lance was ready to leave and go spend time with the family pets who wouldn’t quote-on-quote “embarrass him” but when he saw Keith look at his baby pictures, Lance had a change of heart.

Keith’s smile was apparent, since he had tucked his hair behind his right ear, and he was smiling, touching the pages. All Lance could do was watch him. That’s how the exposure of his memories became tolerable.

And it was a lot of talking, reminiscing and then pan dulce was eaten and really good food cooked by Lance and his mom and others arrived back from work and/or school, and then it was a reprisal of earlier, everyone excited to meet Lance’s love, everyone excited to embarrass him all over again.

And it was fun, it was fun.

Dinner was amazing as well and everyone talked, talked and Keith felt his heart swell when he saw Lance just being around his family. He felt like he was looking at home.

Time passed and night progressed. Everyone retired to rest, at one point or the other, content in knowing Lance was home and that they would see him in the morning. And lying down in the spare room, Keith understood that feeling all too well, as he fell fast asleep, warm and content.

Next thing he knew, he was awake. The window was open and Lance stood there. It was still dark out. “Lance?” Keith rubbed at his eyes, following that up with a yawn. “What time is it?”

“Last I checked, it’s four in the morning, love.”

“Why am I up?” A light was turned on and the shadows of the room glowed.

“We’re going to go get some ice cream.”

“Who crawls through someone’s window at 4am to go for ice cream?!”

“Me, Keith. You’ve been dating me for a couple years now. Honestly, I was expecting you to expect this,” Lance grinned, and Keith had to admit he was right. “But, enough about me. Let’s go.” He stretched out his hand and Keith had no choice but to take it.

It was cool out and the stars were beginning to fade. Keith only blinked and before he knew it, they’d ended up where all the family parked their cars. “Lance?” They approached a square looking sort of car with images on one side Keith couldn’t make out. “What are you doing?” Lance had his hand on the door handle, sliding it open. He hopped in and thirty seconds passed before he was out of the car. He had an ice cream in his mouth, another in his hand. He gave the one in his hand to Keith and then shut the door.

They sat down with their backs against the truck as they ate. It was cold but it was cold and good.

“Why do you have ice cream in your backyard?” Keith asked, genuinely confused.

“Well, my uncle, he drives an ice cream truck for a living.”

“Who was he again?” A lot of faces flashed through Keith’s head as he awaited a response.

“He was the short man with the black hair.”

“Right, he was the one who told me that you used to scoot around on your butt like a dog when you were five.” Keith was incredibly proud to have new bits of information that made Lance choke on his ice cream.

“When-when did he tell you that?”

“Remember when you went to the bathroom? Well, at that point, it was a window for everyone to try and tell the most embarrassing memory of yours.” Lance’s face became dark as he stared in front of him. He smiled a broken smile and then hung his head.

“Of course they did. Did they tell you about the, uh, the watermelon?”

“Your sister beat everyone else to it.” Keith smiled gently and Lance lifted his head back up, letting it rest against the truck. He sighed. “Don’t worry, it was fun, hearing about you and the eventful past you had.”

“I would say tell me about it but you literally could. They managed to tell you everything.” Something was different about Lance; he wasn’t humiliated so much anymore. His smile directed at Keith was much more genuine and momentary, as he leaned in and whispered into Keith’s ear, “Welcome to the family.”

“Glad to be a part of it,” Keith breathed, smiling, as he rested his head on Lance’s shoulder.

“That’s good to hear,” Lance said as he kissed the top of Keith’s head. “It wouldn’t be the same without you, Keith. As in, my family would have no one to spill all my secrets to, completely blowing my complex image out of the water.”

“Well, happy to find out all your secrets and leave you embarrassed, Lance.” He smiled, raising his head and then planting a kiss on Lance’s lips, breathing in the cool morning air as he did so.

And it tasted good, it tasted good.

Fresh and new and familiar all at once.

Maybe it was just the reminiscence of ice cream still lingering in their mouths, sweet and cold, but home tasted good on Lance’s lips, like Keith had known it all along. All he could do was smile, smile as the sun came up to greet another day, another day in the rest of his life.

And it felt good to know.

Keith breathed a small laugh and Lance smiled.

It felt good to know that they were finally, finally home.

The Mechanic and the Sith Part 7

Part 4    

Part 5

Part 6

Fandom: Star Wars: The Force Awakens

Pairing: Kylo Ren x Reader

Warnings: A bit of fluff, a bit of feeling possessive

Author’s Note: I think it’s time for me to write a master list for this story…which will be done soon. Here is part 7! Hope you enjoy!

Part 7

Deep down below the base there was a cantina that only a select few knew about–a place where people can get away from the realities of war for the night and relax as they had a few drinks. A fellow co-worker tipped you off as they saw you walk around in boredom. Perhaps they felt bad for you that you worked for Kylo Ren.


That night you decided to check it out, if only to get away from the stress for a few hours. Your outfit was simple; a pair of black pants with laced-up boots and a black tank. The only color you wore was a sage green necklace your grandma gave you before you left. You touched the tiny beads wondering how she was on that small plant you abandoned. You might of found her ways annoying, but once in a while she would pop into your head to wish her good health.

You took a map of how to get to the cantina before you exited your room.  There were many twists and turns as you made your way down, even secret lift–it was kind of a pain. Before you knew it you heard uplifting music coming down from the hallway. As you entered you saw that it was a circular room with a bar in the middle in a “U” shape, in the middle was the band that made a few dance. There were creatures that you had never seen before; some large, some small, some with long necks…

“Where did  everybody come from?’ You asked yourself as you sat at the bar to order a drink from a balding man.

At that instance, you felt a pair of eyes watching your every move. You whipped around and saw that nobody was paying any mind to you. Was it just your imagination?

Just as the large drink was placed in front of you, a young man appeared out of nowhere making you jump out of your seat.

“Hey, you’re that lady who works for Kylo Ren, aren’t you?”

You glanced at the man as you took a hold of your glass; you had never seen him around the base before, though it was not surprising since there were so many people. You took a sip of your drink, wincing a bit from the bitterness, before sitting it back down.

“Yes. As his personal mechanic–”

“A lot of people are talking about you.” He said with a big smile. This got your full attention.

“Oh? I didn’t realize I was famous.” Your cheeks turned a slight red, though you didn’t know if it was the sudden attention or the alcohol at work.

“A bit.” He continue to smile as he started to get uncomfortably close making you shift away. “How is it?”

“How is what?” You felt the muscles in your face tense up and your hand squeezed around the glass before taking a big gulp. You felt those burning eyes again, but it wasn’t from the man sitting next to you. You tried to ignore it as you took another drink.

“Hey! Give the lady another drink, well you? On me.” The man grinned at you. It was obvious what his intention was. “How is working with Kylo Ren? Is he really difficult to work with?”

You shrugged.

“I guess. You just need to know how to handle him.”  It has been a while since the last time you had a drink so it didn’t take you long for the room to start spinning, and you started to regret taking that second drink.

“Really now?” He snaked a arm around your shoulders as he leaned into whisper. “You think you can handle me?”

That was enough. You stood up from your chair and away from him, but not without your drink.

“I gotta go. But thank you for the drink.” You raised your glass in thanks, taking everything you got not to break it over his head. You turned away from him and stomped off. You felt the alcohol surge through your veins after finishing the beverage and you knew it was time to go. You couldn’t believe that you were already stumbling through the club, weaving around both humans and other species. The club became so full that it seemed like you were in a sea.

Where was the door?

Finally you were free from the circus of noise, but the environment was still spinning making it hard for you to take another step. A hand fell on your shoulder making you whirl around and punching the person across the face, but not without falling over.

Strong hands grabbed you before you could fall on the ground. You looked up to glare at the person to see that the hood had fell back slightly enough to see the face of the person who held you.

“Oh shi–Kylo. I didn’t kno–I wouldn’t of–” You felt ice cold fear as he looked at you with his dark eyes. When he smirked it confused you. You were sure he would be angry with the welt you gave him, but he seemed more amused by your state.

“Why are you here?” You swiveled in his grasp which made him grip you harder.

“Not important now.” With one swift movement he whipped you up from your feet and held you bridal-style. You tried to fight against him. “I can’t let my personal mechanic walk in your state. People will talk.”

Defeated, you put an arm around his shoulder to keep yourself steady as he begin to walk away from the cantina.

He knew his way around the back hallways where nobody would see you the two of you–which made you feel somewhat insulted in your drunken state. As he walked on, you felt your eyes start to get heavy and your head somehow found it’s way on his shoulder. You ignored the his tense body as you felt yours relax against his, your mind wandering the past few weeks you had with him. You couldn’t stand him at first, he would break everything you fixed. But now, something was different but you couldn’t put your finger on what.

You looked up at him, his hood back around his face, though you can still see his nose and his lips. You had no idea what came over you, nor if you would ever remember your actions, with your other hand you placed your hand against his cheek, which made him stop in his tracks to look down at you. Before he could say anything, you stretched up, your lips inches away from his. For just a small moment your lips touched before you passed out.

****

Carefully he laid you on your bed, no movement or noise would be able to wake you up from your deep slumber. For a moment, Kylo watched you, his lips still burning from your simple touch. It was like a new fire was burning inside of him, a desire that was now at it’s peak. It angered him. He was not suppose to feel this way, a Sith in training. Only anger and hate was suppose to make him stronger, but not love–love would make him weak.

Kylo only followed you to the cantina to see if you were, indeed, trustworthy. But as he watched you in that smoky club he couldn’t help but feel haterd for the man who sat by you–and when his arm incased you in his arms… If it wasn’t for you walking away he would of made himself known to the entire cantina.

He leaned in close to you, his mouth close to your ear as he whispered;

“Don’t you know that I can kill you with just a flick of my wrist?” His gloved hand curled up into a tight ball. “You make me want to betray everything I learned, everything I worked so hard to get. Why?” He punched the mattress that you laid on which only made you turn away from him.

You were so fragile and venerable in your sleep, you probably wouldn’t know what happened. But he couldn’t take your life. Reaching out, he pulled strains of hair from your face so he can gaze upon you once more.

“I suppose this means I should make you mine.”