#year challenge

[cutebutcreepyalien]

I am trying a new challenge, making a list daily for the things that feelt good each day. This is meant to be a Daily gratitude challenge or a challenge that - if you have mostly pessimistic thoughts - may help you focus on other things. This is not intent to force positivity on anyone, I thought that each day, while 10 things can go wrong, if I manage to give enough attention to the ONE thing that make me feel good, and I practice this way of seeing life, my depressive thoughts may go away eventually. And I have nothing to lose in trying anyway so... Feel free to join if you want.

15 January 2022 ~

Today I could buy a pair of nice shoes and a gift for my aunt Giuliana 🌹!

Had a nice time with my parents!

Had the time to play with Planescape Torment!

I was invited to an event ( I will probably not be able to attend because of my anxiety but), it's nice they thought about inviting me.

[isthatbloodonhisshirt]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

“I am not Bella!” he insisted, shaking his fist angrily at Jackson, as if he’d been the one to suggest he was. “I am not Bella! I am, like, a Jacob, at least!”

Lydia made a noise of debate from his right and he whipped around to look at her.

“What?! What was that sound?!”

“You’re more of a Mike,” she insisted, shrugging neatly and flipping some curls over her shoulder.

“Wha—” Stiles had never been so offended in his life! “I am not! No way! I am a solid Jacob!”

“Mike,” she argued.

“Who’s Mike?” Scott asked.

“Shut up, Scott!” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at him but still glaring at Lydia.

[majaewa]

Week 19 in pink

[scrubstudies]

t u e s d a y , j u n e 2 7 2 0 1 7 - d a y 2 / 3 6 6

today i worked the morning shift! got my car washed on my break! came home and cleaned and started more laundry!

also this book is the cutest thing ever, thank u arden rose for blessing us.

[recreatemyownfate]

Weight training day 2. It’s storming outside, so I got the gym to myself for awhile.

[isthatbloodonhisshirt]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

“Don’t worry about it,” the sheriff said again. “You usually gush about Derek, so why don’t we focus more on that instead?”

Stiles let out a small laugh, shaking his head and taking another bite of his food. He’d been ranting and raving about the noise complaint all day, first to Scott, and now to his father. He supposed it was time to let the topic die and move on to something else.

“I’d love the opportunity to speak to him more often, but he’s always running around doing things, and he’s such a busy guy.” Stiles shrugged. “He’s in charge of four buildings, and with over fifty apartments apiece, I don’t know how he has enough time to stay sane.”

“Even he gets time off,” his dad argued. “If you want to get to know him, just ask him out to coffee.”

“I can’t just ask him out to coffee,” Stiles insisted, appalled. “Do you know what the dating scene is like nowadays? Brutal. Brutal, dad! Remember Lydia?”

“Lydia was out of your league,” his father argued with a small smile.

[isthatbloodonhisshirt]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

“What happened? Where are you? What’s that sound?”

Derek jumped, having momentarily forgotten Scott was on the phone with him because Stiles had started moving. He’d stalked over to the other side of the cave, still eying Derek warily and growling, then settled protectively over a mass of clothes, leaves and animal innards. It was probably where he was sleeping.

Lovely. No wonder he smelled like death.

“Stiles,” Derek said, answering Scott’s question. Or, one of them, at least.

“Stiles? What do you—Stiles is making that noise?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“How fast do you think you can make it to the south lot of the Preserve?”

[isthatbloodonhisshirt]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

“You’re late,” Derek informed him coldly, jaw clenched. He barely even moved his mouth to speak. This guy was seriously scary.

And because Stiles was suicidal, he said, “No, I’m Stiles.”

The look he got could’ve curdled milk. Stiles even noticed that Derek’s muscles were tensing, arms bulging even more and wow this guy was scary and hot but mostly scary holy shit.

“You’re not funny,” Derek informed him coldly.

Stiles shrugged. “I think that’s a matter of opinion.”