#self-writing

[hypmicdiaries]

Small Hifudo One-shot

Word Count: 605

As Hifumi bustled away in the kitchen, humming happily, his tired roommate was lying on the couch. A hand draped over his eyes.

A metallic clang came from the kitchen, waking up Doppo as he pulled his hand away and tilted his head over the arm of the couch so he could look into the kitchen window. "Hifumi, did you drop the pan again?" Hopefully, there aren't any dents in it.

"Sorry! I-it slipped from my hands!" It was the pan. Hifumi's head popped out from the corner of the window, a nervous smile on his lips. "Anyways, Dinner's almost ready! So get off the couch!"

Doppo let out a tired sigh, closing his eyes once again but he didn't plan on falling back asleep. He planned on sorting out his feelings and suppressed rage that he had towards everyone he's ever known. His feelings for his manager and co-workers had always been "Tolerable, Irritable," family as "Worried, Support," Jakurai as "Trust-worthy friend," and Hifumi as... "Complicated?"

His brow creased in annoyance. Why would it be complicated? Isn't Hifumi just a close friend that keeps him alive day by day? Doppo's eyes opened, and he watched as said male walk back and forth in the kitchen, passing by the window every so often with a happy smile and a cheerful hum vibrating from his throat.

Thinking back to their days in elementary, he remembered how carefree they were, just running around the school's playground. Until he remembered that one day when Hifumi came running up to him, something clutched in his hand. "Doppo-kun! Let's get married!" Hifumi's words shocked the male. Married!? When they're both of the same sex!?... At this age!?

"W-what!? No! H-hifumi, that's forbidden. Boys aren't allowed to get married!" Didn't Hifumi know anything about it? Boys and boys weren't meant to be together. He expected to see a joking smile or a disappointed frown on Hifumi's face, but he did neither. A curious light was in Hifumi's gold eyes as he tilted his head to the side like an innocent puppy.

"Boys aren't allowed? Why not?" Just as Doppo was about to explain to Hifumi what his parents had told him, Hifumi spoke up again. "We're the same sex and race! Aren't we compatible?" This innocent child. Even child Doppo could see how inexperienced he was. "Since you said no!" Grabbing Doppo's clenched fist, he forced it open and placed a grass ring on his palm. "Maybe you'll change your mind one day! I'll be waiting. Now let's play!"

A light blush appeared on Doppo's cheeks when he thought back on Hifumi's words. Would it be awkward if he asks Hifumi if he still remembers that moment? But why would it be awkward? Hifumi and Doppo were still kids when that happened!

...He couldn't bring himself to ask Hifumi. Doppo lets out an irritated sigh as he glares at the kitchen window. "What if he's still waiting..." He felt his heart skip a beat after muttering out that sentence. Maybe his feelings and ideas about marrying a person of the same sex had changed.

"Doppo~! Dinner's ready! Can you help set the table?" Hifumi popped his head out once again, a bright and happy grin now on his lips. Even though his head was hanging upside down from the arm of the couch, one look at that grin and he could feel his heart going thump against his ribcage.

Maintaining his emotions, he rolled off the couch and headed towards the kitchen. "Alright... What are we having for dinner tonight?"

Maybe he would come round to the idea sooner or later~.

[carusuminiere]

favara, enzo. it was a name that held little meaning to the men that had rescued him from death. he was indebted to them now. it was not the first time he'd been owned. he doubted it would be the last. this boy, this man, this carusu. he took in a breath as he scrapped dried blood from out under his finger nails with the tip of his stiletto. — ‘bastardo.’ he hissed, as if he were a child unwilling to let anyone hear him curse. the days were unkind to him as they often brought upon him tidings of death. his only respite were the nights he spent in solitude. flakes of dried blood came from his fingers as he scrapped away any evidence of his crimes. it didn't matter much; he could still feel it. he paused his movements for a moment sitting on a stack of hay as he recalled the killing. enzo let out a shaky breath when he could still feel the resistance of his blade going into the jugular of spadaro's thugs. he closed his knife and allowed it to sit behind him, unburdened for just a moment. ‘i had to,’ he said with uncertainty to justify the means. in moments like this, he thought of luca. was it like this for him? did he suffer from the same rush of adrenaline and excitement from the death he had caused? it felt wrong and yet—it lingers. for survival. he could hear luca saying, ‘for survival.’ enzo repeated out loud to ground himself. he had no reason to feel a pit in his stomach at death. it was all that was promised to him when he was born. maybe the blood was better than the soot that would cover his hands in the mines. he felt himself sink into the his spot atop the hay at the idea. this couldn't be all there was, and yet, there was no evidence that anything would change. he was still a carusu. worse. he was a killer. the heaviness of it all ate at him but, he couldn't move as the nature of his actions gnawed on his flesh. enzo looked to the ray of light that entered the barn and wondered if god could forgive him. deep down, he knew he wasn't worthy of that and turned his head away—grabbing his knife to take in the reflection of himself on the blade. ‘this is who you are.’ he told himself, the favara name being lost in the depth of his sins. ‘andare avanti.’

[lauriescages]

That Kind of Night || Self-Writing

Location: Grit Pit Content Warning: References to violence

Laurie cussed quietly to himself as he listened to the baukbear scream as the lamina  held it down under the light. As dingy as this place could be sometimes, Laurie knew they’d only had it on to try and make it a fair fight. But he’d only just gotten the lighting to his liking around the baukbear cage. What? Was he just supposed to go out and find another one? Not fucking likely. If his bosses wanted a new one when that one had died so quickly, they could send somebody else. 

Turning away from the fight, Laurie grabbed a rag to wipe his hands with before heading down toward the cages. That fight had been shorter than anticipated, so they’d probably try to squeeze in another. He needed to check the feeding schedule and figure out what would be smart to send. Technically that wasn’t his job either, but Laurie liked to be ready for the occasions where he did get asked.

“Hedge hound versus hellhound?” he got asked as he was flipping through his paperwork.

Laurie didn’t even look up. “Come on, Jack. Would anyone even bet on the hedge hound in that?” he asked. “No way the hedge hound can strangle fast enough to avoid being burned?”

“Well, maybe that’s the angle,” Jack mused. “Can the hedge hound kill the hellhound before it’s forced to regenerate? We make the odds stay with no, give ‘em a chance to bet on the longshot. Make a little money on a last minute fight.” He shrugged and patted Laurie on the back. “Good thinking. Get them ready.”

Laurie grumbled to himself as he headed toward the hedge hound cage. He kept grumbling as a few others stepped in to help get the beasts upstairs and into cages on either side of the pit ring. Once the bell rang and the cages were opened, Laurie leaned against the wall, barely caring enough to watch. As predicted, the hellhound burned hot and ended things rather quickly. But at least that meant both were going back to the cages. One less thing he’d have to hear about later.

The action continued in the ring, but since it was two part-timers against each other, neither was anything Laurie needed to care about. He went about his nightly routine, heading down the hall over and over with buckets of fresh meat, rotting meat, specialty plants, and anything else needed in the night’s food schedule. He had his beasts’ cage locations memorized by this point, and Laurie could let his mind wander some while working. He occasionally risked putting in earbuds, but not being able to hear the beasts always put him on edge. 

“Easy night?” Jack asked, leaning against the wall in Laurie’s resource room as things upstairs must have wrapped up.

“Go fuck yourself,” Laurie responded without any heat. “Explain to me why that light was close enough to sunshine to actually kill my baukbear?”

“Your baukbear?” Jack repeated instead of answering the question.

Laurie rolled his eyes and filled another bucket of grains to finish out tonight’s feed list. “I’m the one who had to do all that work to get ready for it, so yeah. Mine. All this work to keep these beasts alive, and what thanks do I get? Certainly none from them, and then you let your prize fighter kill something that should be hard to kill in this setting.”

Jack shrugged. “Not my prize fighter any more than your baukbear. Neither of us gets paid enough for those claims.”

Laurie snorted and raised the bucket in a sort of toast. “All right, fine. I’ll give you that.”

[lauriescage]

That Kind of Night || Self-Writing

Location: Grit Pit

Content warning: References to violence

Laurie cussed quietly to himself as he listened to the baukbear scream as the lamina  held it down under the light. As dingy as this place could be sometimes, Laurie knew they’d only had it on to try and make it a fair fight. But he’d only just gotten the lighting to his liking around the baukbear cage. What? Was he just supposed to go out and find another one? Not fucking likely. If his bosses wanted a new one when that one had died so quickly, they could send somebody else. 

Turning away from the fight, Laurie grabbed a rag to wipe his hands with before heading down toward the cages. That fight had been shorter than anticipated, so they’d probably try to squeeze in another. He needed to check the feeding schedule and figure out what would be smart to send. Technically that wasn’t his job either, but Laurie liked to be ready for the occasions where he did get asked.

“Hedge hound versus hellhound?” he got asked as he was flipping through his paperwork.

Laurie didn’t even look up. “Come on, Jack. Would anyone even bet on the hedge hound in that?” he asked. “No way the hedge hound can strangle fast enough to avoid being burned?”

“Well, maybe that’s the angle,” Jack mused. “Can the hedge hound kill the hellhound before it’s forced to regenerate? We make the odds stay with no, give ‘em a chance to bet on the longshot. Make a little money on a last minute fight.” He shrugged and patted Laurie on the back. “Good thinking. Get them ready.”

Laurie grumbled to himself as he headed toward the hedge hound cage. He kept grumbling as a few others stepped in to help get the beasts upstairs and into cages on either side of the pit ring. Once the bell rang and the cages were opened, Laurie leaned against the wall, barely caring enough to watch. As predicted, the hellhound burned hot and ended things rather quickly. But at least that meant both were going back to the cages. One less thing he’d have to hear about later.

The action continued in the ring, but since it was two part-timers against each other, neither was anything Laurie needed to care about. He went about his nightly routine, heading down the hall over and over with buckets of fresh meat, rotting meat, specialty plants, and anything else needed in the night’s food schedule. He had his beasts’ cage locations memorized by this point, and Laurie could let his mind wander some while working. He occasionally risked putting in earbuds, but not being able to hear the beasts always put him on edge. 

“Easy night?” Jack asked, leaning against the wall in Laurie’s resource room as things upstairs must have wrapped up.

“Go fuck yourself,” Laurie responded without any heat. “Explain to me why that light was close enough to sunshine to actually kill my baukbear?”

“Your baukbear?” Jack repeated instead of answering the question.

Laurie rolled his eyes and filled another bucket of grains to finish out tonight’s feed list. “I’m the one who had to do all that work to get ready for it, so yeah. Mine. All this work to keep these beasts alive, and what thanks do I get? Certainly none from them, and then you let your prize fighter kill something that should be hard to kill in this setting.”

Jack shrugged. “Not my prize fighter any more than your baukbear. Neither of us gets paid enough for those claims.”

Laurie snorted and raised the bucket in a sort of toast. “All right, fine. I’ll give you that.”

[astoryaboutmi]

DIA O4

Escreva sobre momentos ou ocasiões que você se sentiu ou se sente muito amada. Escrita Terapêutica por @Vanessa Rodler

[astoryaboutmi]

Dia O3

Desenvolvemos nosso autocuidado quando nos dedicamos ao nosso amor por nós mesmos. Liste coisas que você pode fazer sozinha e se sentir bem com isso. Você tem feito as coisas desta lista? Por onde você poderia começar? Escrita Terapêutica por @Vanessa Rodler

Eu gosto de sair sozinha. Sair para ir ao cinema, ao teatro, para ir a museus, exposições, gosto de fazer as coisas no meu tempo, de poder admirar as obras, ler as descrições, as histórias, sem pressa nenhuma. Quando vou acompanhada, tenho a impressão de incomodar pela minha lentidão, e me sinto culpada em passar horas e horas. E sinto que não consigo realmente aproveitar o momento. Também gosto de viajar sozinha, traçar os meus próprios trajetos, selecionar os lugares que eu gostaria de conhecer e me permitir passar quanto tempo eu quiser nesse lugar. De escolher e conhecer restaurantes, sem me preocupar em conciliar o que os outros também gostariam de comer naquele momento. Gosto de ficar sozinha em casa, e ter a oportunidade de fazer as coisas no meu tempo. Arrumar uma estante, ler algum livro, ver alguma série, simplesmente ficar deitada na cama. São nesses momentos em que mais me sinto relaxada, já que existe tanta pressão na minha vida, no meu dia-a-dia devido ao trabalho... Que, simplesmente fazer o que eu quiser, quando eu quiser, se torna a melhor coisa do mundo para mim. Dessas coisas, raramente consigo fazê-las durante o ano. Apesar de me sentir muito solitária, sem amigos verdadeiros, também me sinto um pouco responsável por distrair e proporcionar passeios legais para minha mãe. Então, nunca saio sozinha, ou fico sozinha em casa, e coisa do tipo.

[astoryaboutmi]

DIA O2

Liste ações que você deixou de fazer em sua vida porque alguém, um dia, lhe disse que não eram importantes o suficiente para merecer atenção. Leia-as. Como se sente? Marque as que você gostaria de voltar a fazer. Reflita. Escrita Terapêutica por @Vanessa Rodler

A ação mais recente que deixei de fazer foi em 2023. Eu tinha, e tenho, o desejo de ir para Curitiba nas minhas férias. Então, comentei com uma pessoa do trabalho sobre essa vontade de realizar essa viagem, e tudo o que escutou foi: "O que você vai fazer lá? Lá não tem nada pra fazer e conhecer!" Depois disso, desanimei e pensei que realmente não seria algo que valeria a pena, e desisti dessa ideia. Hoje, penso que, talvez, esse comentário tenha sido motivado mais por inveja. É como dizem, não devemos e nem podemos compartilhar nossos sonhos com as pessoas. Esse ano, decidi que faria essa viagem, mas ao mesmo tempo, não sei se terei oportunidade como no passado. Quando era mais nova, eu tinha muita inclinação à arte: adorava desenhar, pintar, colorir, enfim. Meu primeiro vestibular foi para Arquitetura e Urbanismo (do qual passei, mas não tinha condições financeiras para cursar, então não dei prosseguimento). Então, minha tia me falou que era uma besteira, que eu deveria fazer administração, que isso me daria mais oportunidades de emprego, e que arte não levava a nada. E também foi algo que desisti. Anos depois, realmente cursei Administração, e não posso falar que não seja algo de que eu goste: pelo contrário, eu gosto das rotinas administrativas, gosto de mexer com planilhas, e todos esses clichês. Mas sinto falta de exercer algum tipo de criatividade. Não consigo mais me sentar e desenhar por horas. Sinto que perdi mais uma coisa onde eu pudesse me expressar. Algumas vezes, eu tento voltar, comprei lápis, papel sulfite, um livro de colorir, e todas essas coisas, que mantiveram meu interesse por... Sei lá, no máximo 20 minutos? Algo assim.