#literally procrastinated finishing this set for months because it was such a struggle to make these look half-decent lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ziipzeepzop-eez · 3 months

Note

hey zeepie! HIHIHIHII!!!!

ermmm

irl bestie headcannons? why the hell not, happy Valentine's season (or smt) a lot of this is purely imaginative, as im cautious about ppl online. I hope you feel better ❤️

if we were irl besties, I would prolly be afraid to text you a lot. id send u shitty memes and funny shit id find on Pinterest and think you would judge me about it, before seeing you happily text me back.

we would text about things happening, like gen alpha slang, or about our future. lots of intrusive thoughts from my way with frightened commentary from you

while I may be busy often, I try to fit my friends with my schedule, even if they don't match often (they go to public school) so youd be invited to Mexican parties, bday parties, skating hangouts, or even the once-in-a-life-time boy girl party.

and other times, I just want to spend time w/ you. sometimes I would invite you to the park to simply interact, or we would visit each other's house for a self care day. Everytime I see you, I just tackle you in a giant hug, as you struggle to hold me a bit.

id bring all of my favorite masks, along with the best snacks possible. you would prolly have the blankets and towels. imagine me loading up fortnite on my Nintendo as I make you an account for your tv 💀💀💀

like the 'its my first time' adult x 'imma protect you no matter what' 16 yr old trope. you'd call me cringe as I finish setting you up, and invite to my party for 3 rounds of battle royale.

we lost all three 😭.... but! but- we did get at least 9 kills on average per round, that's a win for me 👀 the opps were too strong for us 😞🫴🏾

id steal your remote as i press the tubi app, choosing some trash iteration of the monkey king. you'd laugh so hard about it the whole time, while id be rambling about the quality of CGI and the differences between modern movies.

while we talk I may poke you a bit, you swatting my hands threatening to fight. it's just smt abt tickling that makes a blk person wanna throw hands 🫠 👊🏾💥👊🏾💥other times id sooth through your hair in a spaced out silence, not really minding anything.

you'd ask about my locs sometimes, and my haircare routine. (thinking abt it now, I haven't gotten my hair done in almost a month 💀) so you'd prolly ask why my roots are so fluffy instead of rolled up. a smile would com across your face as I continue to explain, telling you about the palm rolling + clipper process, the dangers of water, and oil buildup. you laugh as I tell you about my dream to dye my roots neon green, keeping my tips pink.

(fun fact: [and this could apply to every hair type, but especially locs] when you leave water in locs w/o drying properly, you could literally grow matted mold. it can become very smelly and strong, because hair in general ESPECIALLY CONJOINED HAIR soaks up water like a fuckin towel. and if you arent careful about the products u use/what products you use, and how often you wash your hair, it can cause oil buildup pretty easily.

im not sure why, but when I add water to my hair, my scalp dries up and it starts to shed 😭😭 I SWEAR I USE OIL-)

and sometimes ill disappear for a month. it won't be on purpose of course! as soon as I get my phone in my hands, I'm racing to send you my entire meme bank, making you cackle during the early hours of the morning.

and when we can't meet up, well just ramble to each other over call, or play shitty Roblox obbies on discord. throw writing ideas, communicate, au's fictional and irl, existential dread, carpet fuzz. anything really!

and we would be really good friends too- like, top tier verbalization, positive affirmations, and happiness all the way ❤️

the only thing I could think of you and me arguing about is the use of my n word tendencies for stupid things. or my procrastination-

but other than that, being your irl bestie would be awesome! id make sure of it ❤️

ohh uhym

just, uh, aha- gimme a second? chippy?- babe– ,,

[scampers away behind a conveniently placed bush, curls down into a squatting ball so only the back of my head is visible] Guueuuueeeeeeeeghehehgehegheeeghhhh,,, gaaaaasp– ghhhhhuuuuuuueeeerrrrrghhhhgehegeheeeeghehhhnngh 😭😭😭

THIS IS!! SO!! 😭😭 THIS!! 💥☝🏾 CHIP. 😫 CHIP. 😭 CHIPPY?? CHIPPYYYYYY 👹

I read this groggily after waking up from my sadness-induced nap and it immediately, IMMEDIATELY !!! ... made me smile. Like, so so big. SO, so BIG!!!

Aaaand I am so, MAD, that we don't know each other irl because?? I need this?? In my life??? I've,,, ALWAYS needed someone like this??????? & to finally have her!! But she is not here IN FRONT OF ME FOR ME TO HAVE AS THE BESTEST BESTIE EVER??? IT SHOULD BE A SIN PUNISHABLE BY INSTANT LIGHTNING STRIKE DEATH FROM GOD HIMSELF JKHHJHJHDJBSHDJHJ 👹😭🤬💔💔 LIKE I AM- FEENING FOR THIS ☝🏾 FRIENDSHIP EXACTLY GRUUURAGAHAGAAAAAAGHHHH

Like why are you not here in front of me rn?? WHy, *chokes* do you not live across from me in my lil ghetto ass neighborhood where the only thing that'd motivate me to go outside is you calling to me from my window?? Like it's not fair it simply isn't fair as a matter of fact, i think it's racist that we aren't irl friends like and ALL OF THIS DURING O U R MONTH likeeee. *sucks teeth* seems sketchy to me bro 😤💔 [I continue to ramble if only to shield the sounds of my heart shattering quite loudly in the background]

THE TUBI PART DID IT FOR ME 😭😭 HOW DO YOU KNOW I'VE SEEN THE CRUDDY REITERATIONS OF THE MONKEY KING??? I'd palette it MUCH more easier if it were you watching it with me instead of my parents :'')) I'm the type to crack up obnoxiously during movies and shows - our chaotic energy would bounce of e/o seamlessly and we'd be our own movie fr 🎬🤣

I ain't no gamer but I'd do it for you bookie. even if the opps did get us in the end. we did our best, trust 😞✊🏾 magic of friendship always prevails, feel me?

And !! Girl !! Black girl hair knowledge 😍💅🏾✨ AAAAAAAAAA!!! FROTHING AT THE MOUTH FOR IT SJDKDJ (/ns btw ksjsjsj just as a forewarning 😭😭💀 you get me girl) PLEASEEE I don't have thoroughly kinky hair, since i'm mixed so i never got the whole concept of it and anytime I'm bein made aware of afro-centric hair care i EAT THAT ISH UPPPPPPP. u're my new knowledge plug. like, this was edumacational. AND HONESTLY I THINK YOU HELPED ME TOO??? 🤣 I get reeeally bad buildup sometimes but I think it's because I air dry my hair, not really much at all!! :')) yes yes i know, cue the screams of horror. 💀 I SWEARRRR I'M LEARNING AND GROWING I JUST NEED TO USE MY BLOWDRYER JKJKS

AAAAAAAA we'd dye our hair together!!! 😍 that's honestly such a cute color combo, wholly underrated !! my tenderheaded self, but I'm a sucker for people stroking my hair/head bcuz it rarely happens nowadays 😭

sitting in comfortable silence? casual healthy platonic affection? posting up when you tryna start somethin with them pokes and tickles?? 😔✊🏾 yes please yes to all of it.

fr tho you can catch this fade if you keep tryin me bbygirl i be screeching like a banshee jsjsjsjss

UGHGHHHHHHHGGGGGGHHHHH the ✨positive reaffirmations and 🩷verbalization of love🩷✨

Like this a whole dream.

,,,real images of me caught in 8K UHD surround sound 32 Gigs ram, HDR GEFORCE RTX, TI-80 texas instruments, Triple A duracell battery ultrapower 100 Cargador Compatible iPhone 1A 5 W 1400 + Cable 100% 1 Metro Blanco Compatible iPhone 5 5 C 5S 6 SE 6S 7 8 X XR XS XS MAX GoPro hero 1 2 terabyte xbox series x Dell UltraSharp 49 Curved Monitor - U4919DW Sony HDC-3300R 2/3" CCD HD Super Motion Color Camera, 1080p Resolution Toshiba EM131A5C-SS Microwave Oven with Smart Sensor, Easy Clean Interior, ECO Mode and Sound On/Off, 1.2 Cu. ft, Stainless Steel HP LaserJet Pro M404n Monochrome Laser Printer with Built-in Ethernet (W1A52A) GE Voluson E10 Ultrasound Machine LG 23 Cu. Ft. Smart Wi-Fi Enabled InstaView Door-in-Door Counter-Depth Refrigerator with Craft Ice Maker GFW850SPNRS GE 28" Front Load Steam Washer 5.0 Cu. Ft. with SmartDispense, WiFi, OdorBlock and Sanitize and Allergen - Royal Sapphire Kohler K-3589 Cimarron Comfort Height Two-Piece Elongated 1.6 GPF Toilet with AquaPiston Flush Technology:

......,,,, SOmeone should hELP her. 🧍👀

[clears throat and composes myself]

Ahhh, my Chippy Choco Chip girl. You are already such bestie material online, I can only imagine how viscerally that translates to in person :'')))

If I can get a little personal here?? Ever since I was young, I wished and prayed and begged, for a friend. Like, a GOOD friend. A best friend. Someone who'd be there for me and actually want to spend time with me; oh you have no idea how much you healed little me typing this out, Chips (´；ω；｀) Tumblr, our moots as a whole have also healed the little Lilo in me and have simultaneously become my Stitch. :'))

This is the bestest thing I could've received for Valentine's (and yes I'm considering it as my valentine's/galentine's gift from u 🤨 problem?? *chkt chkt* ???..... yeah i didn't think so 😌. thank you.) and I am just. BLESSED. 🙏🏾😫

THANK YOU JESUS. JEHOVAH. GOD. ELOHIM. FOR, AT USER ITSYAGIRLCHIP. MY CHIPPY CHOPPY GIRL.

I love you pookie. ❤❤🫶🏾🫶🏾 Thanks for making me smile so hard my face almost stayed permanently that way today.

#"૮₍ •⤙•˶|✉️ beep! inbox! ˎˊ˗#⸝⸝ ꒰ my best girl chipㆍ₊⊹❣🍪#and that one is here to stay.#i'll make sure of it.#love you girl #i rlly do #saving this in a whole new linked page like frfr

6 notes · View notes

ecoamerica · 23 days

Text

youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

6K notes · View notes

needleandhammer · 3 years

Text

From Simmer to Score

Pairing: Soft!Curtis Everett x Reader

Summary: Curtis is good with his hands. And other stuff.

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit, smut, oral sex, penetration, fingering, dub con breeding, unprotected sex, breeding kink sort of, size kink, petite!reader, Curtis' fingers

Word count: 4k

A/N: This doesn't really fit the prompt i chose from @stargazingfangirl18 's 5k Soft Dark Challenge: "You hire a local handyman to help you with a few home projects." But the prompt still inspired this. I wanted to take the prompt somewhere more explicitly dark but once again my contribution to this challenge turned marshmallow soft. This is an au, non-apocalypse au, normal life au, idk. Just self-indulgent. Also, it was a struggle finding a gif of clean Curtis. Because he's clean in this and not living on a train, i swear.

“Try again. Very good. Let’s have you run through the exercises and then we’ll take a look at the new homework."

At your smile, the little girl nods and quickly turns to concentrate on coordinating her footwork on the pedals of your old Altenberg while reading the notes in front of her.

You back away, heading to the kitchen for some iced tea. You nearly forget your other guest who sits at the table.

This is the third time he’s accompanied Wendy for her lessons. For a man of his size, Curtis makes no sound except the faint swish of pages turning in his book. Like before, he arrived with Wendy, nodded a greeting at you, waited for your invitation to the kitchen, and then spent the entire hour silently reading.

You pull the fridge door open and pour tea into three glasses. You quietly slide one towards him. Curtis’ eyes flicker up to you, brilliantly blue, and he gives you a low murmur.

“Thanks.”

You’re about to return to Wendy when you hear your name in Curtis’ smooth baritone.

He nods to the notepad left on the table. “I, uh, noticed your reminder to call for maintenance. Something wrong?”

“Oh.” You tidy up the table, sheepish at being caught procrastinating house chores. “Just needed a second look at the water heater. The repair company came by and we tested things out when they were done, but the next day I had no hot water.”

You grimace, thinking of taking another cold shower.

“If you’re okay with it, I can grab my tool bag from my car and take a look,” he says.

You’re not prepared for the offer. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

He shakes his head, no hesitance. “I don’t mind at all. As long as you don’t.”

“I mean. I-I would really appreciate the help.”

Your time with Wendy ends after you review practice goals with her until her next lesson.

Curtis joins you two. “Hot water is running again.”

Your jaw drops and you skip to the kitchen. Hot water pours out of your faucet. You return, unable to resist grinning widely at him.

“Thank you, Curtis. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Curtis taught my dad everything about fixing houses!” Wendy chirped. He offers her a crooked smile.

“Do you have everything?” you ask your young pupil.

While Wendy thanks you and you help her pack, Curtis watches on with a faint curve to his lips.

“Edgar’s changing over to late shifts for the next couple of months. I’ll probably be driving Wendy to lessons again.”

You nod. “Sounds good. See you both then.”

After they leave, you enjoy a glorious steamy shower and then you settle onto your couch with a plate of leftover grilled veggies and fish.

Reviewing your schedule, you consider taking on one or two more students. It was years ago that you gave private lessons to help pay for college. Nearly a decade of moving between a few jobs, you are now in a quiet suburb working with a team of digital designers. The job allows you to work from home half the week, a flexibility you take great appreciation in. The professional stability encouraged you to return to music and to helping others develop their musical interests.

Wendy is your only student at the moment as you want to ease into taking on this additional responsibility. You smile, recalling your initial meeting with Wendy and her father, Edgar. Her father’s bubbly energy is such a stark contrast to Curtis. Edgar opened up quickly, sharing that he and Wendy’s mother were no longer together, that he would support whatever Wendy wanted to do. There was a perpetually youthful vigor to the room when Edgar was present.

Wendy calls Curtis, Uncle, and his adoration for her is clear. He barely said two words when he was here the first time. It doesn’t bother you. You get the impression Curtis purposely tries to not draw attention to himself, and you can empathize with that preference for tranquility.

_ _ _ _

It’s a windy day, heavy with rain clouds, the next time Wendy and Curtis are over.

“I saw your screen door was down. Planning on replacing it?” Curtis asks when you wrap up with Wendy.

“Nah. I was just going to look up what I would need and try fixing it myself.”

“It’s kind of heavy.”

His tone doesn’t imply any skepticism aimed at you and you’re not offended. You’re used to people calling you ‘small,’ though you’re not small so much as you’re short. You like to think you take up ample space. You also admit strength is not something you have in abundance. Your whole life you relied on family and friends for a lot of literal heavy lifting. But Curtis already helped you out once.

“I could fix it up.”

“I won’t ask you to do that.”

“It’s no bother, really. I’m happy to help out.”

He promises to be quick about it. While he works, Wendy happily practices on your piano.

“I have Oreos,” you announce.

She pauses to grab a cookie. “Thank you so much for letting me practice longer.”

“Of course, dear.”

She chats a bit about her upcoming birthday plans, as children are wont to do.

Curtis pops his head in. “All set. Do you want to take a look?”

You follow him out back. Swinging the screen door on its hinges, you nodded appraisingly.

“I suppose it passes inspection.” You look up with a cheeky smile, pleased to see Curtis’ lips twitching. “Thank you. Really, Curtis. I do wish you’d let me pay you.”

He shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Besides, you’re great with Wendy. I’m grateful for that.”

You can tell he loves Wendy just as much as if he was her father. “In that case, I shall give Wendy her next lesson for free.”

He blinks at you, trailing behind as you make your way inside and calling out to Wendy.

Curtis has resigned himself to a quiet, bare life. He doesn't think he wants anything much. He has Edgar’s loyalty, a result of the brotherhood he formed in his impoverished teen years. They survived together, looked out for each other. Once Wendy came along like a little star burning in a smoggy midnight, Curtis counted himself lucky to witness the little girl growing up. A chance to help nourish one seed.

The first time he arrived with Wendy at your home, Curtis couldn’t help listening in on the entire lesson, making no progress in his book. Your clear voice, your generous encouragement. You, light on your feet moving so swiftly. You, barely reaching his shoulders yet mighty in spirit, curvy and sensuous. Curtis had an urge to lift you in his palms to be stored safely in his pocket.

_ _ _ _

And so things follow. Wendy diligently learning and Curtis primarily accompanying her, taking his place at your kitchen table. You come to enjoy his steady, grounding presence just a couple steps away from you and Wendy.

Now and then, he’ll notice some upkeep you’re doing – a leaky faucet, a box of new light bulbs on your counter – and volunteer his assistance. You are reluctant to put him to work, sure that he spends enough of his days working and doing chores in his own home and besides these are tasks you can handle even if you find them tedious. Curtis is always gentle in his offers, always obtains your permission first. As time goes by and you grow less shy about accepting his help and he grows more comfortable in your space, you realize working with his hands is second nature to Curtis.

It doesn't take long for Curtis to admit to himself he wants to be near you.

Curtis doesn’t meddle. He doesn’t mingle. He doesn’t have any interest in widening his social circle. He is aware you thrived on your own for a long time, just like him; and like he has Edgar and Wendy, you have a small close-knit group of friends. Lending a hand to you doesn’t count because you are like him.

Maybe this is why he lets his guard down under your roof. There is something kindred in your calm nature that his soul responds to. Under your roof, no silences need to be filled; no pretenses forced upon him. Your invitation to rest is unspoken – he hears it and almost weeps. The more time he spends with you, like two wavelengths in tune, the stronger his urge to insert himself. To fix, or in some way leave his mark on your home. Curtis doesn’t have any interest in widening his social circle. Lending a hand to you didn't count. Until he cannot help it. He doesn’t reach out for you, doesn’t try to prove you’ll curve perfectly within his arms; but he’ll ensure your softness can curl up in a sturdy home and delight in simple pleasures.

One evening, when Edgar works later than usual, you ask if Wendy and Curtis would join you for dinner.

“Nothing fancy. I have some noodle soup and salad. Curtis, can you call Edgar to meet us here?”

Wendy sets the table. Curtis assists with the food.

He’s quick to cup your hand in his when it's nicked with a knife. You can’t help leaning into him as he runs your finger under water, wraps it in clean paper towel. He finishes with the salad, making you sit at the table.

Edgar joins you all, tired but quickly gaining energy with food and a few sips of wine. You are full and warmed by their company. While Edgar cheers on Wendy while she practices from her book, you feel Curtis’ fingers curl over your hand. His thumb brushes over your cut. You share a smile with him.

_ _ _ _

You settle into your little Toyota only to find it won’t start. It stumps you because you never had issues with this car before. You have no experience with car maintenance and don’t know the first thing to check for an engine that won’t wake.

Calling Curtis to see if you can reschedule, he insists that he can swing by to pick you up.

He had called you, his voice almost shy. He wanted to surprise Wendy for her birthday with a piano and asked for your help.

You direct Curtis to the string instruments shop in the city’s downtown area. The two of you are greeted by a sales staff upon entry. When asked, Curtis looks to you, wordless, so you do your best to describe to the salesperson what you're looking for.

There are several options of acoustic and digital instruments. You give little demonstrations on a few pianos that you consider reasonably priced.

“Curtis, check this one out.” Your hold on his sleeve is loose and propels him towards one of the upright Baldwin pianos.

“I think any of these would suit Wendy. The sounds are clear, and they don’t take up too much space. The salesperson said this one is second-hand and it’s in really good shape.” You press a few chords, then look up at Curtis with a smile.

He looks at you, gaze gentle. “I’m not worried about price. I’ll take whatever you recommend.”

That was his general response when you asked his opinion during your time in the shop: he was up for anything you recommended. Other than that, he trailed behind you so that the salesperson assumed you were the primary purchaser. Much like in your house, Curtis seemed to try hard to not draw attention. Oddly, you didn’t think anyone in the same room with him could help noticing him. Even with the dark apparel he favored, Curtis’ reserved nature can't hide all the intensity and strength just thrumming beneath the surface of his tall imposing build.

You convince him to sit beside you on the bench. He’s never played before, but humors you and tries random combinations of thirds with you. You watch his hands – clean, wide, with thick fingers – hover and slide along the keys.

He nudges you.

“Sorry. I was just impressed your sausage fingers are quite nimble.”

A half-hearted glare. “Thank you. For coming with me.”

“If I say you’re welcome, will you take a look at my car when we get back?”

He stays for dinner.

It starts raining and you have to rush out to gather hanging linens. He helps and you both run back inside. You're giddy at his eagerness to assist, resulting in damp clothing on you both.

“Oh, let’s dump it here. I’ll fold it tomorrow.” You are happy to leave the laundry in a pile on an armchair, in too good of a mood to care.

You catch him with his attention on you, a look so soft you have to look away, walk blindly a few steps. His touch is on your arm, turning you around just as you reach the piano.

He dips his head low to press chapped lips to yours, capturing your lips more, closing in to envelope you in his heat.

Curtis’ hands grip your hips with a quick jostle against the piano, prompting a slur of bright notes ringing from the keyboard that you are pressed against. And then he’s hitching you further up and firmly in his arms. His tongue licks against yours. You slant your open mouth, inviting him to taste, to devour you from the inside out. Your legs wrap around his waist like you belong there, tethered to this point in time. There’s no past or future, only Curtis, only feeling safe and real in his arms now now now.

You barely register Curtis moving, tipping you onto the couch cushions to hover over you so close. You can’t remember burning for someone like this. You can’t remember much of anything, focused on Curtis, solid and unyielding between your thighs, muscles buzzing with raw strength.

You want so badly to know more of him. Your hands wander shamelessly under his shirt, sliding up his wide back, grazing under to squeeze appreciatively at his pecs only to be called south by a narrowing of hair that leads you on until you bump his belt buckle.

You’re distracted by the tease of hot kisses he drops along your neck. There’s something sweet, vulnerable in how you allow him access to the delicate skin there. It makes Curtis bury his nose against the crook of your jaw, a long moment for him to whisper something like a prayer, before his tongue swirls and he nibbles your ear lobe. Your high pitched gasp hastens his desire. Your shirt is gone. Your bra untangled from your arms. Your breasts, oh, Curtis takes a mouthful of one fleshy breast, sucking greedily when you moan, breathless and aching now.

You claw at his shirt until it too disappears. You wriggle to help Curtis pull your pants and underwear off. Your legs want to yank him back to you, but he braces himself to allow just a bit more space between you both than before.

“Let me.” It’s almost a growl, and you want to say yes, but you want to kiss him more. You’re clinging by his neck, drinking from his soft lips, until you both part to draw breath.

His hand caresses your cheek, sliding over to slip two fingers into your slack mouth. Your tongue swipes at them, lips close to suck them in, eager to touch and taste any part of him. Jaw tight, Curtis pulls his fingers away and down. Down. His hand spans large over your curves and you hold your breath, grit your teeth. One finger saturated with saliva, sinks into your cunt. You swear you can feel more arousal dripping from you to soak his hand and he adds another finger, drawing short whimpers from you as his fingers withdraw and plunge in. God, you won’t ever tease him about his fingers again because they’re perfect. Agonizing in their quest to undo you.

His voice is husky groans, wanting so bad to feel your oh so tight cunt around his cock. Soon.

He tortures you, adds a third finger. You’re riding them, whimpering as he pumps them in you and parts the digits to stretch you. His weight slides away and you can only grasp at his hair, you’re barely glimpsing his head between your legs before you arch high when his thick wet tongue swirls and licks your folds, dialing up the white hot blooming inside you. His fingers curl just enough inside to press that patch against your pelvis that strings you tight as a bow. Pressing insistently, scratching with finger pads, until you burst and all you can do is chase more of that pulsing pleasure, humping against his face. Your hips quiver while Curtis laps at your slit.

His sucks grow gentle, thumb teasing your bud, helping you come down from the intense high.

You sigh his name.

“I’m here.”

“I want you.”

His arms wind around you, holding you tight while he kisses you. You can’t remember feeling anything better than being cradled like this as Curtis languidly kisses you.

He’s not rushed to move from you, so you cling to him and he loves you for it. Yes, he’s hard, but he wants to savor this. Already high on the sensation of your soft flesh underneath him, your thick thighs tight at his waist, your quiet hums of pleasure the evidence of his thorough work.

He ran from his past, from early years strife with despair, washing away those memories like dust and grime. He thought his life of isolation was one that moved him forward; but he has been stuck all this time.

Seeing you care for Wendy, Curtis realized he wanted that. He wanted what his friend had. He wanted you, and the precious something conceived between two souls that sing for one another. Soon. He’ll make your sweet little body his to protect, to warm through the nights.

_ _ _ _

“Thanks so much for having us for dinner,” Edgar says. He was been watching Wendy run around your humble backyard, chasing butterflies and searching for little frogs. He turns to you with a toothy grin. “And for your help with the gift. Wendy’s going to flip. I’m lucky to have you and Curtis both around.”

Your smile is just as affectionate. “Happy to have you here. Although,” your smile turns sly, “I’m a little disappointed that your special lady friend didn’t join us.”

“Curtis,” Edgar mutters under his breath. Curtis is washing dishes at the sink and pays no mind to any half-hearted curses directed at him.

Your brow arches, urging Edgar to talk as he can't help an embarassed grin.

“Well, she was traveling for work, unfortunately. But I know Wendy doesn’t mind her.”

The girl has whispered to you that Edgar’s girlfriend is beautiful and she wished she would become her new mom; this you keep to yourself, not wishing to embarrass or pressure your friend further.

“I’m happy to hear that.”

Edgar’s eyes slide sideways, quiet for a moment before he jumps out of his seat and heads to the door leading to the backyard. “I’ll just…uh…” He exits, trailing off without finishing his sentence.

You sigh and take another bite of your cake, indulging in the moist chocolate flavor. Glancing up, you find Curtis watching you. His attention is singular, a warm simmer in those bright blue eyes, causing you to freeze except for your tongue that finishes sweeping over your upper lip. His gaze narrows, grew weighty, tracking your tongue as it retreats into your mouth. He pushes away from the counter, steps close until he is able to drop to his knee beside your chair. One strong yank has your seat turning so you face him.

The door creaks open again.

“Well, the sun’s getting low so I think we’ll head home and wind down.” Edgar announces with his daughter close at his side. He has a boyish grin on his face, pulling Wendy towards the front of your house. "Wendy, say good bye.”

“Isn’t Curtis leaving too?”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll leave when he’s ready.”

“Have a good night, you two,” you say, walking with them to the front. Though Edgar is still cheerfully thanking you for the meal and insisting you stay inside and not see them off.

“You go on and just have a good time, both of you.” He sends a wink your way. You shake your head at him. “Curtis! You be a gentleman now.”

Quick as he can, he has Wendy secured in the car and they are on their way.

“Huh.” You lock the front door before turning to find Curtis. You can tell he wants to roll his eyes at Edgar’s antics. Instead, he closes in on you.

“Are you worried about me not being a gentleman?” he murmurs. His fingers hook under yours loosely.

You smirk. “I’m worried about you being too much of a gentleman.”

That smolder returns to his gaze. For a second, your body shivers, overwhelmed and you side step him, if only for a moment’s relief from the heat of his eyes.

You reach out. He takes your hand.

Once you’re down a layer, he grows even hotter seeing the mesh and lace number you have on. A tantalizing tease with the hard peaks of your nipples veiled in barely-there maroon. Just daring him to unwrap you. So he does.

His mouth leaves a wet trail seeking sensitive spots on your neck, you breasts, your thighs. Even as he moves, he still covers nearly all of your body, his heat and weight drowning you in want.

Your shudder has him grazing his beard up the inside of your thigh so that you arch and plea for his touch. God, all your uninhibited responses spur the blazing hunger in him. Curtis peels the mesh underwear down, impatient for a taste of you. His mouth waters, catching wafts of arousal and then he’s sucking and lapping your wet pussy. His rumbling groan is like a physical nudge that bows your back, and you remain rigid in the air at the sensation of his thick tongue pushing into you. Wide shoulders part your legs, shifting until your thighs rest on vast muscles.

You rock against him, keen at the hard sucks. Two fingers dip into, fucking you and rubbing with a dizzying rhythm that brings you over the edge.

With little effort, he holds up your hips and you feel a pillow slide under you to angle you higher. Then his muscled arms hook under your knees and he finally lines up and rocks forward. The tip of his cock parts your folds. Your breath hitches. His cock slides in, forcing your walls to stretch, to mold tightly to his girth.

“Curtis” – your hand was going point to the little bedside table with condoms.

Instead, you’re gripping a blanket. Gasping as he withdraws and your pussy tries to hold him in.

You mumble against his lips, incoherent. “The…inside..”

And then he feeds you his length again. And again, that delicious, addicting friction.

"Yes, inside," he agrees softly. "Like this."

With every pump, the spark catches and blazes higher. Curtis rises onto his knees, thrusts harder, watching your eyes flutter open and shut. He’s panting with the pretty picture of a needy you. He grips your thighs. As if his life depends on how tight he clutches you. Concentrating hard, his eyes drop low. Fuck. He can see your pussy clench, your puffy outer lips suckling his cock. Curtis swears your little body is refusing to give him up, and you’re wet but your cunt squeezes him so tight he has to drive harder into you to avoid slipping out.

You’re not even aware of your breathy moans, so turned on by his groans, the rough thrusts he gives you. There’s no grinding. Curtis can tell he’s rubbed against your g-spot and he keeps his snapping hips angled just right, one callused thumb circling your clit too lightly. And then your breaths stutter, your legs seize, your back arches. Curtis grits his teeth, keeping the exact same pace, draws out the storm of your pleasure. It’s so consuming, you lose your voice.

Just as you are able to breathe again, able to sense the physical realm around you, Curtis speeds up, bucking hard with low grunts, powering into you.

A high gasp – you feel him flood you. He drops to press his chest to you, still pumping his release into your clenching walls; and it’s too much, his cock merciless within your sensitive channel. He can’t help it, even as your legs start writhing with his unrelenting stimulation, even as he hears your hitched whimpers.

He finally stills. His lips find yours, tongue stroking deep.

Long moments later, his name is gentle, falling from your lips. “We didn’t use protection.”

Curtis nuzzles you, rubs his nose along the planes of your cheeks. Returns to suck your bottom lip. “It’s okay,” he whispers.

There’s a soft frown upon your brow that he kisses, and then scatters more kisses on your face.

“But, what if?”

“I want you. I want everything with you.”

You’re barely able to react as he nips hard at your collarbone and then rolls his hips. He’s half-hard inside you. You’re quickly losing yourself in Curtis, overwhelmed by the combination of his hungry mouth on your skin, unyielding clasp on your thigh. His thrusts persist, pins you in place, lights you up and scorches you. You’re right where he wants you, whining for more more more.

Now with each beat of his heart, Curtis has his mind’s eye on the prize. He’ll have you over and over. And you’ll grow a piece of him inside you. You are the way forward. You are his.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Hurrah, this one felt like it took forever. I blame Curtis. He didn't give himself up to me easily. Let me love you, ya broody boi! Thank you for reading!

#curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #smut #fanfic #siris5ksoftdarkchallenge

407 notes · View notes

duckprintspress · 3 years

Text

How can I write quickly?

I (hi, I’m @unforth) have been asked frequently over the years how I write a lot quickly. I’m a pretty fast writer - for example, I wrote the 5600 words of my May Trope Mayhem fill from yesterday in under 2.5 hours.

First, a little of my personal history for context. I’ve always written, starting from when I was able to string letters into (very poorly spelled) words and (horrible un-grammatical) sentences. When I started trying my hand at serious, professional-level fiction writing, I joined a community called novel_in_90, which was founded by the author Elizabeth Bear. The purpose of novel_in_90 was “to be NaNoWriMo but more realistic.” Instead of 50,000 words in 31 days, it was 67,500 words in 90 days, or 750 words a day. I participated in multiple rounds of novel_in_90 starting in mid-2005, and in 2007 I completed my first (godawful) novel. When I started, even writing a couple hundred words of day took me forever, but it got easier with time.

During those same years, I also got a job that required I do professional writing on a deadline: I was a grant writer, and I only got paid when the grants won. That often meant working fast under high pressure, culminating in the weekend I wrote and edited an entire 40 pages grant that was due on Monday. I think, if I hadn’t had a solid foundation of “regular daily plodding writing,” I’d not have been able to marathon when the moment came...and it came because I had to, not because I wanted to. However, I learned a valuable lesson: I could. Subsequently, I found that, when I had the time and space and was rested enough to use my brain, I could bust out a huge amount. Like, I wrote an entire 150,000 word novel in 17 days.

My personal record is about 200,000 words in one month (it was the month I wrote that novel; I wasn’t tracking when I did that so I don’t know exactly), 25,000 words in a day, and I’ve topped out around 3,000 words an hour. I do know people who can do more...but not many.

Not everyone will be able to do this. Flat out, I MUST preface the rest of this post by saying that. Some people will find that writing fast fits their brain, and for others, it just won’t, and that’s okay. Fast doesn’t equal better, and it isn’t inherently “good” to write fast. Furthermore, even for those who can write fast, not everyone will find the same strategies helpful. I can share what works for me. Try out one item, some items, or all of these - if writing faster is something you want to be able to do, which it certainly never has to be. Use what works for you, and discard the rest.

Sit in your chair, put your fingers on your keyboard or touch screen, and write. You can’t write 1,000 words in half an hour until you write one word, however long that one word takes. I know saying this is obvious, but I’ve been asked “how can I write fast” by people who struggle to write at all...fast can’t be your priority until you’ve got a foundation of just writing. (Honestly...fast should never be your priority, but it might be helpful to you regardless, which can make it worth learning.)

Start small. Set an achievable goal, and make yourself meet that goal (daily, weekly, whatever) come hell or high water, no matter how long it takes you. Keep the goal small at first; you’re not trying to torture yourself, you’re trying to build a skill. If you set the goal high enough that you consistently fail, you’re not teaching yourself anything. And, if you find the goal IS too high...lower it. There’s no shame in working within your limits. Think of it like starting a new work out regimen: you wouldn’t try to run a 10k at a record time if you can’t run a mile slow. Treat your fingers and your brain the same way you’d treat your legs and joints. Give them time to grow, learn, and improve before you try to push yourself.

Trying to write daily is worthwhile if you want to work on your writing speed, because you’ll be forced to try to fit it in as you’re able - that might be ten minutes in your morning, or an hour in your evening, and it might vary from day to day, but making it daily means you have to fit it in somewhere.

Building skills takes time and isn’t easy. For some people, it will come easier than for others, and even when you’re fast, going from “I can write words fast” to “I can write damn good words fast” takes practice and dedication and accepting constructive criticism - speed alone will never be worth more than writing well.

Having a community can help. Ya’ll will check in on each other, cheer each other on, remind each other that missing a day or a goal isn’t the end of the world, and keep each other’s spirits up. If you don’t know other writerly folks online, I recommend Weekend Writing Marathon ( @weekendwritingmarathon ) as a good place to start (I used to be a mod there). Once you’re trying to work up to larger word counts in a day, remember that even writing fast will take minutes or hours. You can’t write 2,500 words in an hour if you don’t set an hour aside. Make sure you’re giving yourself the room and time you need to succeed.

You will probably never be able to do high, rapid word counts every day, every week, every month. The best runners in the world don’t run marathons every day. Set realistic long term goals.

Work on projects where you have a clear idea of where you’re going. I’m not saying “pantsers” can’t write fast, because of course they can, but if you want to write fast, and well, and coherently, to create a first draft that’s in pretty good shape, you’ll do better if you have a good sense of what you’re trying to accomplish with your story. That doesn’t mean you need to do all your world building up front, or have a complete outline (I never have either). All you really need is what happens next. I tend to plan projects - and write them - one full scene at a time, with only a vague idea what’s going to come after. (I’m personally a “plantser,” and the strategies in this post will likely be most effective to other plantsers.)

Visualize ahead of time what you’d like to write...but don’t get too attached to what you visualize. When I go to bed, I plan the next scene I’m going to compose, often to the least detail. I then forget all of it overnight, at least all the specifics, and I’m left with a general sense and shape of what’s to come. You’ll never be able to replicate the “perfect” dialog you pre-conceive, so give up on trying to. Instead, play through the scene and think about the emotional beats you want to hit and plot points you want to forward. If you keep that in mind, you’ll be able to get the words out faster than if you’re agonizing over every word or regretting the “oh-so-great” idea that you’ve since forgotten.

Practice different work styles. If writing every day doesn’t work for you, try instead saying, “this is my writing day each week,” and aim for a lot that specific day, and write little or nothing other days. Try writing at different times of day and on different days, fitting it into your schedule. If you’re beating yourself up for not writing when you “should,” it’ll be that much harder to succeed, so instead, as I said for point 2 - set a reasonable goal that fits your life and working style, fitting it around your other responsibilities, and push yourself within that framework, instead of trying to shoehorn into a style that you “think you should” use to succeed.

Track your word counts, and take notes on how much you did and what project you were working on. If you’re also experimenting with different times of day and different days, make sure you note that too. I personally use a simple Excel sheet (well, Google Sheets, now) - column one is the date, column 2 is “starting word count,” column 3 is “ending word count,” column 4 is “=column 3 - column 2”, column 5 is notes. Pay attention to when you succeed at writing faster, and when you don’t, and consider what factors might have played into your success...and then try to replicate those factors next time you’re doing a sprint. Control as many variables as you can while you’re “training.”

If you find social media distracting, trying getting a web browser extension that prevents you from connecting to websites for a set period of time.

If you find you tend to dither before starting, I find it helpful to run through everything that I might do to procrastinate (check my social media! grab a snack! make some tea! set up my playlist! check my social media again! finish making the tea! check my social media for what I swear will be the last time!), and when I’m done, it’s like, well, I’ve done all those things, I’ve got no choice left, time to write, no excuses left.

If you find you struggle with picking up a WIP, try leaving off in the middle of a sentence at the end of a session, one where you know exactly how it ends - or, leave off mid-paragraph, or when you are positive you know what happens next (and I mean literally next, as in the very next sentence.) It’s much easier to “pick back up” when your first words are super clear. (Do not do this if you think there’s any chance you’ll forget or end up in a situation where you won’t return to your WIP for months!)

If you find you struggle to maintain continuity across multiple writing sessions, try rereading what you wrote the previous day before you proceed. Resist the urge to edit it!

Avoid stopping when you get stuck, even to do research. Don’t know a fact? Add a comment to your manuscript flagging the relevant text, “LOOK THIS UP LATER.” Can’t think of a word? Put in something you can use the “find” function on easily (I personally use “XX” since there are no words that have a double x in them) and so you can come back later, search for your chosen placeholder, and fill in the blanks. Not sure how a scene ends but know the next scene? Jump ahead.

That said, if you really don’t know what happens next, you don’t do yourself any favors by pressing on. As I’ve said previously, speed alone should never be your writing object. It’s better to slow down, consider your plot, figure out where you’re going, and then write, than to just plow ahead - or at least, that’s better if you want a manuscript you’ll actually be able to use for something at a later point. If you’re truly just practicing, you can also say “screw it, who needs coherence?” and keep going. I’d personally never have finished my first novel if I’d spent a lot of time worrying about making the pieces fit together and yeah, it’s a mess, but it’s a mess I wrote instead of a mess I got stuck on and never completed.

Don’t move the finish line. If you’ve set the goal of 500 words a day, don’t beat yourself up if you get 550 because you think you think you could have done more. If you say you’ll write five days a week, don’t get mad because you DID have time the sixth day but chose to use it on something else. If you make yourself feel like shit when you succeed, what’ll happen when you fail? And when you’re comfortable and really think you’re ready, change the goal - reassess every month, say, and up your goals. While working for speed, trying upping your word count goal without changing the amount of time you allot for working.

Your need to adhere to the above suggestions will change over time. Once, I always had an outline; now I often don’t need one. Once, I wouldn’t let myself stop even to use a thesaurus; now, I find I can look up words without breaking my flow or significantly slowing myself down. This is not an “all or nothing” prospect, nor is it a “do things the same way forever once you’ve found one (1) thing that works” prospect - you’ll experiment, and find strategies that work for you, and then at some point, your needs will change, and you’ll experiment more, and find new strategies that work for you, on and on, as your skills grow.

To reiterate: writing fast should never be your objective in and of itself! Greater writing speed will come with practice and as a general side effect of improving your craft. Simply being able to write fast is useless; being able to write fast and well will enable you to get more of your ideas out there, so if that’s something you’d like to accomplish, focus on building your general skills and training yourself to be able to use those skills rapidly and in tandem with each other to produce decent writing, in a first draft, at a decent speed.

Once you try, you may find none of this works for you! That’s okay. That’s good! You tried, which means you learned something about yourself and your own writing style, and that too will help you to improve. Keep experimenting, keep learning, and find what does work for you - and accept that no two writers will ever be the same, and one of those differences will be writing speed. Some writers will never write fast, and that’s doesn’t make them any less awesome or valid. And some writers will always write fast, and that doesn’t make them inherently awesome or valid. Only with a suite of skills that suit your individual life, personality, work style, writing capabilities, goals, etc., will you succeed as a writer (for various, personalized definitions of the word “success”); speed is only one of those potential skills, and not one that’s particularly important in my opinion...yet I still get asked about it fairly often, so here we are, these are my suggestions

Go forth, and write some words! <3

#duck prints press #writing advice #original content

271 notes · View notes

totallytododeku · 4 years

Text

☁ studying together ( x reader hc's) ☁

characters: midoriya, bakugou, todoroki, kirishima, yaoyorozu, uraraka, + ashido

genre: fluff <33

☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁

I. Midoriya 🌳🍀🌻

this poor boy is so excited to be spending time with you

but he will not take his nose out of his textbook

he can't help it

he's so happy to be in the hero course he takes his schoolwork a little too seriously

however, you can use this to your advantage ;)

normally you're almost as invested in his journey to becoming the next Symbol of Peace and achieving his dream as he is

and you would never dream of doing anything that could jeopardize it

So you were silently bouncing off the walls with glee when you realized he was impervious to distractions when it came to studying

literally anything is fair game

which is why studying with him is your new favorite time of day

pet his hair

kiss his cheeks

climb into his lap

pat his head

hold his non-dominant hand

hug him from behind his chair

rest your head on his shoulder and take a nap

do whatever you want

you can basically do anything to him while he's studying without having to worry about distracting him

he will blush a little bit of you kiss him but but you think it's adorable

lol turn on whatever tv or music you want

but only if you're done with your work!!

hes very adamant that you keep up with your work as best you can do you can graduate side by side and be pro heroes together someday

K. Bakugou 💣💥 📢

he would totally be the one to invite you to study and he would probably want to study in his dorm

it's super quiet and nobody will bother you guys because they know it's that spiky gremlin's room

overall his room just has a really relaxing atmosphere

you love being near him as much as possible

and he's much more affectionate in the comfort of his dorm room

but that doesn't mean he's gonna go easy on u ;-;

he still has his gruff attitude and will make sure you're studying every day

or else he will call u baka and force you to sit down and study until you know all your material

he's actually a great tutor tho

he writes out all the work for each problem and explains them thoroughly

all while holding in you in his arms while you sit in his lap

sometimes you can convince him to play a game with you where every time you get an answer right he gives you a kiss

but you whine when you get one wrong and he won't kiss you

he huffs before giving you a kiss while still trying to look annoyed

stupid girl he mutters

but he pulls you a bit closer to him to hide his blush and moves on to the next problem despite your giggles

S. Todoroki ❄🔥🍜

he doesn't really need to study but he doesn't know how to just .. relax

like he doesn't know how to not do what his dad tells him to do

and his dad wants him to study

it's just easier for Todoroki to do what his dad wants than to rebel

that is, it was

Until he met you and the dekusquad

obviously everyone cares about their homework and wants to graduate well and go Plus Ultra!

but study sessions with Todoroki usually end up just being you guys trying to help him be less hard on himself while you have him as a captive audience

he doesn't really mind, though, especially when it's just you two

the intimacy of studying together in comfortable silence and just

enjoying each other's company

makes his heart go (*￣∇￣*)

like i said he doesn't really need to study so he'll just end up helping you review material

please just ... hold his hand :)

after you're done studying for the day just pull him into a hug and over to your bed

he needs a nap

you feel warm fuzzies inside from how caring he's been to sit with you while you finished your homework and bring you warm tea

you don't even think you just

Time for cuddles :3

it becomes your daily ritual to study together and then cuddle

he always falls asleep in your arms with a small smile

E. Kirishima 🗿🗿🗿

(HAHAHSHNSJ THE 🗿 EMOJI OMG I'M LITERALLY SO FUNNY LOL I'M CRYING)

"Okay, Y/N, let's study hard and do our homework like men!" *fist-pumping the air and grinning like an idiot*

"...what's so funny? "

he doesn't care if you're not a man it's his trademark

he likes to study at his desk because he says it's "important to stay focused and work diligently"

generally he is the least focused person, ever. besides kaminari.

however, he's so energetic and enthusiastic that once you sit down and start studying he'll be able to keep your motivation up until you've finished all your homework

GREAT at studying for tests and quizzes (in theory)

he will never give up

like I said he could keep studying for hours once he sets his mind to it

So you have to compromise and get him to study in short bursts throughout the day to help him have a better chance of remembering anything ;-;

his memory is not great but it's kinda cute

you, being the smart cookie that u are, realized the best way to help him memorize things was to study with flashcards frequently throughout the weekend while doing other activities

so you plan to hang out together and do something fun every week while having your study material on index cards in your back pockets

it's a literal study date.

a weekly date out to the mall or the park or a little coffee shop but with math trivia thrown in randomly throughout the afternoon!! :D

Of course he was ready to turn it into a game he's a literal puppy

he just wants to show you you can be proud of him

you giggle lightly when you hear him say that and let him know that you'll always be proud of him, no matter what

M. Yaoyorozu 👑🏆☕

studyblr wants what u have.

studying in momo's room makes you feel like a Victorian young lady studying moral philosophy, writing poetry about the mourning doves outside the garden window, and waiting for her husband to come home from sailing the seven seas

it's your Belle moment where she's in the royal library except it's every day

stacks of beautiful, old books

the smell of the crisp, white pages

soft classical music floating through the air

the window cracked open slightly

and you are the luckiest student in all of UA because you get to study with the smartest girl in the whole school

she's also gorgeous and sweet and perfect which def doesn't hurt

u know that joke that ur teacher can spend a year explaining something and u never understand but then a random indian guy on YouTube explains it in 2 minutes and you finally get it

she is that random indian guy

you will never struggle with a single concept after you start studying with her

And she's so proud of you for every little question you answer correctly

(even thought she's the one that explained it all so well in the first place)

it's the definition of comfortable silence

she insists that neither of you study too hard and that you take lots of breaks to stretch

she says its to help you stay concentrated but really she just wants to feel your gentle hands on her shoulders as you massage out the knots

you take turns kneading the tension out of each other's shoulders

you feel a pleasant tingle down your spine at the feeling of her soft breath on the back of your neck

She pulls away and you share awkward smiles, neither of you realizing the other one of blushing, too

(((*≧艸≦)ﾌﾟﾌﾟｯ

O. Uraraka 🌜🚀🙏

ur actually super productive study buddies

Like u started studying together and then all of a sudden you were almost at the top of your class

she's just so sweet that being with her gives you the energy you need to write that essay all in one sitting instead of procrastinating like a normal person

Shows up at your dorm with snacks and drinks to keep your energy up!! :D

even though she's still going to end up getting sleepy anyway later in the afternoon

You get most of your studying done at the beginning of your study date so it's not really a problem

you know she doesn't have a lot of money to be throwing around so you pay for dinner every night

It's usually takeout but sometimes you guys make your own dinner for fun!

it always turns out almost inedible and burned because neither of you were paying attention to the stove

don't let baku see it or he'll start screaming about how you need to try your best at everything so he can beat you fair and square and that includes cooking too

neither you nor uraraka can handle spicey food so you never eat what Bakugou cooks for the class

You grab a few bags of chips and some sushi and shut yourselves in your dorm to pull an all-nighter study session about once a month

it should make you tired but, again, studying with her is so enjoyable that you don't mind

u two enjoy each others company in studying so much that you sometimes read ahead in your textbooks just to be able to study more

overall, hanging out with her is just lighthearted and filled with giggles

and you just so happen to get all your homework done along the way

M. Ashido 👾👽🚿

"studying" with her is so much fun

Hanging out with Mina in general is so much fun

it's impossible not to smile when she's around so even if you have a huge exam tomorrow, all your worries fade away just from being with her

She is pretty distracting in cases where you actually wanted to get stuff done

But you don't care

Change of plans

you're doing mani pedi's with Mina

No more studying

it's not as bad as it sounds though

You're not slacking off or anything and you can still keep your grades up with help from your other friends like Momo and Iida

you guys are just goofing off in the privacy of your dorm room when you should be studying

"It's not a crime to be young, Y/ N ;)"

she's just so energetic and happy like a little pink ball of sunshine

you can't help but laugh at her silliness and cute antics after a long day of classes

she makes your heart beat faster like you're on a roller coaster but without the nerves

somehow you feel giddy and comfortable in her presence at the same time

it doesn't matter what you two are doing, you always have fun

make sure she goes to bed on time, though, or she might end up baking a seven-tier cake at 3 am and Bakugou will scream at you for waking him up

don't feed her after midnight lmao

i started writing this after i almost died of boredom in my online calc class. my senioritis is already kicking in and it's still September (｡-ω-)

#boku no hero academia x reader #bnha x reader fluff #bnha headcannons #bakugou katsuki x reader fluff #midoriya izuku x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #shoto todoroki #Uraraka ochako #uraraka ochako x reader #Mina ashido x reader #yaoyorozu momo x reader #yaomomo #Kirishima eijirou x reader #eijirou kirishima #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader fluff headcannons #study date #hc

256 notes · View notes

thelastoftheredhotswamis2 · 3 years

Text

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 (or so) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works.

I’m just going to pretend @prometheuswelsh tagged me directly instead of leaving it open – they saw basically every single one of these fics before I posted them, and are basically my beta-reader by now! (Yeah yeah, I know, cut down on the run-on sentences with a million commas, I hear ya.) Check out their top 5 most beautiful gifs of 2020 here.

I’m undisciplined and have a top 6, not a top 5. I can be found on AO3 as selkieskin. Because this got long, all except the first one are under a Read More!

1. A Life Less Ordinary (Cherry Magic fic, M/M: Kurodachi). I wrote this after episode 6, knowing that episode 7 would probably make it non-canon, but hey – it’s about Kurosawa, and why he reacts the way he does to Adachi, and how his own internalised homophobia manifests. It’s pure quality angst, and I loved rewatching each episode to capture Kurosawa’s reactions to write this – it’s also about not feeling normal and not believing you can be happy, which is a very personal topic for me. This just flowed out of me basically fully-formed, and I think it really shows – there isn’t a thing about it I would change (non-canon-ness aside)…

2. The Everthere (OffGun fic, M/M: OffGun). This was a bit of a deep-dive into actual events and the way that Off has changed towards Gun, imagining how being in an ‘imaginary couple’ can change things. I just feel like each part of this flows together so well, with each flashback tied to what’s happening in the present and the ambiguous nature of their relationship building in intensity throughout… I’m so happy with how it turned out!

(Fun fact: regarding these first two, I wrote both the majority of The Everthere and the entirety of A Life Less Ordinary (part 1) in the same 2-day span. I had Chinese language exams to procrastinate on practicing for, so I just felt Inspired™. I literally wrote over 10,000 words in two days – I wish I could manage that all the time! I usually take months to finish stories… part 2 of A Life Less Ordinary is part-written, but it’ll take a while!)

3. Let Sleeping Cats Lie (NCT fic, Gen / M/M: JohnTen). I felt like I wanted to write a fic that focused on how it is to love a pet cat, and WayV have pets, so this was a no-brainer. Ten gets trapped in bed under a cat (Louis), and the cat demands that he look at only him. Near the end, his boyfriend Johnny drops by and gets into bed too to sleep, and it’s just a lovely cosy fic that I feel turned out really well – I was really proud of being able to capture that gentle, comforting atmosphere in the story.

4. Lovely (Heart Made Of Glass) (NCT fic, M/M: Yuwin). This one might not be everyone’s cup of tea and I do feel like it’s a bit awkward in parts, but it’s intensely personal for me, so this is #4. Winwin and Ten choreographed their romantic duet dance to Lovely by Billie Eilish, and one day late in the practice rooms, Yuta fills in to help Winwin practice. Yuta is gay, and Winwin is aroace – both get to let out their frustrations and their lack of understanding of the other, before they finally meet in the middle.

5. ZaintSee On Set series (Why R U RPF fic, M/M: ZaintSee). I didn’t really write smut before 2020, and part 2 of this was the first proper smut that I published! (I’m aroace, so have struggled in the past to get beyond ‘tab A goes into slot B’ style of description.) I loved Why R U, and the way that both main couples just seemed so into each other in an unguarded way was my favourite aspect of the series. In this, I imagined what it would be like for the actors to act this way in front of the cameras. In the first part, Zee asks for a kiss, and in the second part… well, it’s set during the episode 9 bed scene, so you can imagine where it goes. I had a big crisis of confidence when posting part 2 the first time – like I mentioned, I’m new to writing smut, and felt like it was probably ridiculous and overblown, and even deleted it once! I like it now, though.

6. A Walk By The River (NCT, Gen: Johnny & Mark). This was really interesting to write, because I only had a very vague plan when I started writing it, and wanted it to feel genuinely like one of those late-night conversations, not always linear or well-articulated. So I just wrote, and wrote, and this is long but I think it feels like a journey with a lot of surprises and I was really proud of how I captured their conversational style and how a character who is so uncomfortable about talking seriously about his feelings finally manages to open up to his friend.

Honourable mentions to:

Textbook (My Engineer fic, M/M: MekBoss). My second published smut! Let’s face it, My Engineer was a hot mess and nobody liked the main couple, but the side couples? Hell yeah. And my favourites were MekBoss. This slight AU was really fun to write, with Boss being very chatty in bed in a totally ridiculous way!

Fighting (Haeyadwae) (NCT fic, Gen: Lucas & Jungwoo). I wrote this as kind of a comfort to myself and a friend for those days when everything feels overwhelming and like it’s too much. Jungwoo’s at that stage, and his friend Lucas tells him to just lie on the floor with him and escape from his anxiety for a bit. It’s short, but sweet.

I know it’s a couple of days after New Year now, but I’d like to tag @stickers-on-a-laptop to do this, if you haven’t already – I already know my own favourite 2020 work of yours (CherrYYY Magic, which is a fantastic crossover and has our aroace queen Fujisaki as the main character!) but I’d like to know what you think!

#2020 wrapped #fic recs #cherry magic #nct #why r u #my engineer #offgun #johnten #kurodachi #mekboss #zaintsee #yuwin #me #prometheuswelsh #stickers-on-a-laptop

19 notes · View notes

treeni · 4 years

Text

Say My Name

Day 1 of Soulmate September

DRLAMP

Summary: When people turn 16, the name of their soulmate appears on their palms in black. When a person meets their soulmate and introduces themselves, the mark changes to a color reflecting that person. However, when Janus turned 16 all that appeared was a big black smudge.

Words: 5229

TW: swearing, mentions of traumatic childhood event, fire

Archive Link

Tumblr Masterpost

Taglist: @tsshipmonth2020

It was rude to ask, but that hardly ever stopped people from inquiring why Janus didn’t know the name of his soulmate. Everyone knew the name of their soulmates. When you reached the age of 16, it would literally appear across your palm. Janus remembered that year, all of his class mates, one by one coming in with names written across their palms, some in fancy script, some in large bubbly fonts, some in absolute chicken scratch. He remembered one person’s walked in with gloves on because it turned out the name was written in comic sans of all things. Yet, when he walked in with countless people waiting in anticipation for his big birthday reveal, all Janus had to show them was a large, seemingly meaningless black blob on his hand.

It seemed like no one around him had ever seen anything like it before. The doctors had said it might somehow be linked to his scars, the fire that he barely survived as a kid if not for his father’s near-suicidal rescue mission. They both made it out alive, but Janus was barely holding on. Weeks of hospitalization, monitoring, skin-grafts, and a lot of grief, left a child with scar tissue on the whole left side of his body. He wasn’t teased as much as you’d expect. When he finally returned to school a big, school-wide assembly was held about happened that left him being treated like some hero for some reason. Janus didn’t like the attention at the time, but it had its advantages in the long run. When he didn’t want to participate in gym, he could blame sensitivity and the other students were quick to defend him on it even against the teachers. When his work was late because he took a self-care day, he was never docked the extra time.

However, there were disadvantages too. The sensitivity was something he did deal with, especially against the cold or direct sunlight, the scar tissue didn’t handle the exposure well. It seemed that never knowing the identity of his soulmates, if he even had one, was one of them. Just another way he was different than everyone else.

Then again, the black spot might have been the universe sending another a big karmic “fuck you” his way for all of the times he used his scars to play innocent and garner sympathy. After all, it couldn’t have been Janus who pushed the bully jock down the stairs, not Janus. He was practically crippled after all!

That was how people treated him at least, even his parents. Especially his parents. It was a frustratingly fruitless endeavor to try and prove he wasn’t absolutely useless. So he let people think what they were going to think. If everyone wanted to believe he was a fragile snowflake that would fall apart at the slightest touch? Well, it just made easier to get away with things because general perception became his permanent alibi.

Still, when college rolled around, he took the first ticket out to the farthest, decent university that would take him and a distance he went. Between his high grades and essays he didn’t receive one rejection letter. Universities really ate up sob stories of grievances that had to be overcome and he certainly had a grievance. Still, he liked to think at least part of it was his own merit, even if it felt like a lie.

Though there were a lot of things he had already given up on in life by age 18, when he had first attended the university he had let himself be a little bit excited about it. It was a new place with new people, people who didn’t see the kid who almost burned in a house fire, the kid who would never find a soulmate. He had a chance to start over and be more than his circumstances.

Except, he quickly realized it was more of the same. He tried layering fabrics, covering up as much of his scars as possible so people wouldn’t notice as much. He already kept them mostly covered anyway to protect against sensitivity, so it wasn’t a huge change. He started wearing gloves, one to hide the scars and the other to hide the mockery of a soul mark. It seemed no matter what he tried though, it made no difference. He couldn’t hide the scars on his face.

So there he was, nearly finished his freshman year of college, sitting in the library by himself because he refused to repeat his past experiences. If people didn’t want to treat him like an actual person, then he resolved that he didn’t need them. He had settled on the path of becoming a lawyer and honestly it wasn’t like he needed anyone slowing him down anyway. Truly. Friends would just hold him back by taking up valuable studying time anyway.

Janus took a sip of bitter coffee to refocus himself as he stared blankly at the computer screen in front of him. He knew that his course load would most definitely keep him too busy for friends in the future, but the now was a bit of a struggle. He had actually... run out of assignments to complete and was nearly a month ahead. The professors had laid everything out in the syllabus so it was easy to just work his way through. Sure, when the library started to crowd with procrastinating students scrambling to make the grade, he’d be able to just relax because he’d all but finished his work for the semester. Still, it felt a little hollow. Nearly a month of... basically nothing to do, no one to see, just mindlessly attending classes to be assigned work he’d already completed.

It wasn’t the first time it happened either, Janus had been miserable toward the end of the previous semester as well after finishing early then too. The last few weeks were basically miserable stagnation that continued through the holidays because he refused to go home over the break. He only started to feel like himself again when the new term started and he had a whole new set of work to complete.

With a huff, he angrily clicked the e-learning program closed and was left unsatisfied by finality of it. He needed something, like an old school corded phone or maybe he’d just go key some poor sods car. The university’s president had a dedicated spot and he’d heard she was a real piece of work. He’d never met her himself, but he’d heard some stories that she was a real Jekyll and Hyde, except the Hyde was her default. Somehow her transition only seemed to magically take place when a camera was pointed in her direction. Speaking of cameras, if he redirected the security camera he could probably get away with it too. At least it’d be something to do. Plotting through how best to get away with it, he took a long sip of coffee. It was hot and burned his tongue, but taste-wise it as bitter as his current mood and felt appropriate somehow.

While contemplating if he should raid the library’s staff lounge for sugar (it’s not like they’d do anything about it anyway) a loud noise sounded from his left, immediately grabbing his attention. He realized the almost ‘harump’ like sound was a book hitting the floor. He didn’t think too much of it as he involuntarily looked in the direction of the sound’s source. Occasionally falling books were an inevitability in a place that housed so many. The person closest to the fallen book though caught his attention for more than just a passing glance.

He was tall, lean and muscular and Janus found himself immediately trying to swallow down the gay. It didn’t help that the guy wore low hanging cargo pants with ripped muscle shirt that showed off his midriff. His face was tucked in another book, but Janus could see an odd tuft of silver hair sticking out against a full head of soft dark curls. As he inspected further, he noticed the guy was covered in red splatters of some sort that he sincerely hoped was the ink of a red pen. He had a large smudge of whatever it was up his left bicep. He continued to flip through pages, seemingly at random before haplessly tossing the book onto the floor next to the first and pulling another off the shelf and doing the same.

Oh.

This guy was a bastard.

Well, at least that meant Janus’ guilt over staring immediately evaporated.

In fact, Janus just let himself lean back in his chair, coffee in hand and legs crossed as he openly watched the antics taking place in front of him. Other library patrons started to look toward the bastard as well as the sound of random books hitting the floor continued. Though, while Janus stared in amusement, the others mainly threw looks of annoyance. Not everyone had the leniency of being weeks ahead in their coursework he supposed. As the pile seemed to grow almost endlessly the sound seemed to pause as the bastard took longer with the current book in his hands, sifting through it slower than the others until he shut it with a reverberating ‘bang’ no quieter than any of the books falling to the ground and stuffed it into a backpack that was leaned against the shelves. Now without a blockade in front of the bastards face, Janus could see that he was unfortunately handsome. Even from his position a few feet away Janus could see the high cheekbones of an almost sculpted face. It was only ruined slightly by a nearly cartoonish mustache sitting atop a perfect cupids bow. It was almost as if a generic Greek artist carved the guy from straight marble and some teenager vandalized the statue with ratty clothes, an exploding pen, and god-awful facial hair. The lips he was focusing on stretched in a wide grin as Janus looked up to see the bastard wiggling his eyebrows at him. He scoffed in reply and pretended to gag, like he was uninterested.

You know, like a liar.

The bastard still had the audacity to stare his way with a big, wolfish grin and winked as he walked away... and straight into the banister separating the open concept from the lower floor. Tall, dark, and handsome fell across it, bending at the hips like a rag doll. He let out a yelp as the wind was knocked out of him from the railing pushing hard into his stomach and then he started to slide. Janus was running to his aid before he had even realized he had gotten up, his coffee a forgotten puddle on the floor as his cup was still rolling from the impact. The guy had managed to grab hold of the banister with one hand on his way down, but he was left dangling and it wasn’t clear how long he could hold himself there. Janus reached down and secured his grip by wrapping his forearms around the one gripping the banister. There was no way Janus would be able to pull him up on his own, but he could probably hold the position.

“Can you swing?” Janus asked, putting all of his focus and energy in his grip. Don’t let go, don’t let go, don’t let him slip, don’t let go.

Without answering, the guy did a small test swing that had Janus clenching his teeth and tightening his grip to make sure as hell this guy didn’t fall.

“Oh three then, one, two-” Janus counted and reached further down to lock their elbows straight to make sure this worked. “Three!”

With a strong swing of the hips the dangling stranger arched upward, with Janus using leverage principles from his position above to add the extra oomph needed for the guy to lock his foot underneath the rail and grab hold of the bars with his other hand. Janus let himself be used as a handhold as the stranger crawled over the banister and back onto solid ground. He was reminded of just how unfortunately attractive the guy was a strong hands gripped his shoulders and bright emerald eyes stared down at his own mismatched pair.

“My hero!” The guy yelled and then suddenly foreign lips were pressed against Janus’ own.

The kiss was over as soon as it began, but that didn’t stop Janus from noticing the tongue that had traced over his lips before he pulled away.

“Oh! Sorry! Pattoncake’s always reminding me to work on my boundaries. I’m supposta try askin’ before I start mackin’ ya know?”

Janus knew... some of those words. To be fair, he wasn’t even sure he was processing the ones he did know, still a little dazed between the guy in front of him nearly falling off the indoor balcony and then the sudden kiss. His first kiss.

“I’ve always wanted to do that though and it was just nice to be saved for once by someone who wasn’t Roman. No one wants to kiss that ugly mug anyway,” the stranger said before holding out a hand to him. “I’m Remus by the way!”

Janus was about to take his hand and shake it, the way normal people do. He really was. It’s just suddenly he felt something tingling against the skin of his right hand. It felt... intense, but didn’t hurt, like friction without the burn. Automatically glancing at his hand, he could see something glowing through the fabric of his glove. He immediately ripped it off without a second thought and stared down at the bright light carving out a name on his hand in big, electric green letters.

Remus.

Remus apparently found it appropriate to disregard the boundaries advice and stepped into Janus’ personal space, taking the green glowing hand in both of his own, staring down hard at the name that had appeared for a moment. Without warning Remus dropped the hand to move both of his own to Janus’ shoulders, squeezing.

“What’s your name?!” Remus demanded, his hands trembling as if he was holding back a deep will to shake the boy in his grip.

Janus didn’t answer immediately, he just stared back at the emerald eyes in shock while it felt like his stomach was trying to crawl out of his own throat. Taking a couple hurried breaths through his nose as he tried to push back the sheer panic that had overtaken him in this big what the fuck of a situation, he managed to whisper out in more breath than noise, “Janus.”

They both watched in equal astoundment as Remus’ own hand began to glow as a name that was previously scrawled out in inky black redesigned itself into a bright golden yellow. Janus could see that unlike his own hand that now had green letters against a large blob of black, Remus’ was a rainbow of letters in different colors overlapping each other.

Suddenly Remus’ strong hands had scooped him up into a twirl as he yelled, “It’s you!”

Some poor bastard with a cart at the edge of Janus’ vision had the audacity shush them and Janus flipped them the bird. If it were any other situation, he would have taken note of exactly who they were and plotted how best to ruin their lives in the most intricate way possible, but he was a little preoccupied at the moment. The fact that they were in the midst of picking up the pile of books Remus left behind didn’t buy them any mercy points either.

“Oh they’re going to love you!”

With that, they were off with Remus’ backpack bouncing with each long stride. Janus wrapped his arms tightly around Remus’ neck, holding on for dear life as the man ran like a bullet out of the library, artfully sidestepping anyone in his way. He was clearly practiced at being a general menace. Why not add kidnapping to the list? Not that Janus really minded the feeling of Remus’ chest pressed against his own.

His soulmate’s chest, Janus had to remind himself as he looked back down at the green letters branded against his hand. He felt tears well up in the corners of his eyes.

He had a soulmate.

Janus choked back a sudden sob, and gave into the absurdity of the situation by letting his head rest against Remus shoulder as he was carted off to who-the-fuck-knows-where. He was half certain this was some surreal dream.

He was half terrified that he would wake up.

Before Janus had really caught up with what was happening or even where he was, he found himself being deposited in a lap of someone who looked just as confused as he felt. At least it was comfortable as arms covered in the fabric of a plush hoodie caught him as Remus dropped him while announcing “Lo, I got your book!”

“What the fuck Rem?” voiced the person he was now being held by.

Janus looked up to survey the area. He began internally panicking to find five very attractive boys suddenly looking in his direction. This had to be a dream. He’d wake up and there would be no harem and definitely no soulmate mark beyond the black blob he’s known since he got the damn thing. The check he was pressed against let out a huff and Janus had to lean backwards a bit to see a scowl aimed in Remus’ direction. Scowl or no, he was beautiful. Dark eye shadow and long bangs that couldn’t quite obscure the stunning amethyst eyes.

“I see you checked out more than just a textbook from the library Remus,” said the one apparently called Lo. Even from his strange position Janus could tell that Lo was sat with straight posture, but somehow seemed relaxed. He had sharp, angular features, a pointy nose, and a strong jawline. Thick, black framed glasses did nothing to obscure the picturesque looks of a truly symmetrical face. Lo looked unphased by Janus’ sudden presance, especially compared to the others as he accepted the textbook Remus offered him without so much as a frown.

“Cute right?” He asked, tossing his arms around another boy in the group who was staring at Remus with a frown. He was in a cyan polo with extra floofy hair and a splattering of freckles across his nose and cheekbones. “He saved me from falling off the banister Patty!”

“Again Remus?” Groaned the last boy of the group and glancing in his direction left Janus wondering if he’d even be able to speak if he wanted to. He looked like Remus. He was a little less lanky, a little more top heavy with more defined arms and shoulders especially. There was no cartoonish mustache on this one.

Janus’ mouth had gone dry. There was too much attractive surrounding him.

He couldn’t swallow down the gay anymore.

The unnamed one who looked like Remus and apparently had the same lack of personal space suddenly took his hand and pulled him into a standing position before dropping to his knee and bowing deeply like a god damn fairy tale prince, without letting go of Janus’ gloveless hand.

“You have my deepest gratitude for saving my brother. I, Roman Royal, am in your debt.”

Janus was going to tell him to get the fuck off the groud and stop being so god damn cliche and charming and adorable because guys like that didn’t exist in the real world, but then both he and prince charming were left awestruck as they watched Janus’ hand start to glow again. Because of course it did.

“Whoops! Did I forget to mention my last soulmate mark changed?” Remus asked before cackling as he sprawled his legs across the lap that Janus had vacated.

“Wait, he’s-!” The hooded one exclaimed underneath Remus’ legs.

“Yep!” Remus said cheerfully, popping the ‘p’ sound.

Janus didn’t even realize he was crying until the goddamn prince charming, his soulmate Roman reached out and gently wiped the tears away with a softness that matched every fucking YA novel love interest ever.

His chin was titled up to stare into ruby eyes, only to find that Roman was crying too and how dare he still be so beautiful crying?! Who sanctioned this?

“-please, my dear, please, please, please tell me your name,” Roman whispered, cradling his cheeks on both sides as he wiped away Janus’ tears with his thumbs. Janus wasn’t sure how Roman could stand touching the scars on his face, but Roman didn’t seem phased at all. He didn’t hesitate in the slightest or treat the scarred skin any differently than the unmarred side.

“I’m... I’m Janus.”

Janus wasn’t sure where to look as four lights suddenly appeared, surrounding him from all directions. As the lights faded he found himself swept up for a second time, but now in Roman’s arms as he too twirled Janus in the opposite direction of his brother.

“It’s finally you!” He cried and kissed Janus on the top of the head before setting him down.

Janus swayed on his feet, dizzy from spinning and just very overwhelmed. This was a lot. This day was a lot.

“I’m so sorry!” Roman exclaimed, taking Janus’ hand in between both of his own and looking down at Janus with eyes full of remorse. “I should have asked before kissing you! Or even grabbing you at all, I was just so happy-”

“I-it’s okay... I’m just... this is just a lot,” Janus admitted, trying to push down his strong sense of panic. He had never had this much one on one social interaction... ever. Much less with his soulmates!

“Hey,” said the smooth voice of the one in the hood as he reached across Remus’ legs to grab ahold of Janus’ sleeve. “Breathe okay? In for four.”

Janus turned his attention to the soothing quiet voice, focusing on it and only it as it slowly grounded him. Lo pulled Remus’ legs away, as the hooded boy scooted forward in his seat, taking each of Janus’ hands in his own and rubbing soothing circles into both the bare skin of his right hand and the fabric of his still-gloved left hand.

“Hold it for seven,” he said, keeping strong and intent eye-contact. Janus wasn’t sure he could look away if he wanted to. He felt entranced. “Breathe out for eight. You’re doing great.”

“If it helps you feel any better Ro, I already macked on him without asking first too so-” Remus said with a big grin, like the cat that got the cream.

“That’s not something you should be proud of Rem!” Roman said and swatted his brother on the shoulder.

“Remus, what have we said about personal space?” The floofy that was called Patty said.

“Uggggh,” Remus groaned dramatically and let himself fall backwards. as if the two laps he occupied were a fainting couch. “Roman did it tooooo!”

“I didn’t try to make out with him without permission! Plus, I apologized!”

“So did I!”

Their conversation continued on from there. It was always so strange to be talked about, as if you weren’t there. Still, a deep gentle voice was guiding him away from their squabble, refocusing him on the moment, on hands within his own and the sound of exaggerated breathing that was demonstrated for him to match.

It took a few minutes, but he started to feel as if he was regaining his bearings. Janus looked down at their joined hands and saw colors peaking out at the edges of the palm holding his. More importantly, he saw yellow, the same yellow he saw appear on Remus’ hand with his own eyes.

He had to know.

He wanted to know.

“What’s your name?” Janus asked, tugging gently at the hand that had his name inscribed against it.

“We don’t have to do this now, we can do it later. It’s okay to wait, I promise.”

Janus was almost convinced, almost let it go, but he couldn’t. He had gone years believing he’d spend his life alone and now his own name apparently was written across the palms of five people.

Five soulmates.

He wanted to know.

“Please- I just... never expected this. I thought... I thought-”

“That you’d be alone,” the purple eyed stranger muttered sympathetically and in that moment he knew. They must have been like him, waking up one birthday expecting a name only to find an illegible smudge of ink instead. “I’m Virgil.”

His palm shined as bright purple letters defined themselves against against the black and it was finally enough to be able to decipher the remaining two names still in black.

He could read Patton and Logan.

“It’s so nice to meet you Virgil,” Janus said, squeezing the hand still holding his. “Before today I didn’t believe you were real.”

He heard various laughs around him as Virgil snorted. He even heard a “mood!” somewhere behind him.

Janus glanced back down at his own palm again. He was determined to never see black on it ever again. He squeezed Virgil’s hand once before relinquishing it and squared his shoulders, walking over to the last two he had yet to officially met. Roman scooped his brother out of their collective grasps and deposited him against the currently unoccupied metal bench to the side of the C shape the three formed.

“Hey!” Remus yelled as he was dropped.

“Stay still for once you absolute delinquent,” Roman said, and sat on his brothers back pretzel-style, effectively pinning him in place.

One sat stark still, his hands folded in his lap, but bowed his head slightly with the barest smile touching the corners of his mouth as Janus approached. The other was shaking his leg, drumming his fingers and chewing on his lip with big nervous eyes and he looked toward Janus, like he couldn’t’ sit still if he wanted to. Janus fell to his knees, cautiously putting one hand on each of their legs and looking up at two curious gazes.

“Before today I thought I would spend the rest of my life alone, that there was no one out there for me. I didn’t have a name and now-” Janus said, cutting himself off as his voice cracked.

“And now you have five,” said the one in the dark blue tie.

Janus could only nod in return, trying to will away the need to cry again. He was never this emotional, today was just... an extra bitch on the feelings meter.

“I need to know.”

The one who had been shaking’s hands flow up and covered his mouth as he cooed out an appreciative noise. Janus waited, trying to give him time to gather his bearings.

“Can I hug you?” he squeaked out and Janus couldn’t hold back the smile as he nodded.

Immediately, hands were thrown around his neck as the life was squeezed out of him. After a few seconds though, it relaxed and he was led into a rocking motion that was reminiscent of a boat, swaying listlessly against a gentle river. After hesitating, Janus’ own arms found their way to a waist and then around a back as he pulled the humming boy closer to himself.

They stayed like that for several minutes and Janus wasn’t sure if it was for the his own sake or for the sake of the boy in his arms. Maybe both.

“I’m Patton,” he finally whispered and Janus didn’t even bother to look down at the glow. He preferred to stay with his eyes closed, his ear leaning close enough to the pulse point of Patton’s neck to hear the beat of his heart. Still, as nimble fingers eventually tapped his shoulder, he looked up to find he still had one more person left to meet.

Before pulling away, Janus made sure to take a good look at the cyan that had found itself on his hand. Patton squeezed him tightly one last time before finally letting go of his grasp. Maybe it was revenge for the impromptu kisses he’s already received or maybe like the others he’d simply been lost in the moment but before pulling away completely, Janus leaned down and ghosted a kiss against Patton’s neck, causing the cute sky-eyed boy beneath him to shiver. It only made him more endearing.

Then he turned for he had one last person to meet. Standing up Janus found he was tall and sturdy looking. He wasn’t as broad shouldered as Roman, but he still looked strong and proportionally so. It was like every part of him was carefully curated.

This time, Janus knew his name.

Logan.

The only name left on his palm in perfect typed Arial.

“It is ironic that after struggling to read the names at all, the last of my soulmate’s names becomes more difficult to read upon its reveal,” Logan said, holding up his palm, yet it still took him a moment to understand.

Oh!

Oh.

His name would have been in black before and the yellow would most definitely be more difficult to read.

“Do not misunderstand. I am not displeased in the slightest, I just find it a bit humors. The black was always a glaring and ugly reminder of what I did not have.”

“Tell me about it,” Janus muttered in return.

Logan’s smile grew slightly as he reached down to take Janus’ hand within his own and gently held it up as he traced over the letters he recognized as his own still in black.

“Would you tell me your name?” Logan asked in a murmur before leaning down and leaving a kiss on Janus’ palm unapologetically.

Janus’s cheeks flushed at the care, but blinked as his mind went blank in confusion.

“But... you already...”

“You gave your name to Roman,” Logan whispered and tilted his head gently. “I want you to give it to me intentionally.”

Janus gulped, staring up at the sapphire eyes that were so intently focused on his own. “Janus. My name is Janus.”

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you Janus,” Logan said and bowed just slightly at the shoulders. “My name is Logan.”

The light shined between them as Logan still held Janus’ palm up and Janus watched the various streaks of blue in Logan’s eyes dance like light reflected through crystalline. With the deep blue lettering now situated on his hand, every trace of that ulgy black smudge was finally gone from his hands.

He had soulmates.

He wouldn’t be alone.

“Damn, Lolo’s got more game then you Ro,” Remus snarked despite being squished underneath Roman.

“Shut up Rem!” Roman declared with an indignant huff.

“No, he’s got a point Ro,” Virgil said, chin in palm and a blush across his cheeks as he watched Logan seduce the newest member of their unit.

“Awww, I think you’re Romantic Ro!” Patton declared reaching for Roman’s hand from his current place next to Virgil.

“Patton and Janus are currently my favorites and to hell with the rest of you,” Roman declared, as Remus cackled underneath him. Virgil stuck out his tongue and Logan just shot Roman a smug smirk.

Yeah.

Janus thought he was going to like it here but....

He would have the rest of his life to make absolutely sure.

#sanders sides #roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #fanfiction #drlamp #tsshipmonth2020

44 notes · View notes

no-droids · 4 years

Note

You probably heard this a lot but your writing is so amazing it's literally god tier omg 💖 If you don't mind answering, do you have any writing tips? I really wanna improve my writing and try to be as good as you. (keyword: try)

oh god uh

so here’s a little list of stuff I PERSONALLY do, but please remember everybody writes differently and that’s a GOOD THING so this might not work for everybody

1. Skip around

Sometimes you just get a SCENE, like one specific scene in your head that you want to write. Write it out, and if it doesn’t end up working in the fic, copy and paste it into a different document and keep it, because it’s very possible (and LIKELY) that you’ll use it later in the story. It’s a way of pre-planning if you’re not one of those authors that likes to plan a strict outline at the very beginning, at least you’ll have a general roadmap based off scenes you’re imagining and have already partially written. I have a close friend who works for a publishing company and she always told me to start as close to the end as possible when you’re writing. It’ll not only encourage you to have a fluid, overarching plot line already thought out, but if you put all your effort and energy into writing an impeccable beginning, your story will gradually lose that spark as you go on.

2. Take a solid break between writing and editing

If you can swing it, try not to look at your story for a few days after you’ve finished writing the first draft. If you wait, the words will hit differently and it’ll allow you to edit as if you have a fresh set of eyes. Sometimes that isn’t possible, especially if you’re like me and procrastinate hardcore, but that also leads into my next tip

3. Write when you’re tired, edit when you’re awake

You’d be surprised at how fluidly the words will come when you’re not awake enough to focus on them. Seriously. Writer’s block can hit, and that SUCKS, but I’ve noticed a lot of that can just be due to you being overcritical of your work WHILE you’re writing it. You can totally be a writer AND an editor, but you can’t do both at the same time. It’ll hinder your creativity and stunt your progress, and it’s a hard mindset to escape. That’s why I usually write really late at night, sleep, and then edit the next day.

4. Actually write

This is an important one, kinda self-explanatory. It’s also usually the one people struggle with the most. Writing is hard. It’s HARD. It takes brainpower and determination to do, it doesn’t just come naturally. STORYTELLING is a natural human instinct, coming up with ideas and sharing them with friends, but actually taking the time to write it DOWN and make it COHERENT and COMPLETE is something altogether different. It’s exhausting and sometimes you just don’t want to do it. Do it anyways. Think about the end goal, not the effort it’ll take to get there. Keep writing, keep adding a sentence or paragraph or page every single day, and the more progress you make, the easier it’ll become. Lastly,

5. Set deadlines

This one is a little bit of a catch 22 and I don’t recommend it for everyone. This is only if you struggle with perfectionism and feel like you’ve spent literal MONTHS to YEARS on a single piece of work because it’s just not there yet. If you’ve had a document that you’ve been working on for a long ass time and you haven’t published it, set a deadline for posting. ANNOUNCE the deadline, even if you don’t have many followers who are paying attention. It might be a little anxiety inducing to set a date for yourself without having it finished, but it will force you to drop that perfectionist streak that’s stunting your work and buckle down instead. Again, THIS IS NOT FOR EVERYONE. I just personally was one of those fanfic authors that had 22 unfinished google docs and zero of them published after years of writing. I started setting deadlines for myself, and now I actually get to share my stuff with yall instead of hiding it away and being too critical about it. Deadlines. Deadlines suck, but they encourage productivity in some individuals, and I happen to be one of them.

Try some of these things out, see if they help any!! 🧡🧡

#anon #ask

168 notes · View notes

vapcrwaves · 3 years

Photo

━♡ guess the 24 YEAR OLD JULY baby just arrived to dallyeog! it makes sense, because AOKI IMOJEN is just as BLAZING as the month of JULY. wait, why do they remind me of HIRAI MOMO? beyond that, they seemed SELF-RELIANT & BUOYANT upon first glance. i heard someone say they’re sort of INSURGENT & RECKLESS though. i hope they get acquainted here in COMPLEX # 3 / APARTMENT # 2 / FLOOR # 2 ; they seem to have a lot going on with HER job as TATTOO ARTIST / BASSIST.

bonjour , y’all !! my name’s jade ( she/her , twenty-one , gmt+8 ) !! and i’m super excited to meet and write with everyone !! this is my spunky kid , imojen , and i hope you’ll come to enjoy her as much as i did writing everything about her :D if you wanna plot , do not fret because i’ll be dropping in everyone’s IMs hehe , but if you prefer to plot over at discord , don’t hesitate to tell me !! <3

* 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊 ╱ ʙᴀꜱɪᴄꜱ .

name : aoki imojen nicknames : yoki , jen . age : twenty - four . birthday : july 27 , 1996 . zodiac : leo sun , aquarius moon , sagittarius rising . place of birth : tokyo , japan . currently living : seoul , south korea . occupation : tattoo artist , bassist . pronouns : she / her . orientation : bisexual biromantic . ethnicity : japanese . spoken languages : japanese , korean , english . character insp. : kat stratford from 10 things i hate about you , bridget vreeland from sisterhood of traveling pants , effy stonem from skins uk , young carol rhodes from gossip girl tv series , rhonda smith , mia’s backstory from if i stay . label / tropes : hoyden , icarian , insurgent , reveller , the rebellious spirit . pinterest : here . aesthetics : scared of commitment , but has 7 tattoos. a habit of endlessly lighting a lighter. platform boots to boost your height. but then again, sneakers for comfort while running from the cops. forgetting to discard empty cigarette packets from your bomber jacket. spilling your fifth espresso onto your drawings and designs , maybe it’s time to sleep. a frightening look on your face which millennials like to call a resting bitch face. the heat ruining your collection of leather jackets. finding comfort in your friends who seem to understand your mood swings. having a pet cat who’s as feisty as you. spontaneous adventures live inside your head and your friends fall victim to those ideas. liking the rays of the sun more than the moon despite being a night owl. oversleeps anyway. trimming your bangs yourself because you couldn’t be bothered to go to the salon. overcooking your sunny side up eggs. sleeping to forget problems. drinking to forget problems. epitome of a ride or die.

* 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 ╱ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ .

aoki imojen was born to understand what it was to live a life with no structure. her father was part of a rising band in the 90s, toured all over small venues in japan that they slowly rose to a known local name, and imojen has seen all the chaos unfold from backstage in the arms of her mom. however, slowly transitioning into the year of 2000s, the economy was still struggling from the lost decade and the income from touring never sufficed for a growing family. imojen’s father was forced to leave the music scene with the help of her mother’s influence: “it’s time to be serious”; and work multiple jobs in order to fully provide for his first child and the another growing one inside his wife’s womb.

growing up, imojen’s no stranger to music and her father loved to introduce rock music and bands to imojen’s upbringing. she adored b’z and the gazette, and it leaves no doubt that imojen’s father had been her greatest influence in life. as she grew older, not only did they share identical music preferences and influences, but imojen’s learned to play various instruments— the bass being her favorite. imojen’s also stemmed from that infamous reckless behavior his father’s known for back in the day, and when the teenage years came, so did the impetuous reputation begin.

imojen and her mother aren’t exactly as close as she was with her father. in fact, their relationship was a toe out of the civil line. it got worse when imojen started to focus on the band she created with friends instead of school and late night practices turned to never returning home for a few days and having the audacity to blatantly lie when asked where she was when asked. it’s hard not to blame her mother when she assumed things for the worst. imojen’s gone quite defiant especially when she discovered that her and her father’s relationship had began to run askew. imojen blames her mother’s interference with her father’s music career as much as her father did, she loved him so much that she was completely blindsided to always take his side. and when the divorce papers came and went, imojen chose her father as she always would.

her father got a job as a musician locally and eventually overseas, however, money didn’t come by so fast and easy initially. instead of going to university, imojen invested in learning the arts in tattoo design and worked as a tattoo artist to help with the bills. the pair finally thought to settle in korea when imojen’s father got a permanent job. and at this time, imojen has decided to try pursue a career as a musician as well, hoping that the thrill in her early band days are still well stored in her system.

* 𝖘𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 ╱ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛ .

imojen can never be satisfied of living in the same area for so long, or at least under the roof with the watchful eye of her father. work’s payed well and imojen decided to move out and get an apartment of her own. hence, she found dallyeog, parties almost every single day, drags everyone into spontaneous adventures, comes home terribly drunk and wakes up with a huge hangover—well, still pretty normal. aside from the norm, imojen working at the tattoo parlor and taking gigs at bars as a bassist, imojen’s investing in writing music as well. she hopes one day to finally finish at least one song she’s been procrastinating for far too long and convince her father to make them a rock duo instead, but a band of her own would fantastic too.

* 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 ╱ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ .

imojen looks quite mean at first glance, and it doesn’t help that she’s indifferent towards anyone who isn’t part of already her friend. she doesn’t hate, hate is such a strong word, she simply doesn’t have the attention span for people that don’t interest her or she doesn’t know fully well to enjoy a conversation with.

honestly has the gina linetti energy “how was i supposed to know there’d be consequences for my actions” as she literally does anything she wants before her brain can even weigh the pros and cons to it.

imojen enjoys taking risks despite the relaxed attitude and seemingly nonchalant view in life. it might be a surprise to learn that she’s quite ambitious, but underneath, she does aim for the highs (both meanings) in life, except there isn’t exactly a time frame for those and would much rather pursue them steadily.

everyone can depend on imojen to have a good time, or if someone needed a friend to vent to, she can surprisingly be all ears, but never follow her words of advice. she does mean well, it’s just that she doesn’t know what she’s saying half the time and is quite reckless,, like ask her to pick between two choices and she’ll advice you to take the riskier one bc “it’s fun don’t be a prude”.

she is more sympathetic than she let on. imojen’s not very vocal especially with her emotions and on what she exactly feels about other people’s situation. serious conversations? catch her yeet away from those. they render her uncomfortable, most especially if it is about her. however, seeing her friends gloomy doesn’t sit right with her that she does anything to make them crack a smile.

believes that people should be left to roam free and that authority is useless and ruins the fun— hence why she’d always be caught defying them. yes, she uses her brain, but acts more towards intuition and what she felt like doing that day. so yes, she might loves setting her life on the line.

* 𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖙𝖍 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 ╱ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ .

plastic hearts ╱ someone whom imojen shares a passion for music with. the both of you are like peas in a pod as you both are in the same wavelengths as each other. they may not have the same types of music, but open enough to share a plethora of music playlists.

angels like you ╱ the typical bad-good influence trope wherein imojen’s reckless behavior and liberated thoughts on legalities have gotten your muse in various dangerous but fun adventures. on a flip, your muse may be the reason why imojen’s woken up at 8 in the morning, bright, well, and not hungover.

prisoner ╱ an angsty and toxic relationship that imojen could not get enough of. everyone sees this partnership (romantic or platonic) of destructive nature, both of you may or may not know, but regardless it can never be broke off no matter how hard both try.

gimme what i want ╱ the typical fwb relationship, we can add spice to it, but on the base that’s the idea.

night crawling ╱ imojen’s ride or die, the person she would instantly run to for an adventure, midnight strolls, alcohol escapades, and vandalism. but as things you both do burst into haywire, you’re both aren’t afraid to be open to each other too and spill secrets or bodies hidden in the closet.

midnight sky ╱ perhaps a new acquaintance?? friend?? that doesn’t exactly have a first good impression of imojen?? maybe vomited on your muse the first time they met, or jen was really mean for no reason under the influence of alcohol?? she’s chaotic so perhaps it wasn’t a good first meeting.

bad karma ╱ imojen hasn’t been exactly an angel all her life, and perhaps karma has run around to bite her in her ass. your muse might’ve been somebody who hurt imojen; either a terrible break up or severing trust, let’s explore :D

golden g string ╱ a band :D maybe nothing too serious, just a group of pals playing and making music together :D or maybe the group's been playing gigs for awhile now and wants to head into the big leagues :D

honestly im so down with anything so !!!!!!

#[ PINNED POST ]#dallyeog:intro #this has gotten too long SORRYsdfsdf #but thanks for reading <3

9 notes · View notes

crushaa · 4 years

Text

Explaining the long break and how I got diagnosed with ADHD:

This is a post about mental health. There’s a TLDR at the bottom :)

“Apply yourself, Cien. If you wanted to pass this class, you would be trying.”

When I was 15, I got my tonsils out. I got the same kind of statement from a few friends and even family members; “Oh yeah, they used to take EVERYONE’S tonsils out! Even if they didn’t need it, it was the cure to everything. But now everyone’s got ADHD, so that’s the new trend.”

Around the end of July 2019, I was running out of steam. I still had plenty of creative energy, but I couldn't understand why I wasn't able to work on anything anymore. The truth is that I knew I would hit another music block, and I wouldn't be surprised if anyone else expected it too. My posting history has always been very irregular, even back in high school with long unexplained breaks in between new songs. Knowing it would happen, I felt confident in my ability to tackle it and change my pattern of behavior.

I never thought it would last this long. With each month passing by I began to feel guiltier and guiltier, trying to find out why I couldn't do it. I'd sit in front of an empty FL Studio project for hours, and all my Paint Tool Sai canvases never had more than a few lines. As the months went on, some pretty dramatic life events took place- various family deaths, 2 near death experiences myself, an abusive doctor. For whatever reason, I just could not recover.

I used the tragedies as excuses as to why I couldn't do it. It would be reasonable to not be able to do anything. My antidepressants were definitely working for the first time in my life, but why couldn’t I work? I spent the New Year holiday feeling just as guilty and frustrated as ever…. I couldn’t do it anymore. I decided that I was going to go back to my doctors loaded with new theories and ideas as to what could possibly be wrong with me. It never occured to me to tell anyone I couldn’t write more than 2-3 songs in one year when it’s literally my job to write music.

I began speculating the possibility of another psychiatric disorder, and that made me nervous. Would she think I was lying? Or faking it? I could no longer stand the treatment from the nurse practitioner who had been treating my psychiatric illnesses. I’d always been very uncomfortable with how she treated me, but she’d found the rare genetic disorder I had. I felt that I owed my progress to her and that I should stick it out. But I was still leaving her office in tears at the end of every session. An off color comment, passive aggressive reminders to take my medication, the feeling that I had no say in my own treatment plan… it was too much. But she was the only one in town who was available to see me. So I went, and I was administered an MMPI by a psychiatrist in that same building. At the end of February, I’d get the results.

The next appointment with her was the last time she’s ever going to see me. The results of the test had come in as inconclusive, and my world fell apart. She asked what I thought of the results, and I answered truthfully. I told her I was afraid that she saw me as a hypochondriac.

“Well what if you are?” I didn’t answer. “Well, you are,” she went on with a cocky smile.

She began to tell me it was my own fault. She told me I had brain damage. But it was fine, because she told me I could be treated for believing I was still sick.

It affected me deeply, for days I couldn’t stop crying or eat a full meal. The guilt, frustration and embarrassment swallowed me whole; the problem was me. Of course I was making it up. I felt suicidal for the first time in 4 years. There was no point in trying anymore because I as a whole was defective. This world would be better off without a lost cause like me.

I pulled myself out of this headspace for a while one day, and realized that a HEALTH CARE PROVIDER made me feel this way.

WHERE WAS THE BRAIN SCAN, BITCH????

All the guilt, embarrassment, shame- it morphed into a new red hot burning rage. I fired her immediately and revoked any permissions she had. I went to my primary care doctor and asked him to prescribe me my psychiatric medications while I looked for a new psychiatrist, to which he agreed. I asked him for an ADHD test, but he wasn’t comfortable doing it himself. He referred me to a psychiatrist with a 6 month waiting list who then tried to refer me to the abusive nurse practitioner. I set up the six month appointment wait and began to look into doctors in other towns.

On Monday, April 6th, I went to go see a different doctor for something completely unrelated and walked out with an ADHD (Inattentive type) diagnosis. And now less than a week later, everything about my life has changed. 7 long months of executive dysfunction came to an end in the 1 hour it took for the first half-pill to dissolve. Hot damn.

It felt like everyone else in the world was allowed to use the sidewalk to get from place to place, but there was a rule that I had to dodge incoming traffic to get anywhere. Now, I can use the sidewalk too. I am relearning everything that I know.

I am no longer ashamed that I have the GPA of a baked potato. I know that I am not lazy, I am not stupid, and this was NOT my own fault; I was sick and nobody knew. The signs were there, but how we view ADHD has changed entirely since I was a child! People still called it ADD. So why was it so hard to get diagnosed in this day and age?

The stigma has shifted into something far more dangerous than I’ve ever realized it was. I don’t hear “I have ADHD OO SHINY” jokes anymore, you know? We believe it to be a grossly overdiagnosed behavioral disorder meant to punish children for having a lot of energy. We wave it off, calling it the new tonsil removal surgery trend. Of the three types of ADHD; Predominantly Hyper-Impulsive, Predominantly Inattentive (that’s me!), and Combined Type; a mix of the two, there tends to be more stigmatized attention towards the hyper-impulsive type. We believe in what we see, breaking the first rule of mental illness: Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there.

This leaves those suffering from both inattentive type and combined type to rot. Attention deficiency itself doesn’t have much of a stigma because it isn’t even seen as having a seat at the ADHD table. This is catastrophic and will continue to destroy lives because people don’t feel hyper enough to even consider that they might have ADHD. In turn, those who are told to try harder, apply themselves, stop procrastinating, and to stop being so lazy do not receive the proper care they need. Those who suffer without treatment get worse over time; they lose confidence in themselves, they don’t start new things in fear of the inability to finish, they break promises to friends and family with the inability to follow through, damaging important relationships beyond repair.

My confidence has been shattered. I was the artist who failed art class. College was never an option because I knew I’d go straight back to failing every class I took. I feel like I am a burden and the token “lost cause” of my family, the one everybody worries about because I’m not right in the head. I’ve grown to become a reclusive, bashful adult who struggles to make and answer phone calls and emails. ADHD devastated my life in deeper ways than my OCD, my PTSD, my anxiety or depression ever could.

The number of diagnoses are going up because we can recognize it better. This is not a bad thing- science is evolving to show possible causes of the disorder itself. We know not to smoke while pregnant anymore, we know not to eat and drink high fructose corn syrup, we know not to sit in front of blue light screens all day, and we’ll continue to learn.

As soon as I started my medication, I was able to start taking care of myself and working again. The symptoms of my other mental illnesses began to let up, and I felt like a human being for the first time in my life. I have control over my own emotions- I can walk on the sidewalk with everyone else, I am free.

However, it’s going to take the rest of my life to unlearn the methods I came up with to perform basic self-care functions. It will take many years to gain confidence in myself, to make phone calls without shaking or to even consider the thought of college, potato grades and all. But my mindset has transformed from “I can’t” to “Maybe I could try,” --a first for me.

Question everything, don’t settle for the minimum, and don’t stop fighting. Thanks for reading this post. I'm hard at work on Propaganda part 2 and hope to post it on May 31st. See you then :-)

TLDR: ADHD destroyed my life in ways my depression, anxiety and other mental illnesses never could. The stigma surrounding ADHD is shifting to become more dangerous than it has been in the past.

We live in a society.

#Mental Health #ADHD

81 notes · View notes

miss-tc-nova · 4 years

Text

The Cat’s Meow - Jumin Han x Fem!Reader Bonus

I tried SO HARD to keep this to a decent length, but I can not. So suffer! But I love this bonus chapter so much I’m smiling just thinking about it.

Bonus: The Cat’s Meow

“Are you serious?”

“I’m sorry, love, but this is important for partnering with the cat furniture company.”

I heave a sigh, sitting on the bed. “So how long is it going to take? Remember, we have that get together with the SC tonight.”

“I know. I promise I’ll be done before then, but I have no idea when.”

I flop onto my back, grumbling, “You mean I probably won’t get to see you all day.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“No. The last time you tried to make it up to me, I had to convince you not to buy another private island and I’m not having that argument with you again,” I scoff. “Just do what you need ot do. I’ll be waiting for you when you get home.”

“Thank you, love. I’ll talk to you when I can. I love you.”

“Love you too.”With that, the call disconnects. I stare at the ceiling and contemplate what I’m going to do all day by myself.

Things have been going pretty smoothly since we started officially dating. Jumin, Jaehee, and Zen have taught me how to fend off the paparazzi and Jumin’s father has finally come around to accepting our relationship. We even moved in together. It took several months of Jumin agonizing over his own beliefs of living together before marriage, but he eventually caved and asked me to move in with him. Watching the moral struggle was amusing. I only wish his work could be just a little more predictable.

Just as I finish putting the dishes away, I get a message. Jaehee wants me to join her and Yoosung shopping. Seeing as my day has been cleared, I agree and meet the two in the shopping part of town. We wander around for a while until we end up in a higher-end store. As we go, my eye catches a very pretty purple dress.

“Hey, how’s this one?” Yoosung asks, holding up a gray, pinstripe vest.

“Oh, that would go well with your blue jacket,” Jaehee hums.

“What do you think, _____?”

I smile. “It’s nice. You should try it on.” He takes the vest and heads for the changing room and Jaehee gives me a smile. “What?”

Her eyes shift to the dress. “It’s very pretty, isn’t it.” I’d been caught and now I’m worried she’ll tell Jumin on me. “You should try it on.”

“I don’t know about that,” I chuckle nervously. “I’ve got plenty of outfits.”

“Oh go on,” she urges. “It suits you so well. And I’m sure Mr. Han would love it.”

I put a hand to my chest. “Are you threatening me?”

Her eyes roll. “Go on. Just try it on.”

“Fine, fine,” I sigh.

I really hate to admit it, but Jaehee’s got me pinned; I love the dress. The fabric crosses over the torso, creating sleeves that sit just off the shoulder, and it reaches just above the ankles with the A-line skirt, and I’m in love with the royal purple color.

“Show us!” Yoosung calls from outside the changing room.

Embarrassed, I step out of the changing room. “I hate you so much, Jaehee.”

She seems none perturbed. “You look stunning.”

“It’s so pretty,” awes the blonde.

I put my hands to my face. “You guys are absolutely terrible.”

“You have to get it,” the woman encourages.

“I don’t know…”

Needless to say, the two pester me into buying the dress and a pair of silver sandals to go with them. While I leave sulking, I’m excited to show Jumin.

My phone meows mischievously. “Huh? What’s Saeyoung want?”

‘Toy Master incoming!’

“What does that-” Before I finish my question, a heavy force slams into me.

“Impact!”

I look up at the man hugging me who’s got the cheesiest grin on his face. “Saeyoung! What are you doing here?!”

He releases me to stuff his hands in his pockets. “We went and got lunch,” he hums, pointing to his brother catching up. “But now we’re gonna go get ready for the party.”

I check my phone. “Now? The party’s not for another five hours…”

“Yes, but Saeyoung procrastinates everything,” grumbles Saeran, giving his brother a scolding look. “And V asked us to help him with the decorating.”

Saeyoung slings an arm around my shoulder again. “It looks like you’ve all got new clothes for this shindig! Why don’t we all have a pre-party party at our house?!”

“Sorry, but I promised my guild we’d run a few dungeons before the party,” Yoosung replies.

Jaehee sighs, “And I’m afraid I have prior commitments as well.”

“Oooooh! Lame!” Those golden eyes turn to me with hope. “_____?”

Jumin still hasn’t contacted me saying he’ll be off work any time soon. “Sure. Why not.”

“Yahoo! Let’s party!”

“Big mistake,” mumbles Saeran.

From there, I bid Jaehee and Yoosung bye and follow the red-heads back to their place. Just as I flop onto the sofa, Saeyoung lunges for the bag in my hand.“Hey hey! Show us that dress you got!”

“What?” I laugh.

“Yeah! Go put it on! I wanna see it!” His eyebrows wiggle. “Unless you don’t mind me trying it on?”

I jerk the bag away. “No! Knowing my luck, you’d look better in it than I do! And I am not having that image haunting me tonight!”

“Later then!”

I look to Saeran who gives me an ‘I told you so’ look. The red-head begs and begs until I just throw my hands up and give in. For the second time today, I pull on the dress. When I step outside the bathroom, Saeran’s mouth drips ice cream on his shirt and Saeyoung trips mid-step.

A bit pleased with my inadvertent revenge, I smooth out the skirt. “Maybe wearing this tonight will end in a trip to the hospital.”

“Wow! You look great!” Saeyoung shouts, sitting up.

Saeran drags a sleeve across his mouth. “That’s a nice color on you.”

“Ohohoh!” At the speed of light, Saeyoung bolts out of the room and down the hall. Saeran and I stare in confusion until he races back with multiple boxes in his arms. He dumps them on the desk and waves wildly at his chair. “Sit sit sit!”

“Okay okay okay,” I laugh, thoroughly confused but not wanting to find out what happens if I refuse.

Saeyoung cracks open one of the boxes and my jaws drops. He’s got more make up in one box than I’ve had in my entire life.

“Wait! Hold on! I didn’t-”

He grabs my hands, giving me the biggest puppy eyes I’ve ever seen. “Please _____! Let me do your make up! It’s one of my top ten dreams!”

“Your dream is to do my make up?”

“YES!”

As if he knows it’ll make it worse, he pulls off his glasses and continues begging. There was no hope for me. “Fine.”

Saeyoung literally does a victory lap around the house.

Saeran leans closer to me. “You know he’s not gonna stop at makeup, right?” I glance up at him. “He’s got an entire closet full of wigs.”

“Oh no…”

Saeyoung plucks, pads, and pokes at my face while Saeran gives his input. I shoot him a glare when he’s the first to comment what hairstyle would work best. His response is a smug smirk. To my dismay, Saeyoung delves into styling my hair as well. At least he makes Saeran paint all my nails for me. In the end, I’m really impressed at just how good Saeyoung is at this kind of stuff.

“Tadaaaa!”

I nearly stop breathing. It’s perfect; all of it. I could rival Zen. “Saeyoung, I will never in my life ask anyone to do my hair and make up for me again. This is amazing!”

“Of course! Nothing but perfection in my work! And for you, all I charge is kitty pats!”

“As long as you don’t tell Jumin I let you come over, we have a deal.”

“Good,” mumbles Saeran. “Then maybe I can have some peace around here.”

Saeyoung gasps dramatically. “But Sae! Don’t you love your big brother?!” He tries to hug the grump, but the grump resists.

“Nobody can deal with your antics all the time!” Unable to hold off his brother, Saeran goes down, dragging Saeyoung with him. “Get off me!”

“Not until you admit you love me!”

“No!”

“Say it!”

“NO!”

The doorbell rings but obviously the two are not going to answer it. Dancing around them, I pull the door open to see the actor and the photographer.

“Oh hey, __-Wow!” Zen’s eyes go wide. “Damn, that trust-fund-kid is a lucky jerk.”

I giggle and V offers a smile. “You do look lovely, _____.”

“Why thank you,” I hum. “So what brings you into our world of chaos?”

He glances past me into the Choi home. “Well…Saeyoung and Saeran were supposed to come with us to help set up but…I see Saeyoung is procrastinating again.”

“He certainly didn’t procrastinate in attacking me,” I retort, looking back at the boys rolling across the floor. “But I honestly don’t know what you were expecting.”

“Well, guess it’s just us,” Zen says. “Wanna come help?”

I glance back again and decide I should get out of here for now. “Yeah. Sure.” I pick up my bag of clothes and purse. “Sae. Saeyoung. I’m gonna go with Zen and V.”

“See you at the party!” Saeyoung calls, pinning Saeran down. “Say you love me!”

“NEVER!”

Rolling my eyes, I close the door and go with V and Zen to the party location. It’s a small, but very fancy place with a gorgeous garden in the back. The men roll out a few tables while I hang up a banner and some streamers. Because it really is a small party for just the charity members, we aren’t going crazy with the set up.

I lean back. “How does that look? Is it even?”

“It’s perfect. Nice job, doc,” Zen compliments.

He holds the ladder while I let myself down and V calls out to us. “I think we’re almost done. Why don’t we take a break? _____, can I borrow you for a bit?”

I glance to Zen and shrug. We amble towards V and he waves to the door out to the garden. “What’s up?”

“I was hoping you’d be my model for a bit,” V asks sheepishly.

“What?”

“You look amazing and the flowers would be a beautiful background and-”

“He’s an artist. He’s going to be pining to take your picture all night,” chuckles Zen, further instigating V’s awkwardness.

I let slip a nervous laugh. “Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer the god that is Zen?”

The photographer’s hand goes to the back of his neck. “I’ve got plenty of pictures of Zen and I’m looking for more of a feminine touch.”

“Zen wears more make up than I do!”

Zen doesn’t seem offended at all. “It’s probably true.”

“Please, _____?”

“I have ino dea how to be a model.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m a professional.”

“Okay,” I sigh. “What do you want me to do?”

V ushers me into the garden and starts having a field day. Zen tags along with his suggestions or just to pull my attention away from the camera and make it more casual for me. I admit that it’s actually quite a lot of fun, especially with friends to take the edge off the awkwardness.

“And then that rich kid began critiquing Yoosung’s cosplay of him!”

I’m almost crying from laughter. “Are you serious?! Why have I not heard this story before?!”

“Because Yoosung’s ashamed of his drunken adventure. Don’t tell him I told you.”

“Oh you are screwed, buddy.”

V approaches, looking at his camera happily. “Okay. I think I’ve got enough pictures.”

“You ran out of memory, didn’t you,” I question.

“…Maybe.”

I laugh. “I’m happy to have been your model but…you’re not going to display those, are you? Like…publicly?”

He cautiously moves his camera further away from me. “I am.”

“What?! Nonononononono!” The man is easily taller than I am and simply holds the camera above my head. “This is not fair! I was not warned of public use beforehand!”

“What’s wrong, _____?” he replies in amusement. “You look wonderful and I’d never show an embarrassing photo of you…Unless Jumin asks.”

“V! I will take you out by the shins! I-” My phone meows. Pulling it from my dress, I see my boyfriend calling. Instantly, I put it on speaker-phone. “Jumin! V is being a bully!”

“A bully? That doesn’t sound like V,” he replies. I can already tell he’s entertained but I’m still going to stick to my point.

“He took pictures of me and says he’s going to make them public!”

“My love, you are gorgeous, always. And he’s a professional. What could it hurt? Don’t you trust V?”

“Yes, don’t you trust me?” teases the criminal. I stick my tongue out at him.

Jumin goes on, “I’m sure V will be respectful in displaying photos. You’ll be fine.”

“You guys are rude,” I grumble.

“I’m on my way home now. I suppose you’re not?”

“No, I got kidnapped consecutively. But I don’t wanna be picked on anymore, so I’ll meet you at home.”He agrees and I bid the men goodbye to call a taxi.

Jumin beat me to the penthouse but I did not expect him to greet me with a surprise. He’s waiting with a beautiful bouquet of roses in hand. His casual expression softens and he looks like he could melt.

“You’re breath-taking,” he hums softly.

“Oh sweetheart.”

He passes the flowers to me. “I got these for you. Since I’m not allowed to buy private islands anymore,” he ends teasingly. A sweet, loving kiss with just a hint of hunger makes my knees weak, even after all this time. “Though I must admit that they are nothing compared to you.”

“Stop,” I laugh. “You really didn’t have to.”

“Of course I did.” He steals another kiss. “I missed spending the day with you.”

“I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to be lazy later.”

We kill a little time, feed the cats dinner, and are heading out again before long. Upon arrival, Jumin and I appear to be the last ones there and the party starts. Everyone’s normally a bit lively, but there seems to be a bit more static in the air tonight. Nevertheless, I can’t help admiring my friends, the people I love. I get in on the antics and enjoy the night with them.

“Hey hey! Didn’t V have some surprise for us?” Saeyoung announce, easily shifting everyone’s attention to the unprepared man.

He gives a modest laugh. “Well, I did prepare a video for you all.”

“Is that what the projector’s for?” Yoosung asks. I hadn’t even noticed the machine in the corner earlier.

“Yes. I wanted to share some memories with everyone.”

“Please don’t tell me my cosplay of Jumin is in there,” sighs Yoosung.

I start giggling and he glares at Zen while Jaehee hums, “I bet there’s a lot of Zen’s pictures in there.”

With the projector aimed at the blank wall, V clicks at his computer and starts a slide show. We’re instantly greeted with a young Jumin and V and I can’t help but awe. But seriously, the slide show is amazing. There are pictures of everyone by everyone in our happiest moments. I love it. And then I notice that there are an unusual number of pictures of me and Jumin.

“God, are you guys stalking us,” I laugh after the eighth one in a row. And then the pictures of me in the garden come up. “V!”

He grins shamelessly as my boyfriend pulls me back by the arm. So I’m forced to endure the embarrassment of being the focus of this slideshow.

Then there’s a different picture. In the background, I’m there, back to the camera, paying attention to the flowers. However, in the foreground is Jumin, his back also to the camera. Hands behind his back, in one hand is the bouquet of roses he gave me earlier. In his other hand is a sign.

~~~

Will you

marry me?

~~~

I stare in shock, instinctively reaching out for Jumin’s sleeve but he’s not there. Surprised, I turn to look for him, only to find him behind me, on one knee. He opens the box in his hands, displaying the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen.

“Will you?”

Months ago, I would’ve said no, or at least hesitated, but that’s all different now. We’ve grown so much since we met and I can genuinely say that I want to spend my life with him.

“Yes,” I breathe, worried that my voice will break should I be any louder.

The room breaks out in cheering and whistled and somehow, confetti and streamers. Jumin rights himself, slipping the ring into its rightful place. Unable to contain myself much longer, I launch myself at Jumin with a kiss.

Chuckling, he breaks away. “I told you I’d make it up to you.”

My cheeks burn. “You planned everything, didn’t you?”

“Right down to the purple dress.” My jaw drops. “I know what my fiancée likes. Ooo. I like how that sounds.” He brushes his nose against mine. “I love you.”

I giggle at the ensuing peppering of kisses. “Jumin Han, you are absolutely, without a doubt…The Cat’s Meow.”

#jumin han #jumin x reader #jumin han x mc #jumin han x reader #jumin x mc #mm jumin #mysme #mysme jumin #mystic messenger #fem!reader

27 notes · View notes

ecoamerica · 23 days

Text

youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

6K notes · View notes

peculiaritybending · 4 years

Note

do you mind sharing any thoughts/ideas on wolfstar? i love the concept of it but the general characterization is soooo bad lmao. im desperate for content where they actual somewhat resemble their real personalities.

GOD SAME! It’s literally so hard to find anything in character which sucks because I love them so much.

Okay so basically I’mma write some headcanons because I can

They both struggle with nightmares and insomnia a little (Remus more than Sirius) and they both tended to help calm the other down after a nightmare when awake and unable to sleep and that was the first thing that made them feel closer with each other than with James and Peter.

They always felt like their relationship was just different and deeper than just friends but didn’t know what it was for years (you know because like heteronormativity since they were kids/teens in the 70’s)

Remus realised it before Sirius and he just tried to suppress and ignore it as much as possible.

When Sirius realised he had feelings for Remus he dealt with it differently, he wasn’t the type to suppress things like that. He started making an effort to be around Remus more and more but tried his hardest to make it seem as casual he possibly could.

One day, the four of them were walking back from gallivanting in Hogsmeade, Peter and James were mucking about and laughing while Remus and Sirius were walking in silence. Sirius was exhausted from not sleeping well that night and without thinking, just grabbed hold of Remus’ hand. Remus went bright red but didn’t say anything or pull away, to Siruis’ surprise. They held hands all the way back without saying a word.

That moment fucked with Remus’ head and he pretty much thought about it the rest of the night. While everyone was asleep he was up lying awake pondering what it possibly could have meant.

About a month later Siruis came out to the three of them, very awkwardly yet also maintaining his false sense of confidence and ease. I mean, if they were alright with Moony being a werewolf they definitely wouldn’t mind the fact that he liked boys not girls right?

He was right. They were all supportive and swore not to tell anyone, they had come quite accustomed to keeping secrets by then.

though he noticed Remus looked a bit shocked and was avoiding making eye contact with him the whole time which confused him a little. Siruis knew that Remus of all people didn’t judge others for things they can’t control and basically let his friends get away with almost anything so why did he look so freaked out?

This fucked with Siruis’ head and he was the one unable to sleep because of a certain boy’s actions towards him that night

Remus wished he had the confidence to come out to his friends I mean what would they care? He knew for certain they wouldn’t mind but the thing is it was different for him, he knew he liked girls. He knew he liked boys. What the fuck did that mean? Great, another thing that made him feel like a freak, just what he needs.

After a while, Remus couldn’t take it anymore, he had to somehow figure out what he was feeling and there was no book he could read this time so he decided to ask the only person who he thought might possibly have the answer. However, that was easier said than done since that same person was who he was pining after.

One night, while everyone was asleep the two boys sat in the common room like they did occasionally when neither of them could sleep.

Remus was sitting in an armchair reading some book he wasn’t paying attention to while Siruis was lying on his stomach by the fire, making things levitate and staring into the flames.

“Siruis, can I ask you something?” Remus said, breaking the silence, his heart pounding.

“Ask away, Moony,” Siruis responded looking up from the fire.

“Do you um” Remus looked down at his hands, nervously, refusing to make eye contact. “Do you think it’s possible for someone to uh- to like both girls and boys?”

Siruis thought for a second, “I guess so, never really thought about it but yeah.”

“You don’t think it’s you know weird or anthing?” Remus asked

“I think being able to turn into a dog at will is normal so what do you think?” Siruis responds. Remus laughs nervously.

“Why’d you ask?”

“Uh.” Remus paused for a while “I think I like boys and girls,” he mutters.

“Oh,” says Siruis calmly but inside he was screaming. “How did you, you know like figure it out?” He asks.

“Oh uh-“ both of them were freaking the fuck out but trying their best to contain themselves at this point “Uh just some girls are cute and some boys are cute too I guess?” Remus replies extremely awkwardly.

“Oh yeah, makes sense,” Sirius says awkwardly. “Are you going to tell James and Peter?”

“I don’t know yet.”

The next few weeks are filled with a lot of awkward moments between the two.

The full moon rolls around and they all go down to the shrieking shack as usual and as usual it’s all a blur for Remus until he wakes up in the hospital wing the next morning. To his surprise he’s not alone with Madam Pomfrey this time, Peter and James are fast asleep on two chairs pulled up at the end of the bed accompanied by a third where Siruis is sitting wide awake.

“You got pretty scratched up this time so we didn’t want to leave you,” Siruis explains, getting up sitting on the bed facing him. “James was so close to threatening Madam Pomphrey in order to let us stay, I swear it looked like he was gonna kill her or something,” Siruis laughed.

Remus got up slowly, wincing a bit at the pain, his usual thoughts about how he didn’t deserve them racing around in his head, but god was he thankful.

“Are you alright Moony?”

“Yeah it’s just-thank you. All of you.”

“This uh-might not be the best time but about what we talked about a few weeks ago? Do you um still feel that way, you know about boys I mean?” Siruis asked hesitantly.

“Keep your voice down, Padfoot and yes I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it you idiot.” Remus replied, wondering what the fuck he was talking about.

“Okay cause um. Do you want to go to the Three Broomsticks with me this weekend?”

Remus just stared for a while in absolute shock. “You’re fucking joking right? Siruis if this is a dare or you lost a bet with James or something I’m gonna fucking kill you,” Remus responded.

“No-no it’s not-I genuinely want to,” Siruis stammered.

Remus sat there for a moment, his mouth agape. “So you’re not joking-“

“No, Moony, I’m not joking! I’m asking you to go out with me!” Siruis responded, frustrated and just wanting an answer at this point.

“Shhh you’re gonna wake them up!” Remus hissed.

“Well?” Siruis asked, getting pretty nervous now.

“I’ve gotta be dreaming,” Remus mumbled.

“Oh my god just answer m-“

“Yes, my answer is yes.”

“Okay, wow,” Siruis sighed, “What happens now?” He asks still in shock.

“Well, we go to The Three Broomsticks isn’t that what we just-“

“What’s this about The Three Broomsticks?” James asks, finally waking up.

“Oh, Moony and I were just talking about how you and Peter have a thing for Madam Rosemerta,” Siruis answered.

“I do not!” protested Peter.

The days leading up to their date were awkward. So many stolen glances and too long moments of closeness.

The date itself was also awkward but they found their footing. On the way back they held hands, this time not by accident.

Their first kiss was unexpected, they were in the common room as the sun was setting, everyone else was up in the dorms getting ready for bed while the two of them were copying Peter’s homework (since he was the only one who had done it because Remus was too much of a mess to remember and procrastinated a lot and James and Siruis simply didn’t want to do it)

Siruis had finished a while ago whereas Remus was still writing, correcting all of Peter’s mistakes but having a bit of trouble concentrating.

“Siruis, I know you’re staring at me,” Remus said smiling to himself a little and blushing.

Siruis didn’t answer.

“Oi, Padfoot-“

Remus was cut off by Siruis getting up and impulsively pushing their lips together.

Remus, while caught off guard, kissed him back, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close, almost like a hug.

“Sorry, I just really wanted to do that,” Siruis said as they broke apart.

The rest of the night consisted of Remus sitting on the couch with Siruis’ head on his lap, Remus playing with Siruis’ hair while chatting about anthing and everything with a few kisses in between before their insomniac brains were tired enough to go up to bed.

These were some of the memories that kept Siruis going during his time in Azkaban and the memories that kept Remus awake at night, wondering how Siruis could have beytrayed him.

These were the memories that flooded back to them when they embraced years later inn the shrieking shack.

This is literally so bad, I’m sorry.

#wolfstar #hp #harry potter #siruis black #remus lupin #headcanons #fic #my writing #asks

45 notes · View notes

streamacademe · 5 years

Text

Week 106, Day 735.

My trip to Scotland was a success and I managed to collect some samples! But, I don’t want to talk about that this week. As my 3rd year has officially commenced, I would instead like to dedicate this post to lessons I’ve learned as a 2nd year PhD student and reiterate over my coping strategies. So, without further ado... 10 lessons I learned as a 2nd year PhD student:

Be prepared to face some dark times with your mental health - I won’t lie to you, it can, and probably will get pretty ugly. At times it will feel like the entire world is on your shoulders and you can’t breathe. I have had countless mental breakdowns this year, which usually involve bawling my eyes out and hyperventilating, before passing out from the exhaustion of it all, then coming around and crying again. Not fun. I have also suffered from insomnia, and, on the flip side, have had many days where I couldn’t get out of bed. I have included some coping strategies for set backs with mental health at the end of this post.

It will get hard and you’re going to want to quit - I’m sorry to be a bit of a downer, but it’s the truth. For me, giving up is not an option, but even I have had days where I’ve wanted to quit. It’s probably in the terms and conditions of a PhD to feel like this sometimes, but no one ever reads those. How you keep the love for your project glowing is for you to figure out. I always think of the finish line and of how far I’ve come. Or neck a glass of wine, that also helps...

Find a balance between feeling terrified and apathetic, and stupid and self-assured - PhD’s are terrifying, which I appreciate can be exhausting and can lead to feeling apathetic. However, apathy is both a blessing and a curse. It may make you feel calmer and more able, but it sure as hell won’t motivate you to try harder and do better. The same applies for feeling self-assured; yes, you’re clearly a clever bean for getting this far and you should acknowledge and celebrate that, but feeling stupid pushes us to seek knowledge, which is what science is all about.

Focus on genuine priorities - Procrastination/dedicating your time to non-essential tasks are your no.1 enemies. PhD’s are extremely unpredictable and you have to try and be ahead of the game or you risk falling too far behind. So make sure you know exactly what your priorities are and treat them as such.

To do lists and GANTT charts are life savers - On your worst days, refer to these to reorient yourself and stay on track. Make sure they’re always up to date, kept neat, and, most importantly, realistic.

Self-care is critical - And no, I don’t just mean bubble baths with scented candles every night, although those are definitely helpful. Self-care is looking after your mental, physical, and emotional well-being. Pushing yourself too hard can end really badly. Use me as an example, I pushed myself too hard physically and damaged my spine, which resulted in me taking a week off work. I won’t even mention the amount of mental health set backs I’ve had. So, do whatever it is that allows you to rest your bones, de-frazzles your mind, makes you happy, helps you feel better, and makes you feel like you can keep going.

You have to learn to say ‘no’ - This will probably be something you’re not used to or are comfortable doing, but I have learned from personal experience that this is literally the most important thing when it comes to looking after yourself and avoiding burnout.

Your personal growth is impossible to ignore - Who you are when you start your PhD is definitely not the person you will be at the end. You never stop learning and developing in a PhD, but like, at an accelerated rate. I find it fascinating looking back at my progress reports; something that may have felt impossible 6 months ago is now the norm.

Rely on your supervisors for help - THIS IS SO IMPORTANT. You DO NOT have to do everything alone. Ask questions, talk to them about your problems, seek their advice. And if they make you feel inferior, uncomfortable, stupid, or make themselves unavailable to you, contact your student support office/r, because a supervisor should NEVER do that. Furthermore, don’t be afraid to voice your opinions and stand your ground with your superiors, they are only human, just like you, and if you feel like they are misguiding or misunderstanding you, tell them. This is your PhD, not anybody else’s.

Remember that your PhD is your work not your life - As hard as that may be. That is all.

My ways of coping with the challenges of doing a PhD:

Spend time with animals and in nature - Honestly, if I had to choose just one bit of advice, it’d be this. Animals are the definition of joy, and being in nature always reminds me how beautiful the world can be, irrespective of how dark and rubbish mine may feel at times.

Sleep - Getting enough sleep makes my anxiety more manageable, my mood better, and means I have more energy to deal with what life has to throw at me. Don’t listen to how much sleep you “should” have, instead listen to your body and work with it. Personally, I aim for at least 8 hours a night.

Minimalism - I have mentioned minimalism many times on my blog. The benefits of this lifestyle are countless. With respect to my PhD, living with less allows me to have more room to breathe and think. It also means I spend more time on experiences instead of material things. Minimalism also allows me to live intentionally and aligns with my personal values. This in return means that I am more at peace with the life I lead outside of my PhD.

Save money - Not only do savings mean a sense of security, but having money set aside can be really helpful if you are in need of a getaway or simply want to treat yourself without getting into debt. Furthermore, as there is no guarantee of a job straight after your PhD, or if your funding runs out before you finish, it is essential to have some savings as a safety net to fall on if need be.

Read - I use books as a form of escape from reality, typically reading either before bed or in the morning before work. It helps take my mind off the stresses that clutter my brain.

Exercise, eat healthy, and drink plenty of water - I know you’ve heard it all before, but here it is again. It works.

Red Bull (as a last resort) - There are many things in life that have impacted my ability to focus this year, including long drives, bad news, sleepless nights, and mental health issues. However, life doesn’t stop when you want to and so when I’m really struggling I turn to Red Bull for help, and it really does help me. (I don’t drink coffee and tea doesn’t cut it). I always ensure not to drink more than one can a day or drink alcohol within the same 24 hours that I’ve drank Red Bull in.

How I try to cope with mental health set backs: Disclaimer: ‘Try’ is a critical word here as it is not always easy or straightforward to do the below, and, sadly, sometimes none of these suggestions work.

Talk about it - I HATE talking about my mental health issues to people as I don’t want to burden my friends, upset my family, or appear weak at work. However, there are times where I’ve had to, and it’s helped. I mainly talk to my boyfriend about it, but should probably see a therapist. Hey ho, small steps. If you really can’t talk about it, write about it, either publicly or privately.

Perspective - I have been watching a show called ‘New Amsterdam’ recently, which has really helped me see how insignificant some of my problems are. That’s not to say you’re not allowed to feel like crap just because you’re not having open heart surgery, of course you are, but trying to do things that change your perspective can be very helpful in coming out of a mental health episode. Geddit?

Give back - There is always someone having a worse time than you and nothing helps to snap you out of your pity party like lending a helping hand. Whether it’s volunteering at a homeless shelter, running a marathon for charity, or simply donating what you can to a cause you believe in. Give back.

Headspace - I’m sure you’ve heard of this app/website, if not, here it is. Personally, I don’t like Andy Puddicombes voice, or listening to a human in general, so I don’t use the platform for meditation, but they do have a great range of sleepcasts and sounds, which I use to combat my insomnia.

Calming medication (natural) - I use an essential oil aromatherapy roller ball to help me overcome an anxious episode or get me off to sleep. Personally, I use Tisserand for these. I also use Rescue Remedy drops for the same reason (these contain alcohol so aren’t for everyone).

Get the F off of social media for a while - Honestly, your phone isn’t an essential organ, take a break from it, see what wonders it can do for you.

Cut out toxic/negative people - Fill your life with wholesome people, get rid of anyone that makes your recovery impossible, or your life difficult. Be as harsh as you need to be, cry about it, drink about it, but do it, and don’t go back. Here’s a great song to support you through this.

That is all folks. It took me all day to write this, so I hope it’s at least somewhat helpful. ❤ Peace.

Photo: A photo of a sunset that made me feel better after an especially difficult day. Source: My camera.

32 notes · View notes

chronicallypainful · 5 years

Text

It turns out my advisor lets out her inner ableism when stressed

I'm going to write about some events that happened between my advisor and I about a month ago. Thinking about some of this is still pretty stressful for me, but I do think that writing will help the process some of what happened. Also, if the following makes absolutely no sense, you now know why. I feel extremely betrayed. I had trusted my advisor. I had thought that she understood and respected my limitations and my boundaries. Apparently I was wrong.

Though I could sense a growing tension in our relationship for months beforehand, the first issue came directly after my thesis proposal defense. This is a step of the PhD process where you write a document outlining the research steps you intend to take in the questions you intend to answer. You then present this plan to a committee and have to answer their questions.

I passed my defense. I was able to answer all of the technical questions from committee members, and my written proposal was also approved.

I'd been working hard on my proposal for nearly a year. I was technically "late" in defending my proposal, but I was officially granted an extension due to my disability and other health circumstances. Just to lay some of those out for you: -I was diagnosed with sleep apnea in February of my first year in the program. This means that I literally slept through most of my first year courses. I then had to take comprehensive exams over the material, which meant that I spent my first summer studying frantically. I did pass the exams, but I did not have time in that first year to begin a research project. -I can't type without excruciating pain! I do use other tools like speech to text and eye gaze, but these are much slower than typing. -I have a limited capacity to write by hand before I develop excruciating pain. -I'm extremely sensitive to uncomfortable furniture and generally need ergonomic tools in order to even sit at a computer monitor or read a textbook.

The list goes on, but you get the idea.

Therefore, completing my proposal, even a few months later than officially required, was a big accomplishment!

Additionally, I had worked through a lot of pain to achieve this. Some of that pain was caused by the necessary work. I thought I deserved some credit and some space to rest.

When I met with my advisor two days after my proposal defense, her feedback for me was "I really wish you had gotten this done six months ago."

She told me that, basically, she thought I had just been procrastinating for the past six months. Nevermind that it took me about two months to tackle the task of literally writing the proposal, at least a month to make the 2 figures that were included, and many months to read all of the necessary background literature. Also, nevermind the fact that I had actually asked her to read a draft of my proposal the previous summer, which she never found the time to do. Oh, and I suppose we should also conveniently forget about the multiple of the research projects I was involved with, the fact that I was helping a postdoc get up to speed with the technology we used in the group, and the administrative work I was doing documenting the various software tools we used in the group.

Her read on the situation was that I was anxious (true), didn't want to do the proposal (actually false), and had therefore chosen to simply procrastinate (clearly false).

This probably should've been a big red flag.

But I carried on working with her. And then we had a series of meetings in May. I'm not going to attempt to cover everything that happened in those meetings, but I am going to pull some highlights.

The first of these meetings occurred on a day when I was already in a bad mental health place. In the report that I write before each meeting, I included a note stating that I was in a bad mental health place and would prefer to have a very brief meeting. The way I wrote this note, I intended to imply that I would prefer that she just signed the paper I needed her to sign and then let me go home and take care of myself. Though I did not say that explicitly.

My advisor did not respect my wishes for a short meeting. Instead, she dove face first into discussion of a project that was currently stressing her out. In retrospect, I wish I had enforced my boundary more strongly and informed her that I needed to leave. But I didn't do that.

We discussed the grant that was funding my RAship. We had never discussed this before, and I actually didn't even know which granted was that was funding me. But I learned that I had not been contributing much to the specific projects funded by that grant, and my advisor was upset about it. She treated this as if it was my fault, even though I did not have the necessary information.

She really wanted me to finish this one particular project that had been started by a previous student. Working on this project would require a lot of time at the computer, and I wanted to prioritize working on a current paper I'm writing in my limited computer time. When I told her this, and shared that I did not think the deadlines she had posed were realistic given my limited capacity to use a computer, she got very angry. She told me how my limitations were very frustrating to her. Her exact words: "There is always a reason why you can't do what I ask you to do."

I thought she understood that I had limitations and was okay with that. Apparently not. Apparently my limitations were simply not okay with her and she was taking it out on me.

Later in our conversation, she said something else to me that set off alarm bells: "You really need to have a more can-do attitude."

She was referring to the many tasks that I do struggle to complete and tell her should probably be delegated to somebody else. The implication is that I should find some new assistive technology or assistance. I do believe that she legitimately does not know how difficult this can be. And I know she does not understand the degree to which resources simply do not exist.

But, in the face of this, I don't need to work on having a can-do attitude. I already have a can-do attitude. I had to invent my own system to make it possible to write math using speech to text software. I've found hundreds of little modifications or hacks to help me with household tasks. I navigated the world of assistive technology with no professional help. I figured out mobility aids with no professional help. I was told by many well-meaning authority figures that I should pick an easier major than mathematics, given the limitations of my disability. I ignored them, earned a bachelors degree in mathematics, and went to grad school.

Saying that I need a can-do attitude reveals how little my advisor understands about the real struggles of disability, and it's also frankly offensive.

She accused me of not contributing to group projects (which is just false). She implied that I was lazy. She expressed resentment over the fact that her grant had been funding me. She again brought up my proposal and how she wished I had completed it sooner. Regarding my anxiety, she told me that I needed to "grow up."

The stress and anxiety from these meetings was making me physically sick. At times, I was unable to eat because I was nauseous. I was holding a lot of tension in my muscles, leading to increased pain. I was struggling to sleep.

I've had enough experience with my health to know that I couldn't let this go on. I went to a couple of other professors in my department to let them know what was going on. As a "crisis management" solution, they were able to find another funding source for me for the summer, and I have been working on a collaboration with a different professor.

These interactions marked a clear downturn in my mental health. Since then, I've primarily been focusing on trying to rebuild my mental health. I'm seeing a therapist who I really like, and I saw a psychiatrist for the first time a couple of weeks ago. It's hard, but I'm taking it one day at a time.

It's not yet official, but, in the weeks since these incidents, I realized that I needed a new advisor. The unreasonable expectations of my advisor had crept into my brain and are still contributing significantly to my anxiety. I won't be able to completely avoid interacting with her, but I am convinced that I will not allow her to continue to have official authority over me.

I do need to figure out who I would like to advise me instead. There are a couple of logical candidates, one of which I like (but I'm not sure if he's currently taking students), and another one who makes me a little uncomfortable (but I know she has an opening for a new student). I will be talking with people over the next few weeks and working out my next steps academically.

But my main focus will stay on my mental health. It is better than it was, but still feels precarious. The psychiatrist I saw did increase the dose of my antidepressant (which I was already taking for pain). I'm hoping it will help, but it's too soon to say. In the meantime, I'm focusing on one day at a time.

#spoonie student #grad school #chronic pain #chronic illness #disability #school #personal #long post

23 notes · View notes