#work drained me so my brain needs a jumpstart | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joheunsaram · 3 years

Text

To Make A Power Couple - 02 (knj)

Chapter 2 - Pizza and Life Chats

THIS IS A REPOST SINCE I LOST ACCESS TO MY OLD ACCOUNT. PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR UPDATES ON THIS SERIES.

previous | masterlist | next

Summary- Namjoon and Y/N go on their first date, and Namjoon is whipped.

word count- 5k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- pg13 for now

genre- series, fluff, eventual smut, strangers2lovers

warnings- mentions of hangovers and panic attacks, tooth-rottingly fluffy

a.n- okay here’s the second part! I wrote this up fairly quickly (don’t expect this to be the norm!). This part I wanted to kind of address the stress of overworking as a young adult (GUILTY 🙋🏻‍♀️) so sorry if it gets a little serious at parts. I also wanted to switch it up so it’s from Namjoon’s perspective. I hope you enjoy it. SOFT JOON BEING A BIG OLD SOFTY.

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut

Namjoon woke up startled as his phone alarm rang. He was groggy and his splitting headache made him nauseous. “I’m never going to drink again”, he mumbled. He groaned as he got off the couch he had crashed on the night before, trying not to trip over Taehyung who seemed to be dozing happily on the floor as he made his way to his room. He hadn’t stayed at the dorms in a while, preferring the quiet solitary of his own apartment nowadays, and with his hangover in full swing he felt like he was walking through a stranger’s house.

Last month was hell. He had procrastinated on his songs and none of the vocal guides were even halfway done before the due date. Every time he tried to finish a song a new one would pop up in his head and he would start on that, leading to a hard drive full of files labelled “finish soon” and “draft”, and a notebook full of scratched out scribbles. It was like his brain had decided to abandon him, deciding it had had enough of his perpetual melancholy. He had felt drained and burnt out, a husk with no creative juices left. Luckily, Yoongi and a few of the producers had taken pity on his stressed out state and lent a hand so he had been able to finish the bare minimum three days ago - before the label pressured him further. He was never more grateful for a small break.

In all honesty, he needed a way to jumpstart his brain, and get out of the routine of home, practice, meetings, studio, home. Sometimes, he almost wished he didn’t have the success he had so he could go out and let loose a little - a club, a party, anything. But the last time he went somewhere like that he got swarmed and the police had to be involved. He couldn’t risk that, not after the trouble Big Hit went to threaten media outlets a year and a half ago, when he was caught with what they called a hickey, but was actually a stress rash.

As he brushed his teeth today, however, he smiled at the mirror. Last month may have been terrible, but last night was one of the best he’d had in the past year.

When he had heard Bang PD’s team talk about how they were attending the charity gala as he met them for notes on his songs, he was intrigued. He had read about this non-profit in the paper before. They seemed to be helping bridge the gap between people through communication and that spoke to him. So much so that he had scrolled through their website multiple times, reading testimonials and almost memorizing the mission statement. They wanted to help kids learn English for free so they could communicate globally. He really liked the idea. It was hard for him to learn the language as a kid and he knew that the only reason he became as fluent as he is from the tutors his parents paid for and his obsession with American television and music. Although he didn’t need the tutoring anymore, he did enjoy talking to the in-house tutor at the company, John, from time to time and improving his skills. The fact that this company wanted to add a John to every school in Korea starting from the rural areas, made Namjoon want to meet the man behind the movement. Little did he know, he’d be meeting the girl who’d shift his idea of the ideal.

He had never been more glad to have convinced his company to let him and the boys attend an event. He had initially suggested it as a way to break the mundane before their comeback practices started and network while supporting a cause he liked. Two days ago, he wouldn’t have guessed it would have been an actual fun night leading to him nursing a headache.

He spent the next hour reliving last night as he showered and caught up on the news. He also read the messages he sent last night over a hundred times and had butterflies each time. Wasn’t he too old for butterflies? He wanted to message you again but every time he tried, he ended up overthinking it. Everything sounded forced or cheesy, and it was worse than any writer’s block. He threw his phone on the bed in frustration watching it bounce and land on the floor, before he grabbed it and pocketed it. Hopping around to get rid of his nerves, he decided to take a break from rereading the thread he already had memorized and check in with everyone. If his hangover was this bad he couldn’t imagine theirs.

Making his way back to the living room he found Taehyung now sitting on the floor, sleep still very evident on his features as he yawned and groaned. On the couch next to him sat Yoongi, holding an iced americano and staring into space. The rest were missing but he could hear a blender annoyingly whizzing in the kitchen.

“How’re you guys feeling this morning?” He asked as he sat across from Yoongi.

“This is why I don’t drink. Why did no one stop me?” Taehyung whined as he rose from the floor to leave, massaging his head.

“We tried. You were very excited to try all the disgustingly sweet drinks the hot bartender was making for you.” Yoongi replied with a sigh. “How was your date, Namjoon? You glad I forced you to go to the bar to talk to her?” he snickered, sipping his coffee before exhaling loudly in contentment.

“Honestly, I owe you big time. She was… amazing. I don’t think I’ve talked to someone that comfortably in a while” Namjoon sighed wistfully.

“I’ll add cupid to my resume,” he deadpanned. “Is she tolerating you for another date?”

“Yeah. We’re getting dinner on Tuesday, but I want to message her now. Argh!” He ran his hands over his face in frustration. “What do I even say? ‘Hi I’m the guy who was too scared to kiss you all night so you had to do it for him, what’s your favourite colour?’” Namjoon was annoyed at himself. It’s bad enough that he was having writer’s block in his music, did he have to have it for something as simple as texting too? This was ridiculous!

“Or you could just ask her how’s her hangover today. Jeez! Do I have to draft each of your messages? Stop being a dumbass and text the person you like.” Yoongi scoffed, clearly over Namjoon’s sudden and uncharacteristic insecurities.

Namjoon gave a resigned sigh as he reached for his phone and wrote out exactly what Yoongi suggested. Hey, he was his hyung for a reason - he had a full 6 months of life experience on him.

Namjoon: Hey! Hope your hangover is not too bad today.

As soon as the message was sent, he started getting nervous. Tapping his foot incessantly while he stared at his phone, willing it to buzz, annoying Yoongi enough to leave him alone on the couch in the process.

Y/N: Hi to you too! I actually don’t get hangovers so I’m doing great lol. What about you?

Namjoon: What do you mean you don’t get hangovers?

Y/N: I don’t know. Can’t get dehydrated if you’re always dehydrated!

Namjoon: That… makes no sense. Do I need to start reminding you to drink water?

Y/N: Only if you’re better than this app on my phone…

Namjoon: I can guarantee you I’m better than any app on this planet.

Y/N: Wow. Big claims! We’ll have to put it to the test I suppose.

Y/N: You never told me how you’re feeling. Oh and how’s Taehyung? Is he okay?

Namjoon: He’s doing fine. Made a pact to never drink again and if i’m being honest, I’m going to join him. I am shocked that your head is not exploding as well.

The messages continued easily after that, filled with updates of each other’s activities, playful flirting and even photos of dinner. By the time Monday rolled around, you had been messaging each other constantly, with no end to the conversation in sight and the only long pauses being when you were both asleep or working. It seemed like you would never run out things to talk about. Namjoon hadn’t messaged someone this frequently since he got out of his last relationship. It felt nice to relay his mundane day to day events to someone and he found himself excited to hear about your mundane, like how you decided to mix two different types of bad coffee blends to make a shockingly worse one. He was surprised again at how fast he felt comfortable around you. It was even starting to scare him a little - he only knew you for three days and it felt like he had known you forever! What was this weird spell you had on him?

The conversation Monday, however, was fairly sparse, and Namjoon was eager to set up plans for the next day, so that night he decided to call you.

After the first three rings, he was overthinking his decision. Maybe it was too soon to call? Maybe you didn’t like talking on the phone? What if it went to voicemail? Would he have to leave a message? What would he say? His inner monologue was quickly halted at the sound of your voice.

“Hello, this is Y/N” you sounded distant, almost too formal. He felt nervous.

“Hi… uh… this is Namjoon. Is this a bad time?”

“Oh Namjoon! Sorry I didn’t check who called when I picked up!” Relief washed over him at the change of your tone. “Sorry one sec can you hold on.” he heard you say as your voice got mumbled. He waited while he heard you talk to someone about proposals and deadlines. Were you still at work? He checked his watch - it was 10 pm. He didn’t know whether to be impressed by your work ethic or worried that you were overworking.

“Hi sorry about that! How are you?” He relaxed at your airy tone and smiled.

“I’m good. Are you still at work?”

“Yeah it’s only like 7 so it’s no big deal. I usually leave around 8” Were you serious?

“Y/N… It’s 10:04…” He was shocked at how nonchalant you sounded, and suddenly he had his answer - he was worried, not impressed. He had known you for three days and already you were setting his caretaker alarm off. He wanted to scold you for being careless and overworking, like he’s used to doing for the boys, but he knew it was too soon. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling that way all of a sudden and tried to suppress his protective instincts.

“No it’s not! It’s…” He could hear your voice going further away as he imagined you moving the phone in front of you to check the time. “Oh shit you’re right. What the hell? Okay sorry I’m gonna put you on hold again.” Before he could say anything he heard your voice again, distant again but loud. “Oh my god. Guys, it’s 10pm. Go home! Why did nobody tell me? No it doesn’t matter we can do that tomorrow. Please go home. Pack up now! You too Siwon, don’t worry I’ll go home after I get off the phone. See you!” He smiled at the sternness of your tone - it reminded him of a teacher dismissing class.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t realize I overworked my team. Had to send the troops home” you laughed and Namjoon felt his heart flutter.

“I don’t wanna keep you from going home. I can call you back once you get there,” he offered. He felt bad that you were staying in an empty office on his account.

“Oh don’t worry about it. It was a lie to get Siwon off my back. I’m probably gonna be here till like 1 or something. I still have to get this done” you said matter-of-factly, like it was the most normal thing in the world. He knew that tone fairly well, having used it multiple times himself when he locked himself in his studio, running on nothing but coffee and energy bars.

“Okay I know we’ve only just met and we have our first date tomorrow, but do you want some company?” He asked before he could stop himself. The line was silent for a bit, and he felt self conscious, scared that he had overstepped and driven you away. Before he could check his phone to see if you had hung up you spoke.

“It’d be pretty boring for you to watch me just type away. Are you sure? It’s pretty late.” He was sure his cheeks would hurt from how wide he smiled.

“It’s not a problem at all. I was going to work tonight too.” He wasn’t. “We can just work together. I’ll bring food. Did you eat yet?” his words tumbled over each other.

“How very college of you.” He could hear you giggling on the line. “Now that I think about it - I’m starving.”

“Okay text me the address, I’ll be there soon.”

He had never been this excited to pretend to work.

He spotted you as he walked through the doors of the 13th floor, pepperoni pizza in hand. You were sitting at a long desk near the middle of the room. He was surprised as he expected you in an office, but he found you typing away at your desktop. Your hair was tied up in a bun and you were dressed in an oversized beige t-shirt, eyebrows furrowed head bopping to the hip hop track playing through the speakers. You seemed to be in your own little world. He felt like he was spying on you as he leaned against the door watching but he also liked seeing how you acted when you thought no one was watching. He was about to announce his presence when the track changed to a Childish Gambino one and you whooped and started to rap along.

You were now fully head banging and rapping the verse at the top of your lungs. He would be impressed by your fairly good amateur skills if he didn’t find the entire scene so endearing. His heart was doing somersaults as he watched you now fully engrossed in the song, typing forgotten as you got up and started to pretend you were on stage, an imaginary mic in your hand asking haters if they “eatin’ though”. You looked so adorable that he couldn’t help but squeal a little “cute!”

That’s when you saw him, eyes wide. He felt a little bad when he saw how embarrassed you looked, immediately stopping and slapping a hand to your mouth before bursting out in nervous laughter. He could write a whole album with that laugh. Oh he was so whipped, he thought to himself as he made his way to you.

“You know you’re not half bad!” He exclaimed as he set the pizza on the table, pulling a chair next to yours and settling down.

“Do you think your fake compliments will save you from the fact that you were spying on me?” you asked, crossing your hands across your chest, pretending to scowl but failing to do so.

“First, real compliment. Second, would pizza save me?” He opened the box and proudly smiled, loving the way your eyes lit up as you reached for a slice.

“Yes it will!” you exclaimed as you took your first bite, lightly moaning at the taste. “But erase that memory from your brain please.”

“Nope. Never. It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and I’m going to save it forever” he said as he also started on his slice. You pouted up at him, cheeks puffed and it took all the self-control he had to not kiss it off your face. He hadn’t felt this way in so long, it was like you were his first crush. Trying to control his pulse, he asked “What are you working on so late?”

“Oh I have a proposal due for a meeting tomorrow at noon and I’m only halfway through it,” you frowned wistfully at the screen as if willing it to type on its own.

“Can I help?” He asked, knowing fully well that he couldn’t. He just had an overwhelming urge to make that frown disappear.

“You being here is help enough,” you smiled sincerely as you looked at him and he felt his heart explode, a blush creeping on his cheeks as he smiled bashfully. “What are you working on?”

“I have a few songs I have to finish the lyrics for. Been procrastinating” he rubbed the back of his neck as he pulled out the notebook from his back pocket.

“Can I help?” you echoed his question to which he echoed your response grinning. He wasn’t lying though. Even though he had planned to not really work, as the night progressed he found the change from his usual writing spot inspiring. Sitting next to you, the sound of the keyboard clicking was soothing leading to words pouring out of him. He filled pages as he stole glances at you concentrating on your proposal, tongue peeking from between your lips, still bobbing to the music which was now playing from your airpods instead of the speakers. He smiled at the sight, before focusing on his notebook.

After about an hour or so of hard work, he finished three songs that he had allotted himself the whole week to do. This was the most productive hour he had all month. Antsy for a break, he looked over at you and found you staring at him, a hand under your chin. As he met your gaze you smiled.

“You’re really hot when you concentrate. Has anyone ever told you that?” you commented. He was taken aback by your remark, heart fluttering at your smirking face. Not missing his chance and spurred on by the comment, he scooted closer in one sweep till your knees touched and you were face to face.

“You’re one to talk. I couldn’t stop looking at you this past hour.” Gazing into your eyes, he was amused to see your smirk disappear as it was now your turn to be shocked. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind your ear letting his hand linger, enjoying the way you sighed as he did. “Can I make good on my promise now?” He whispered, his face centimeters away, looking at your lips. The way you bit your lower lip made him want to take you there and then. The desk looked big enough. Hell, even if it wasn’t he could make it work.

“Promise?” you whispered as he watched your eyes flutter to his lips.

“To kiss you first…” Too impatient to wait for your answer, he brought his lips to yours, relishing how soft they felt under his own. He was thrilled at you returning the kiss, deepening it as you grabbed the collar of his shirt to bring him closer just like you did after the party. He was beginning to think this was your signature move, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t immensely turn him on. He moved his hand cupping your face to rest on your neck and he could feel your heartbeat mimicking his. He put his other hand around your waist pulling you closer, wanting to be as close to you as he could get. He traced his tongue over your lips, his head cloudy with endorphins as you opened your mouth inviting him in. He had never tasted something so euphoric, his tongue exploring yours in a rush.

He could feel you pushing forward as he leaned back and allowed you to straddle his lap, your legs on either side of the chair. As soon as you were on his lap, he pulled you closer, both arms around on your hips, your chest flushed with his. He kissed the side of your mouth as he made his way down your jaw to your neck. You smelt like vanilla mixed with a fresh flower garden, and he was sure this smell was better than any drug in the world. He could hear your breathy moans as he sucked where your neck met your collarbone, licking to soothe it before moving further. He wanted to taste all of you. Your hands were in his hair and each tug made him groan into you, making him harder. He could kiss you like this forever. He wanted to save this moment so he could come back to it and relive it. He traced his hands up and down your sides, moving under your shirt but remaining on your waist, enjoying the feel of your soft skin.

“Namjoon… Namjoon… slow down” he heard you say breathlessly as he felt a slight push. He looked up at you, your eyes half lidded and lusty as you grabbed his face and brought it to yours. You were sending him mixed signals, but he didn’t care as long as he could keep kissing you.

“We have to slow down or I’m going to want to fuck you right here.” You whined as you both came back up for air, but you kissed him again nevertheless. Hearing you say that made him want to do anything in his power to make that happen.

“I don’t mind, baby,” he said against your lips, kissing you with urgency, biting your lower lip and pulling it gently to elicit another moan from you. To his disappointment, you seemed to have better self-control than him as you pushed him back, both of you panting as you struggled to catch your breath. He moved his hand back to your hips tracing little circles, feeling comforted by you smoothing his hair you had pulled earlier.

“There are cameras here. I’d rather not make a sex tape on our first date.” You giggled as you pointed to the black sphere in the corner of the room. He had never hated the obsession buildings had for security more, but the crudeness of your comment made him laugh. He had almost forgotten this was your first date, it felt like he had kissed you a thousand times before. You tasted like the relief of an awning in the middle of a summer downpour.

“I think we need to cool down,” you say as you climb off of his lap. “Let’s go.”

He followed you as you led him to the little kitchenette near the end of the room, unable to resist the urge to wrap his hands around your waist in a back hug. He knew he was being too clingy for a first date, but the way you giggled and put your hands over his gave him assurance.

“Lemonade, coke, or water,” you asked as you peered into the fridge.

“You.” He smirked kissing your neck, feeling bold off of the high from your makeout session.

“Joon!” you pretended to sound scandalized as you turned in his arms, smiling warmly. The nickname made his heart swell. It added a familiarity that he didn’t know he missed from you.

“You haven’t called me Joon before. I like it” he smiled as he pecked your lips.

“Hey! We are cooling down! No kissing! Now pick” you chided and Namjoon couldn’t help but wonder if you were this assertive in bed too, a million scenarios playing in his head. Okay, you were right, he needed to cool down.

“I’ll just have water, thanks,” he said as he grabbed the bottle you passed him, opening and gulping half of it. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was for something other than you. You both made your way to the tables, sitting across from each other.

“So did you finish your proposal?” He asked trying to cool himself but failing as he noticed you running the cold water bottle against your neck, the beads of condensation dripping on your shirt. He cleared his throat as he tried to focus his attention on your eyes, a mantra of stay focused playing in his head.

“Yes! Finally! It’s perfect.” you smiled proudly and somehow he felt a wave of pride too. “What about you? Made any progress?”

“Actually yes. I kind of finished my entire week’s writing in that one hour” he was still amazed by his own progress.

“Okay, Mr Overachiever” you joked and he chuckled.

“To be honest, I didn’t think I’d be able to write anything, but I don’t know your presence is kind of soothing. It helped me focus.” Watching your smile grow wide, he continued, “I’ve been having pretty severe burnout this past month and it has just been hard to put down my thoughts, even non-lyrical ones.” He fidgeted with the water bottle as he looked at it, avoiding eye contact.

He didn’t know why he was telling you this. He recalled when he told you about his struggles as a leader during your first conversation. Somehow being around you led him to vomit out his feelings. It was… unlike him. Namjoon was usually not this honest on dates, or relationships, as much as he would hate to admit it. That’s the reason he broke off his last one. He felt bad lying to her about a busy schedule when he just wanted to be alone. She would have understood, she was kind and thoughtful, but it just felt easier to lie and not put the effort in to explain his thoughts. Even when they broke up, he lied and told her that it was because he couldn’t handle being in a relationship at the moment, when in reality things had cooled off a while ago and he felt guilty as his feelings faded.

He felt your hand reach out and grab one of his, intertwining your fingers. He felt comforted by the gesture as you rubbed your thumb across him before you spoke two words that warmed his heart. “I understand.”

“You know it’s hard to work at full speed all the time. It’s okay to not be at a hundred all the time. The valleys feed the peaks” you continued. It was a simple remark, but it sounded surprisingly poetic to him. He hadn’t felt this understood outside of the boys for a long time. It was refreshing. It was terrifying. He resisted his natural urge to run and hide.

“Are you speaking from experience?” he asked, needing to divert the attention away from his own vulnerabilities.

“Yeah. I had it pretty tough a couple of years ago. Too much pressure from myself, too many expectations. Led to too many vices and panic attacks” you shrugged as you continued and he squeezed your hand to comfort you. “It creeps up from time to time but my therapist and I have it handled” He looked at you in awe. You hadn’t given him a throwaway answer or switched the limelight back at him. You wasted no time in being as vulnerable as him, if not more. He knew at that moment that regardless of where this thing went, he wanted you to know you better.

“Thank you for being honest.” He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it gently. It was an intimate gesture but he wanted you to know how much he appreciated your words - how much he appreciated you - in that moment. You both sat in comfortable silence for a little while, playing with each other’s hands that were still intertwined, till one of you yawned loudly causing the other to giggle. With the weight of the conversation lifting, you both fell back into playful banter as you decided to pack up and call it a night.

“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” Namjoon asked, wanting to drag the night on longer despite it already being almost 2 am.

“Don’t judge me but I actually don’t know how to drive. I was just going to cab back.” he saw you giggle bashfully as you pulled your backpack over your shoulders.

“Oh, no judgment here! Me neither” he laughed. Why does everyone think it is such a big deal to not drive? It’s better for the environment! “Do you want to take one together? I don’t really want you to ride alone this late.” He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping he didn’t come off as if he was trying to dictate what you did.

“I’d really like that,” you said as you walked towards the elevators. He held your hand as you both got on, liking the way you moved closer to him at that.

In the cab you both sat closer than necessary, his arm wrapped around you as you both made plans for your scheduled date later that day, trying not to doze off. When the cab stopped all too soon at your apartment, he kissed you gently as he told you how much he enjoyed your company.

That night laying in bed, his heart felt full as he read your goodnight message. He was sure of it now. He really wanted you in his life.

previous | masterlist | next

171 notes · View notes

hatsukeii · 4 years

Text

Fam I needed to just write something to restart my brain and jumpstart some shit so

Just yeah you can ignore this fic if you’d like but I’d say still maybe give it a read because I don’t even know what I’m doing it’s 6am and I was brainstorming and got this

Angst btw, haven’t done that in a while

Okay but before that look at my baby though like he’s so perfect and precious and I love him sm🥺 so let’s make him suffer more on my blog hm🥰

Proud// Tsukishima Kei x Reader

Word count: 1.6k+

Warnings: Depression, self hatred, self harm, dead reader

Summary: I honestly don’t know at this point I just wrote down everything I could think of

All that clouded his mind were thoughts of disappearing. Staring mindlessly over the school’s rooftop, he felt a sense of euphoria. Maybe it was just his suicidal tendencies, or maybe it was more, but at that very moment, Tsukishima was imagining how it would feel to jump right off. It didn’t matter, really, did it? People took it as a joke. They took his attempts as a joke. “You’re just being overdramatic,” they’d say. “There’s no way you’d ever do that.” “Stop chasing attention.” Even with cuts on his bare skin, nobody reached out. “You wanna die? I’ll buy you pills later, yeah?” Well, yes, he did want to die, but the team never realised he was serious about it. Nobody ever realised he was serious about it. High schoolers took mental illness as a joke anyways. A twisted, disgusting, horrid joke that Tsukishima could do nothing about but smile and laugh along in order to hide his pain.

Except you.

He still remembers the way you would smile at him. God, you were the only one that would do that. How you sat with him in an empty classroom every single day, rubbing circles into his back as you told him everything would be okay. All those library weekends and study dates together, and not once did you ever complain about his need to rant. You were there to listen to him when no one was, yet all good things had to end. You were gone, and he wasn’t sure what to make of your death. It hurt. Everything hurt. His mind wasn’t stable enough to process it.

It was when you finally gave your last breath in that stupid, stupid hospital ward, did he realise how much he needed you. All the times he’s stopped himself from overdosing were because of you. He knew how devastated you would be if one day you woke up to the death of him on the news. You’ve done so much for him, he would never let himself cause you pain. Never. Yet now, he was back to square one. He was alone again. He was left on his own to fight through this dull, torturous, cruel world. He had to push on with his life, yet there was no one here to push on for. His one reason for living was gone.

The rooftop was quite chilly. Wind blew across Tsukishima’s, as if it was slapping him across the face. Did he look good at that moment? Tucking his shirt back in properly, he grabbed a jumper from his bag, pulling that over himself. If he was going to mourn, might as well mourn looking at least decent. He didn’t remember the wind being this cold. Was it always this cold? “Hey (Y/n), do you need a sweater...” He turned around, expecting to face you, when another gush of wind sliced across his cheeks. This was going to take a while to get used to. He used to let you wear his sweaters when it got chilly like this. You would always pull the sleeves over your hands to make sweater paws, the one thing that never failed to make Tsukishima smile stupidly. The extra sweater he habitually brought to school now sat in his backpack, with no one here to wear it. Sure, he could give it to someone else, another girl even, but it wouldn’t feel right. It never would.

“Ahh, it really never lasts does it?”

And he would be right. The best relationships never last for him. Was it a curse? Some kind of sick hex on him? He would never know. Two good relationships down the drain. First his brother, now you. Why didn’t he see the signs? How you oftentimes skipped school without a warning, the way your face went paler and paler by the day, it almost made him laugh at how utterly stupid and unsuspecting he was. How could he have let all those little things slide? He hated himself for not noticing earlier. If he knew he would’ve done anything to make you the happiest person he knew. There were so many things he wanted to do with you. He was planning on bringing you on a date someday, before telling you how he had quit the cutting. He wanted to show you all the constellations someday, as per your request to him. He wanted to feel your arms around him, hands stroking his hair and his neck tickly from you mumbling sweet nothings into it. He wanted to one day hold your hand in his, comparing the sizes as he laced his fingers with yours. He was trying so hard not to disappoint you. He made a promise to himself that he would let you be the first to know, yet that won’t work out now that he can’t tell you anything. He was so close to his goal, going from cuts all over his arm to occasionally a cut or two on his wrist. He could imagine the way you would cover your mouth like you do when you cried at the movies out of joy, before lunging forward and holding him tight, not letting go, just like how you usually would when he made you proud. Would someone else ever do that for him? No, that would be over demanding for anyone else. High schoolers didn’t have time for shit like this. Nobody cared enough to sit there for hours on end trying to unravel the puzzle that is his mind.

He could almost hear you next to him, patting his back and whispering into his ear just like the old days.

“Kei, I’m so sorry. I really am. But I... please don’t hate yourself. Hate me. Hate me for leaving you so soon. Hate me all you want, but never, ever hate yourself. You are the best thing I’ve ever com across. Your poor soul needs to heal, and I promise, I’ll be watching you from above.”

The thought of your last words snapped the fragile string in him as tears rolled down his cheeks, the rooftop breeze blowing them into his mouth. He would never hate you, even if you wanted him to. He simply couldn’t and that goes without question. When he heard about you being in a hospital ward, he practically dropped everything he was doing and zoomed over, praying he could see you at least one last time.

“I... fuck- promise..?”

He shakily held out his pinkie, his eyes shut tightly as he tried to stop the tears. For a moment, he felt your pinkie graze against his, before it fell.

“(Y/n)..? (Y/n) wake up, wake up please! Please, you can’t leave me now, I can’t handle it by myself, please... I’m begging you...”

Your parents stared as the unknown blond boy wailed, pouring his tears onto their child’s hospital bed as he refused to accept it.

“(Y/N)! I’M SORRY, I’M SO, SO SORRY! I’M... I’m sorry, I couldn’t make you the happiest person in the world.”

It’s okay, you thought.

You already did, Kei.

He never got a reply to his question.

“Tsukki? Tsukki! Lunch is about to end!”

“Ah, shit”

Rubbing his eyes, he looked down, eyes painful from crying. Was it already the end of lunch? Probably, but it wouldn’t hurt to skip a class or two once in a while.

“It’s fine Yamaguchi.”

His friend was the most concerned after your death. He knew that Tsukishima was bound to have a hard time accepting the death of his anchor. He may not have realised it himself, but Yamaguchi knew Tsukishima well. And from everything that he’s seen, he was absolutely sure that he was in love with you. He was so in love with you to the point where he would probably never recover from losing you. He could see that you were such an important part of his life, that losing you would be equivalent to dying. Yet now, his best friend was alone again. Yamaguchi never fully understood Tsukishima, you were the only one that was able to dig deep into his mind and console him properly. You were the definition of his comfort and vice versa. The two of you were inseparable. Yamaguchi truly didn’t know how to help at this point. Tsukishima was damaged beyond return.

“Tsukki, I know it’s really hard on you, but I promise it’s going to get better. Please don’t do it even if you think it’s worth it because it’s not. I’m not saying this out of pity. You helped me up at my lowest and I want to do the same for you. Losing you would be losing the person I’m the most thankful for.”

Tsukishima would kill himself with no problem. What stopped him was knowing that even if he did, he wouldn’t be able to meet you. He could never see you again no matter how hard he tried. A person like you, who selflessly helped him during his hardest times, greeted everyone with a smile, you were bound to end up somewhere nice, whether it was heaven, or reincarnated into a millionaire. The universe would never accept someone like himself. He hurt himself and others in many ways, he was going to hell for everything he had done, and although that would be okay with him, a promise was a promise.

So he was going to live.

He was going to live on, stop cutting, and be the best person he could, all in honour of you.

He was going to live and make you, watching him from above, proud, even if the two of you were to never meet again.

Tags:

@izzyphantomgamer @sunshines-and-tatertots @tiredgr3mlin @tiger1719 @skyeackermans @macaronnv @ewfilthymundane @samanthaa-leanne @kaylacinderella @inlwlevi @random-fandomlover @majorfangirl37 @itmekisuu @trashcanweeb @sakusasgarbage @eightaces @fandomwriter73 @mariechan123 @iwaigroomi @oyasenpai @sneezefiction @emsvegetables @poppirocks @shoutsukii @bokutokoutarou @artsamber @xonfusedsoul @justachillgirl @just-another-bored-writer

I’M BACK FUCKERS

I’ll do some requests now lmao

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu tsukishima #hq #hq x reader #hq imagines #hq scenarios #hq headcanons #hq tsukishima #hq tsukki #tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu angst #manga #anime

152 notes · View notes

joheun-saram · 4 years

Text

To Make a Power Couple (knj) | 02

Chapter 2 - Pizza and Life Chats

previous | masterlist | next

Summary- Namjoon and Y/N go on their first date, and Namjoon is whipped.

word count- 5k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- pg13 for now

genre- series, slow burn, fluff eventual smut, strangers2lovers

warnings- mentions of hangovers and panic attacks, tooth-rottingly fluffy

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut

Last month was hell. He had procrastinated on his songs and none of the vocal guides were even halfway done before the due date. Everytime he tried to finish a song a new one would pop up in his head and he would start on that, leading to a hard drive full of files labelled “finish soon” and “draft”, and a notebook full of scratched out scribbles. It was like his brain had decided to abandon him, deciding it had had enough of his perpetual melancholy. He had felt drained and burnt out, a husk with no creative juices left. Luckily, Yoongi and a few of the producers had taken pity on his stressed out state and lent a hand so he had been able to finish the bare minimum three days ago - before the label pressured him further. He was never more grateful for a small break.

As he brushed his teeth today, he smiled at the mirror. Last month may have been terrible, but last night was one of the best he’d had in the past year.

When he had heard Bang PD’s team talk about how they were attending the charity gala as he met them for notes on his songs, he was intrigued. He had read about this non-profit in the paper before. They seemed to be helping bridge the gap between people through communication and that spoke to him. So much so that he had scrolled through their website multiple times, reading testimonials and almost memorizing the mission statement. They wanted to help kids learn English for free so they could communicate globally. He really liked the idea. It was hard for him to learn the language as a kid and he knew that the only reason he became as fluent as he is from the tutors his parents paid for and his obsession with American television and music. Although he doesn’t need the tutoring anymore, he does enjoy talking to the in-house tutor at the company, John, from time to time and improving his skills. The fact that this company wanted to add a John to every school in Korea starting from the rural areas, made Namjoon want to meet the man behind the movement. Little did he know, he’d be meeting the girl who’d shift his idea of the ideal.

He had never been more glad to have convinced his company to let him and the boys attend an event. He had initially suggested it as a way to break the mundane before their comeback practices started and network while supporting a cause he liked. Two days ago, he wouldn’t have guessed it would be an actual fun night leading to him nursing a headache.

He spent the next hour reliving last night as he showered and caught up on the news. He also read the messages he sent last night over a hundred times and had butterflies each time. Wasn’t he too old for butterflies? He wanted to message you again but everytime he tried, he ended up overthinking it. Everything sounded forced or cheesy, and it was worse than any writer’s block. He threw his phone on the bed in frustration watching it bounce and land on the floor, before he grabbed it and pocketed it. Hopping around to get rid of his nerves, he decided to take a break from rereading the thread he already had memorized and check in with everyone. If his hangover was this bad he can’t imagine theirs.

“How’re you guys feeling this morning?” He asked as he sat across from Yoongi.

“This is why I don��t drink. Why did no one stop me?” Taehyung whined as he rose from the floor to leave, massaging his head.

“Honestly, I owe you big time. She was… amazing. I don’t think I’ve talked to someone that comfortably in a while” Namjoon sighed wistfully.

“I’ll add cupid to my resume,” he deadpanned. “Is she tolerating you for another date?”

“Or you could just ask her how’s her hangover today. Jeez. Do I have to draft each of your messages? Stop being a dumbass and text the person you like.” Yoongi scoffed, clearly over Namjoon’s sudden and uncharacteristic insecurities.

Namjoon gave a resigned sigh as he reached for his phone and wrote out exactly what Yoongi suggested. Hey, he was his hyung for a reason - he had a full 6 months of life experience on him.

Namjoon: Hey! Hope your hangover is not too bad today.

As soon as the message was sent, he started getting nervous. Tapping his foot incessantly while staring at his phone, willing it to buzz, annoying Yoongi enough to leave him alone on the couch in the process.

Y/N: Hi to you too! I actually don’t get hangovers so I’m doing great lol. What about you?

Namjoon: What do you mean you don’t get hangovers?

Y/N: I don’t know. Can’t get dehydrated if you’re always dehydrated!

Namjoon: That… makes no sense. Do I need to start reminding you to drink water?

Y/N: Only if you’re better than this app on my phone…

Namjoon: I can guarantee you I’m better than any app on this planet.

Y/N: Wow. Big claims! We’ll have to put it to the test I suppose.

Y/N: You never told me how you’re feeling. Oh and how’s Taehyung? Is he okay?

Namjoon: He’s doing fine. Made a pact to never drink again and if i’m being honest, I’m going to join him. I am shocked that your head is not exploding as well.

The conversation Monday, however, was fairly sparse, and Namjoon was eager to set up plans for the next day, so that night he decided to call you.

“Hello, this is Y/N” you sounded distant, almost too formal. He felt nervous.

“Hi… uh... this is Namjoon. Is this a bad time?”

“Hi sorry about that! How are you?” He relaxed at your airy tone and smiled.

“I’m good. Are you still at work?”

“Yeah it’s only like 7 so it’s no big deal. I usually leave around 8” Were you serious?

“Sorry about that. I didn’t realize I overworked my team. Had to send the troops home” you laughed and Namjoon felt his heart flutter.

“I don’t wanna keep you from going home. I can call you back once you get there” he offered. He felt bad that you were staying in an empty office on his account.

“It’d be pretty boring for you to watch me just type away. Are you sure? It’s pretty late.” He was sure his cheeks would hurt from how wide he smiled.

“It’s not a problem at all. I was going to work tonight too.” He wasn’t. “We can just work together. I’ll bring food. Did you eat yet?” his words tumbled over each other.

“How very college of you.” He could hear you giggling on the line. “Now that I think about it - I’m starving.”

“Okay text me the address, I’ll be there soon.”

He had never been this excited to pretend to work.

____________________________

“You know you’re not half bad!” He exclaimed as he set the pizza on the table, pulling a chair next to yours and settling down.

“Do you think your fake compliments will save you from the fact that you were spying on me?” you asked, crossing your hands across your chest, pretending to scowl but failing to.

“First, real compliment. Second, would pizza save me?” He opened the box and proudly smiled, loving the way your eyes lit up as you reached for a slice.

“Yes it will!” you exclaimed as you took your first bite, lightly moaning at the taste. “But erase that memory from your brain please.”

“Oh I have a proposal due for a meeting tomorrow at noon and I’m only halfway through it.” you frowned wistfully at the screen as if willing it to type on its own.

“Can I help?” He asked, knowing fully well that he couldn’t. He just had an overwhelming urge to make that frown disappear.

“You being here is help enough,” you smiled sincerely as you looked at him and he felt his heart explode, a blush creeping on his cheeks as he smiled bashfully. “What are you working on?”

“I have a few songs I have to finish the lyrics for. Been procrastinating” he rubbed the back of his neck as he pulled out the notebook from his back pocket.

“Promise?” you whispered as he watched your eyes flutter to his lips.

“To kiss you first...” Too impatient to wait for your answer, he brought his lips to yours, relishing how soft they felt under his own. He was thrilled at you returning the kiss, deepening it as you grabbed the collar of his shirt to bring him closer just like you did after the party. He was beginning to think this was your signature move, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t immensely turn him on. He moved his hand cupping your face to rest on your neck and he could feel your heartbeat mimicking his. He put his other hand around your waist pulling you closer, wanting to be as close to you as he could get. He traced his tongue over your lips, his head cloudy with endorphins as you opened your mouth inviting him in. He had never tasted something so euphoric, his tongue exploring yours in a rush.

“Namjoon… Namjoon... slow down” he heard you say breathlessly as he felt a slight push. He looked up at you, your eyes half lidded and lusty as you grabbed his face and brought it to yours. You were sending him mixed signals, but he didn’t care as long as he could keep kissing you.

“I think we need to cool down,” you say as you climb off of his lap. “Let’s go.”

“Lemonade, coke, or water,” you asked as you peered into the fridge.

“You.” He smirked kissing your neck, feeling bold off of the high from your makeout session.

“Joon!” you pretended to sound scandalized as you turned in his arms, smiling warmly. The nickname made his heart swell. It added a familiarity that he didn’t know he missed from you.

“You haven’t called me Joon before. I like it” he smiled as he pecked your lips.

“Yes! Finally! It’s perfect.” you smiled proudly and somehow he felt a wave of pride too. “What about you? Made any progress?”

“Actually yes. I kind of finished my entire week’s writing in that one hour” he was still amazed by his own progress.

“Okay, Mr Overachiever” you joked and he chuckled.

“Are you speaking from experience?” he asked, needing to divert the attention away from his own vulnerabilities.

“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” Namjoon asked, wanting to drag the night on longer despite it already being almost 2 am.

“Don’t judge me but I actually don’t know how to drive. I was just going to cab back.” he saw you giggle bashfully as you pulled your backpack over your shoulders.

“I’d really like that,” you said as you walked towards the elevators. He held your hand as you both got on, liking the way you moved closer to him at that.

That night laying in bed, his heart felt full as he read your goodnight message. He was sure of it now. He really wanted you in his life.

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

previous | masterlist | next

#bts fic #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts rm scenario #bts scenarios #bts #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #bts rm #bts namjoon #rm x reader #rm fluff #usersuhdays

118 notes · View notes

averykedavra · 4 years

Text

Valley of the Dolls 2/10

The wonderful idea of apathy!Roman goes to @caffeinated-cryptid, an amazing artist and all-around great person. Check out their @ts-unsolved au, it owns my heart! This is mostly in line with their ideas, but I took it in a slightly different direction. And my description doesn’t do justice to their amazing costume design, so take a look yourself! Also, this chapter is chock-full of my favorite headcanons. I got some of the ideas from this post and this post. You can find this fic on Ao3 here.

(Title is from Valley of the Dolls by MARINA. Chapter is based around Surrender by Malinda)

Pairings: platonic DLAMPR

Warnings: sympathetic Remus, sympathetic Janus, a ton of angst (but I’ve got a happy ending planned), blood mentions, death mentions, death threats, slightly NSFW jokes, attempted violence. Basically Remus being Remus. Set immediately after Putting Others First.

Summary: After the disastrous video and a week of spiraling, Roman becomes a Dark Side, Apathy. At first, Remus is thrilled, dragging his brother into all sorts of trouble. But Roman’s no fun anymore, the other Sides are paying a visit downstairs, and it’s becoming clear that Thomas can’t survive without Creativity by his side.

Chapter 2: Hours From Another Day

First. Previous. Next. Masterlist.

We're a bomb, ticking time away You belong to hours from another day... All we need is one disaster, one relief Hearts beat, hoping for that old belief... But that was then, and this is now And we made it through the woods somehow Willing and able to breathe.

Remus was minding his own business, welding two dildos together, when his brother fell from the ceiling and landed on the living room carpet.

Remus hopped off the couch and tossed the half-melted dildos behind him, where they burned a hole through the middle cushion. But there were enough stains and burns already that the new hole fit right in.

Roman was lying still, three inches from the coffee table with the extra tentacle leg, face-down and silent. Wait, was it Roman? He wasn’t wearing the right clothes. Black, not white. And Roman would never go this long without jumping up, waving his sword, and making declarations of undying love or great heroism or something.

Still. Remus just knew. Maybe it was intuition, or twin-tuition, or separated-from-this-guy-at-age-seven-tuition. This was Roman Creativity Sanders himself, lying on the Dark Sides’ ragged tan carpet.

Which begged the question. What in the name of Mary Shelley was he doing here?

“Ro-bro?” Remus asked. “Why’d you decide to drop in?”

Roman didn’t congratulate Remus on his pun. He didn’t respond at all. He didn’t even twitch.

“You in there?” Remus tilted his head, neck cracking. “Did you pass out? You’d better not have passed out, Jan will kill me if I bring another unconscious human into his room.”

No answer.

Remus summoned a chalkboard and dragged his nails down it. The ear-splitting screech echoed around the room.

Roman didn’t flinch.

Which was rude! Remus didn’t like being ignored. He grabbed the fused dildos and chucked them at Roman’s back. But he’d never been super great at throwing things so it flew over Roman’s shoulder and began to burn a hole in the carpet. Eh, there were lots of stains in the carpet, too. Nice things in the Downstairs didn’t tend to last very long.

“C’mon!” Remus prodded Roman with his foot. “C’mon, wake up! Say something! This is boring!” He kicked Roman’s ribs, hard, and Roman curled a little tighter, making a pained noise.

Success!

Now. If a kick got him to move, what would get him sitting up and talking? Maybe a nuclear warhead in the face? Or nipple tasers? Or branding his face with swear words! All fun options, but if Roman was in too much pain to talk, it wouldn’t do anyone any good.

Remus decided answers were more important than nipple tasers. A sad truth, but there it was.

“Get up,” Remus ordered, kicking him again. “Or I’ll electrocute your nipples.”

Usually, that statement elicited a lot of screaming. Or, in Jan’s case a ‘good for you, Remus,’ but Jan was different. So it was a surprise when Roman didn’t even look up.

Was he sleeping? Unconscious? Ignoring Remus like the little bratty baby he was? Wait, was he dead? No, he wasn’t dead, he’d moved—but what if he died right after that? Could Sides die? Remus had done a lot of real nasty stuff that would probably kill a regular boring human body twenty times over. If ripping out his own beating heart and feeding it to a dinosaur didn’t kill a Side, Remus didn’t think anything would.

But Roman still wasn’t moving. And hey, intrusive thoughts sucked. Remus couldn’t stop picturing Roman dying, his corpse decaying on the carpet, his eyeballs drying up and—

He wasn’t dead! He was breathing! He was breathing, right? He wasn’t dead, right? Remus sniffed at him and grabbed his arm, lifting it high in the air. It immediately fell back down. Alrighty, fun game! But he needed to figure stuff out. No time for games. Be a detective instead! Logan liked detective stuff, right? Remus caught him reading a Sherlock x Watson fanfic that one time. What would Logan do, and how could Remus do that better and with more butts?

Remus stuck out his tongue as he thought. He should try to gather information! Right? Like the answer to that is-Roman-breathing question. He’d completely forgotten about that. Sometimes Remus really didn’t like how his mind worked, all slippery and fluid and changeable. Like a greased pig on caffeine. How slick was a greased pig anyway? Were some animals faster when greased? What about humans? What about a few specific body parts—

Breathing. B-R-E-A-T-H-I-N-G. Focus, focus, focus. Remus had a mystery to solve and he didn’t have time for this.

How did someone check for breathing? Remus held his hand in front of Roman’s face. Was that breath? He hoped it was. He barely got to see his bro and it would be a real shame if Ro-Bro’s visit was cut short by cardiac arrest. If Roman died before Remus got to kill him, Remus would murder him.

Wait, heartbeat! That’s something Remus should check, right? Remus immediately reached for Roman’s chest to extract his heart. Nope. Wait a sec. They were both Creativity. Injuries hurt when the other did them.

Although it might get Roman to move—

Before Remus could decide whether to jumpstart Roman’s brain with a defibrillator-style shock to the system, Roman shifted again. It was tiny, but there.

Okay. Definitely alive. Cool. Cool cool cool. Was he asleep? Wouldn’t the impact have woken him up? And he was sleeping face-down, which sounded fun and suffocating but not the sort of thing Roman was usually into. Remus couldn’t see if his eyes were open. They’d better not be, or Roman was just ignoring Remus and making his life harder on purpose.

Remus lodged his foot under Roman’s chest and flipped him over.

Huh.

That was new.

Roman wasn’t wearing his usual prince costume. Well, he was? Sort of. But the white parts were all black, and the sash might have been darker as well or maybe it was just Remus’ imagination. Maybe it was because the red didn’t gleam and the gold didn’t shine. Roman was always easy to spot, like a strangely plumed peacock. Remus was the same, dousing his outfit in sparkles and ruffles. Maybe it was tasteless in Remus’ case, or ostentatious in Roman’s, but it made sure they were always the center of attention. Now, the colors were dull and seemed out-of-place on Roman’s outfit. They didn’t have any life to them, like veins with the blood drained out, only a shell left behind.

This was Roman, right? He’d never be caught dead in that outfit. It looked like Jan and Virgil had dressed him on a dare. But no. It was Roman’s face. Although his skin was pale and he looked a little thinner than usual and dark purple makeup dripped down his face. Like tears.

And was a lock of hair in front darker than the rest? Remus absently reached up and fingered his own white patch. He’d dyed it as a teenager and kept it around. It reminded him of Cruella de Vil, of raccoons. Roman talked about dying his hair sometimes, but usually something colorful. Red, or purple, or full rainbow. Never just darker brown.

Very emo indeed, Remus decided. Maybe this was a prank from Virgil? Virgil wasn’t really the prank type.

Then Remus noticed something really weird. Roman was wearing a crown.

When they were little, back when they were the same person, they wore a crown. After they split, for a while, they’d wear cardboard crowns and paper wreaths. But as they grew older, Roman and Remus decided against the crowns. For Remus, they brought back bad memories and stories he didn’t want to revisit. For Roman, the crowns always ended up falling off. Roman was full of restless energy—maybe it was a twin thing—and any hat or headgear was bound to wobble around and tumble to the floor. Remus was the same way. He tried wearing a dear skull to dinner and it fell into Virgil’s soup. Virgil was not impressed.

But now, Roman had a crown. A small golden crown perched on his head. Like it was glued to his scalp. Like Roman wanted a crown so bad he made it stay put, or he knew he wouldn’t move around enough to make it come off.

Something was definitely wrong.

Remus reared up to give Roman another kick, because he was getting answers. Then he noticed Roman’s eyes were open.

“You dork!” Remus yelled. “You’ve been awake this whole time? Why are you here if you’re just gonna ignore me?”

Roman’s eyes shifted over to him. He didn’t speak.

“Are you giving me the Silent Treatment?” Remus stuck out his bottom lip. “Rude! You visit just to act like I don’t exist? I thought princes have manners!”

Roman swallowed and whispered “Not visiting.”

“He speaks!” Remus paused. “Wait, what d’ya mean? You’re here, aren’t you?” He groaned. “Oh, is this another hallucination? I knew I shouldn’t have eaten those carrots—”

Roman shook his head slightly.

“What are you saying?” Remus stomped his foot. “If you don’t start talking sense, I’ll bash your skull in!” Remus summoned his mace and swung it from his hand, leering at Roman. “I’m gonna.”

Roman looked away.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Remus said, poking Roman hard in the leg with his mace.

That leg should have bled, thick and strong. Roman should have screamed like a girl and clutched the wound as the skin split and veins separated. Remus should have Sides at his door, patching Roman up and giving Remus dirty looks that weren’t the fun kind of dirty. Roman should be back the next day, sword in hand, and it would be Remus’ turn to bleed out, JanJan lecturing him as he tightened the bandages, asking why they couldn’t just leave each other alone.

That’s what should have happened.

But the mace stuck in Roman’s leg. No blood bubbled up around the points. Remus pulled it out with a squelching noise.

There was no damage.

“What?” Remus said aloud, prodding the area. Not a scratch. Even Roman’s clothes were intact. He’d sharpened that mace this morning, why wasn’t it—

A new outfit. A new crown. Makeup running down his face. The usual just-the-brothers-can-maim-each-other-rule no longer applying.

Remus dropped his mace. It clattered on the ground.

“No.”

Roman met his eyes and nodded.

“No, no, no.” Remus shook his head hysterically. “No! Nope! Not dealing with this!”

Roman exhaled and turned away again. Remus stared at him with wide eyes. This was a prank. A joke. It had to be! Sides didn’t just change, that wasn’t how this worked. Virgil switched, but Virgil was different. Roman was the fan favorite, the pretty boy, the good twin, everything Remus would never be.

“Jan?” Remus called, eyes trained on his brother. “Roman just fell into the living room and I think he might be a Dark Side now?”

He waited for Jan to respond. The Mindscape was quiet.

“JanJan?” Remus yelled at the top of his lungs.

No answer.

“Guess you’re not here,” Remus muttered bitterly. “Again.”

Great. He was alone in the Downstairs with a half-way comatose twin brother in a weird new outfit, that he couldn’t even stab!

“What happened to you?” Remus asked, not expecting an answer. “Did someone say something? I know the last video was a mess, but I thought y’all would figure it out. That’s what you do, right? Kiss and make up like in My Little Pony?” Remus blew a giant raspberry at Roman’s face. “I had things to do today and you completely messed up my schedule, so thanks a lot.”

Roman didn’t apologize. That tracked.

“You know what?” Remus asked, pacing back and forth. “You know what?”

He reached down and grabbed Roman’s face, squishing his cheeks and puckering his lips. “What?” he asked in a falsetto.

“I’m so glad you asked!” Remus released Roman’s face and stood up again. “I’m going to pay Upstairs a visit and see if I can pawn you off. You’re gonna be someone else’s problem, dearest brother-of-mine.”

Roman did not protest. Remus grabbed his mace off the floor and, swinging it joyfully, headed down the hall. His feet squelched on the carpet—it never really recovered from that cloud of blood, did it? The staircase was past the doors, a rickety set of spiral stairs perfect for pushing people down. Jan did that to Virgil once. It was hilarious.

Remus passed his own door first, a green slimy slab of putrid, hardened pus. ‘CREATIVITY’ was scratched into it with, Remus recalled, a double-bladed knife. The next door was Jan’s, made of dark burnished wood, a golden plaque proclaiming ‘DECEIT: Please Enter.’ The third door had no doorknob or keyhole, and the only marks were four long scratches down the front, like something had clawed it.

Remus deliberately ignored the blank, dirty patch of wallpaper where a fourth door used to be.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something move.

Remus whirled, mace at the ready. At first he didn’t see anything. It was just a stretch of ugly wallpaper with some unidentifiable stains and graffiti that yelled ‘EAT THE RICH’ in bold letters.

But one of the stains, a dark one in the center of the wall, was steadily growing wider. No, it wasn’t really a stain—it was a rip, a tear. The wallpaper peeled away, revealing—a door handle?

What?

Remus creeped forward, hand still on his mace. Despite himself, hope bloomed in his stomach. The door was a familiar shade of black. It was impossible, but—was Virgil coming back? No. He wouldn’t. Would he? Could he? And if he wasn’t, why as a door appearing on the wall?

Maybe it was a storage closet or something. Who summoned it, Jan? Ugh, if Jan was here and had just ignored Remus, he’d have a bed full of shaving cream tonight.

The door was getting larger, stretching until it reached over Remus’ head. The wallpaper folded around the corners of the door and was scored away along the edges. The gold doorknob rattled and clicked, a new keyhole right below it. Remus reached out and tried to turn the knob. It wouldn’t budge.

The whole door was black. On closer inspection, it wasn’t the same black as Virgil’s door. Virgil’s was iridescent and almost purple. This black was just matte black. Virgil’s door was paint on wood. This was—Remus touched the surface carefully—almost glassy in texture. Cool and smooth.

Then, under his fingers, red scribbled across the surface, looping around and tucking back into itself. A red square settled around the doorknob, a red stripe slashed across the door like a sash, and on that sash, black cursive etched out a name.

APATHY.

In little golden letters beneath, ROMAN SANDERS.

In even littler letters, DO NOT ENTER.

Remus pressed his fingers to his mouth, reading the words again. Apathy. Roman Sanders, do not enter. Apathy. Roman Sanders. Apathy, Roman. Roman.

A hysterical laugh bubbled in Remus’ throat. He stumbled to the opposite wall and slid down it, staring at the door. He blinked hard. It didn’t disappear. He ripped his eyeballs out, dusted them off, and popped them back in. The door was still there.

Apathy Roman.

“You little…” Remus laughed. “You little b*tch!”

He didn’t even mind that Thomas’ mind censored swears. He swore anyway. He swore and laughed until he was gasping for breath. He said every swear word he knew and some he was pretty sure he’d just made up. He laughed until his eyes watered. Was he complaining or celebrating? Remus didn’t know.

He didn’t know a lot of things. How did this happen? Was it permanent? Would Roman stay for a day, a month, a year, forever? Remus glanced toward the living room. Roman hadn’t moved from the floor. Well.

“Hey, turd!” Remus called. “You’ve got a room here, did you know that?”

Roman didn’t respond.

“Seriously? Don’t tell me you died while I was over here.” Remus walked back down the hall and poked Roman in the chest. “Get up. The door won’t open for me and I’m really curious what it looks like inside.”

Roman looked blankly up at Remus. Remus leered back. When that got no reaction, he tore off his nose and let blood drip down his face. Still nothing! Was Remus losing his touch or was Roman just that apathetic?

Apathy. Apathetic. Oh. Yeah, that made sense.

“Okay, I get it,” Remus said. “Your new gig is being a grumpy formless blob. Cool. Fine. But I’ve got business to do in the living room and you can’t just lie there forever. Get your tuchas moving and come check out your new digs.”

Roman looked away again.

“You’ve taken a vow of silence or something?” Remus flexed his fingers. “That’s irritating, I can’t read minds like Jan. Tell you what. Blink if you’re gonna get up and walk with me to your room, don’t blink if I’m gonna have to drag you down the hallway like a dead body.”

Roman didn’t blink. Either he wanted to be dragged or couldn’t be bothered to move his eyelids. Good enough for Remus. He grabbed Roman’s ankles and tugged him down the hall.

It was slow going. Roman was heavy and he kept getting stuck on the carpet. Remus tried his best to make conversation. He was used to talking to people who ignored him, so it was pretty easy. It was like that scene in Inside Out, he thought vaguely. Huh, that was weird. Usually his similes were more X-rated.

Wait.

If Roman wasn’t Creativity anymore—did that mean Remus was—

Remus stopped dead in the middle of the hallway, his brother in one hand and his mace in the other.

Was he the only Creativity now?

Was he like Him?

No. No, he wasn’t. He’d know. He could tell if something was different. Remus hadn’t changed. He was still demented and disgusting and delectable.

But wasn’t that worse?

Thomas…Thomas didn’t have Roman anymore. No flights of fancy or unicorn horns. Just asphyxiation and zombies and everything in between. Creativity was no longer balanced in a yin-yang black-white good-evil situation. It was all Remus.

He’d always wanted more control. More attention. To really have a say in Tommy’s decisions, to not be shunted aside and sidelined because his ideas were too ‘mature.’ He’d always wanted to knock Roman down a peg, kick him a few rungs down the social ladder.

Just...not like this.

He didn’t want Roman to fall off entirely. He didn’t want Roman to leave the stage. He didn’t want Roman gone.

Remus couldn’t—he couldn’t be the only Creativity. He was no good! Everyone said so! They’d probably blame him for Roman’s fall even though, for once, it wasn’t his fault, and Virgil would hate him and Jan would finally leave and—

There was a light tap on his leg. Remus jerked out of his thoughts, glancing down at Roman. Roman’s eyes were a little wider than normal. He looked worried.

“Okay?” Roman asked quietly.

Are you okay?

“Of course,” Remus said, waggling his eyebrows and ignoring the pang in his chest. “Let’s go.” He grabbed Roman’s arm and swung him around his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. Without the friction from the floor, Remus was at Roman’s door in seconds. He reached out and jiggled the handle. Still locked.

“You’re gonna have to open this,” Remus told Roman, twisting his head around to look at him.

Roman sighed quietly. His finger twitched, and the door swung open. Remus barged in and tossed Roman on the bed. It had black and grey sheets with a red quilt and was the only thing in the room. The walls and floor were bare plaster. It looked like a prison cell.

“Jeez,” Remus complained, “not very stylish, bro. Would it kill you to add some color?”

Roman was already curled up on the bed, not bothering to cover himself with sheets. He stared at the wall.

“Fine, I’ll decorate.” Remus snapped his fingers and added a large mirror with claw feet, a few grotesque paintings on the walls, and a knitted carpet the color of dried blood.

“Perfect.” Remus glanced at the still motionless figure on the bed. “Look, I’m gonna call in some backup, okay? Don’t die while I’m gone.”

Roman closed his eyes and seemed to fall asleep immediately. Remus watched him for a second before bolting out of the room. The door banged on the wall as he threw it open.

“Jan!”

Why wasn’t he here?

Remus stomped down the hallway toward Jan’s door. If JanJan wasn’t here, he’d just break into his room and make Jan pay attention.

As he passed the handle-less door, he paused. The food flap was locked but Remus knew the combination, he could—

No. He wasn’t that desperate. Not yet.

Instead, Remus kicked the snaky boy’s door open. Ha, joke’s on JanJan for letting Remus come in whenever. A snake hissed at him from its terrarium. Remus hissed back.

It would be pretty much impossible for Jan to ignore this. All Sides knew if someone else was in their room. Remus usually resented that. It made pranking harder. But today it came in handy.

“Oh, JanJan!” Remus stepped toward the bookshelf. “Sure would be a shame if all these lovely volumes were dumped into a vat of motor oil and set on fire!”

No angry snake appeared. Remus kicked over a end table and tossed some slime on the bed.

“Seriously, Jan,” Remus continued, releasing some crickets in the closet. “I’d get in here if I were you!”

There was a loud clang outside. Footsteps. Remus ran to the door and saw Jan, capelet flying behind him and face flushed, running down the stairs.

“There you are!” Remus complained. “Took you long enough.”

“I—” Jan stumbled to a stop in front of him, bending over and panting. “There—Remus—”

“What’s up, Double Dee?” Remus glanced at the open door behind him. “Um, I’d be careful going inside if I were you—”

“Remus,” Jan repeated, finally catching his breath. He straightened. There was panic in his eyes. “Remus, we—we have a situation.”

“Yeah, no sh*t, Sherlock!” Remus snapped. “While you were off playing nice Upstairs, that situation fell into our living room.”

“What?” Jan’s mouth dropped open. “Roman—what?”

Remus grimaced. “You’d better come see this.”

Next. Masterlist.

General taglist:

@the17thmeatball

@most-likely-fandom

@csi-baker-street-babes

@caffeinated-cryptid

Valley of the Dolls taglist:

@cluttered-wonder

@wouldnt-you-like-that

@gotta-love-alejandra

@mihaela-tbg

@tombombadi1

@kaefish

@not-enough-sketchbooks

@marshmallow-fluffy

@confusedhost

@ghostlygalactics

@a-salty-alto

@youthquake-in-the-making

@itriedandimtired

@aromantic-karamatsu

@fear-is-nameless

@somehow-i-got-an-account

Ask to be included or removed!

116 notes · View notes

chasingforeverandaday · 3 years

Note

For the end of year fic asks 1, 5 and 7. Please and thank you.

1. What’s your personal favorite thing you wrote this year?

I’m completely torn between lost and insecure, you found me and well you must be a girl with moves like that. Because on one hand, the first one was my project for Big Bang that I worked on for months, pouring my heart and soul into every word to do justice to this grand idea I had in my head. I’m so proud of myself for getting this monstrosity done, but holy shit did it take so much out of me creatively.

And then less than a month later, here’s this fic that was so much fun to write and develop over the course of like three days??? Mood wise it feels like the direct opposite of the Braavos AU, all fun and flirty. I got to nerd about hockey as I was writing (even if that didn’t actually show up in the piece a ton), and it helped me jumpstart my will to write again after feeling so drained from lost and insecure.

5. Which of your fics do you wish was more successful?

Oh god, probably give me back my reason to believe. Which isn’t to say it wasn’t popular, but it was the longest one shot I’ve ever written, and I guess in my brain that meant it should be more popular than some of my smaller one shots. But it was also a season 8 rewrite (which a lot of people have tried their hand at) so I get it. However, I still find it so weird that my most popular fic ever is the first one I posted in this fandom (must have been some kind of kiss) because looking at it now I would change so, so, so many things.

7. What’s your favorite piece of description or narration?

Probably this long ass section on touch in the second chapter of lost and insecure. It’s basically an ode to how easily they fall back into each other’s orbit, and I just loved writing these tiny little instances of contact.

Gendry reacquaints himself with sharing his hard earned personal space with another, and privately decides if she had been anyone but Arya, he would have less than politely asked her to leave after the first week. But she is Arya, he’s never truly been able to deny her much, and honestly? It’s nice, having her here all the time, to talk to and laugh with, to trust implicitly. Even if she’s touched him more than every other person he’s met put together over the span of a few weeks.

Of course, Arya has always been a particularly tactile person, and her blindness seems to have elevated that trait immeasurably. She’s taken to brushing her fingers along his arms throughout the day, almost as if she’s reminding herself that he’s here in a more physical way than simply listening to him breathe. Her steps are so silent, he never hears her coming, his only warning the tingling of gooseflesh on his arms the instant before contact.

Every night she links his ankles with hers under the table while they eat whatever they’ve scrounged up for dinner, happily chatting along like the mere contact of her skin doesn’t light his insides aflame.

When they leave the forge to shop or barter with the other merchants, she keeps a firm grip on his arm or hand, pulling him along as she wanders in excitement. He knows they must look amusing, his much larger frame reluctantly trailing after the tiny ball of energy, but he’s hardly going to admonish her, too irrationally nervous he will lose her again in a crowd should they not have a hold on each other.

Overall, he thinks the nearness he truly enjoys comes after she’s changed into her night clothes and pokes him until he sits on the bed, plopping down in front of him and handing him the comb he’d bargained for at the market after she’d complained at least three times about how tangled her hair was getting. She’d forced him to learn how to tease out the knots in her curls, and only pinched him hard the once when he commented that she should just chop it all off again if she didn’t want to deal with it. He’d surprised them both when he’d leaned down to peck the top of her head with a kiss, immensely glad she couldn’t see the wine red blush staining his cheeks afterwards.

During this quiet ritual before they blow out the candles, she teaches him to plait her hair back so it will not snarl in her sleep. According to Arya, he is far more considerate in his taming of her locks than either her mother or Sansa, both of whom would grow easily frustrated at her squirming. Knowing how she used to be, always vibrating with the need to move, he can understand that, but this Arya he is growing to know now understands the peacefulness of silence.

Eventually she asks him to help her with her hair in the mornings, because she tells him his fingers are so much more clever and precise than her own. He knows she’s lying, anyone who’s ever seen her hold a bow knows that’s not true, but he agrees nevertheless. This type of closeness, one where he’s helping her with something so commonplace and casual, lets him pretend for only a few minutes that they are exactly who they present themselves as: a simple blacksmith and the woman he makes his home with.

But they both know their lives will never be that simple.

#my writing #writing ask #gendrya #lost and insecure you found me #well you must be a girl with moves like that #give me back my reason to believe

12 notes · View notes

just-the-mage · 3 years

Text

Writing Habits

Rules: Bold/color the things that you relate to and then tag some people to play.

Tagged by: @anomaliewrites thank you! <3

Tagging: @iris-ymir @umbralich @eremiss @zuriel-aluette @phaedra-mero @hangedemperor

I write: daily | most days | a few times a week | a few times a month | random

Creativity comes at me sometimes when I least expect it. It will stay with me for a time, and then dissipate in the face of other distractions (Netflix, video games, etc.). The only thing that can reliably keep me writing for an extended period of time is if someone is reliant on me to continue a narrative-the reason why RP works for me but writing solo usually doesn’t.

This habit is based entirely on RP partners-time zones tend to make it so that I get to read their RP right around when I wake up, which jumpstarts my writing...stuff. Brain parts. Creative juices? So that usually gets me writing.

'A complete section’ has a different meaning for me as opposed to others-usually when I write I end up writing an entire ‘rp entry’, which can span a few pages (I never count words tbh lol) or be as short as a couple paragraphs. I just write till my part in the RP is done and I can hand it off to the next character.

I tend to write scenes: in chronological order with no skipping | mostly in order but with some filler/skipping | whatever scene I feel like | who knows what’s gonna come out????

I’m a pretty straightforward person.

Dialogue is an easy winner here. I love writing character dialogue, and I feel like it shows through in my writing pretty frequently. I like giving my characters different voices and different personalities through the ways that they speak.

I only write on my phone if I have to. Computer is *way* easier and faster.

When I take a break from writing, it usually: lasts a few days | a few weeks | a few months | it’s kind of random

As you all can see, my blog is in disarray and I haven’t written anything in *months*. I’m a mess, someone help me...

Video games is a huge one here, I play way too much honestly.

I’m terrible about writing tbh, but I love it so much. I just get drained so often..maybe getting my depression medicated will help with this. Who knows..but that’s probably a ways off as well.

#ooc #personal #meme #writing #writing habits

3 notes · View notes

smxmuffinpeddling · 6 years

Text

“Mei, I told you I can cook whatever, you don’t have to worry about it!” Yuzu said as she pushed the cart through the soup aisle at the grocery store. Mei walked ahead of her, considering cans of soup.

“You’re working just as hard as I am, there’s no sense in burdening yourself with all of the housework as well.”

“Yeah, but canned soup? I can teach you to make regular soup!”

Mei narrowed her eyes at the subtle dig that she had to be taught anything. “I like the clear instructions.”

“I can give you clear instructions!” Yuzu insisted.

“Saying ‘a handful of this and that’ is not clear instruction.” Mei dumped a bunch of cans into the cart with finality. Yuzu chuckled in defeat. Even when Mei was being stubborn, she was still cute. She almost crashed into another shopping cart while thinking about how much she loved her girlfriend of several years and how she wanted to spend the rest of her life with her.

Yuzu patted her pocket, looking for that reassuring box-shaped lump that also inspired an odd mix of dread and excitement and an entire bouquet of feelings that was just so much that Yuzu couldn’t even wrap her mind around actually whipping the complicated thing out to ask Mei to marry her and-- it wasn’t there.

The ring box she had been carrying around for the last few weeks was missing from her pocket.

Her heart stopped beating for five entire seconds.

“Yuzu, you dropped something.” Mei was bending down to pick something up.

Was Yuzu stuck in a dream? A nightmare? Where time seemed to be going slow and fast at the same time and her limbs were made of spaghetti and instead of resuming beating her heart just did this weird lurching thing a dozen times in a row like it was drowning and was this what a panic attack felt like?? The last time she felt this paralyzed was when she had accidentally sent Mei nudes--

“You dropped your… Ring box?” Mei held the white velvety box in the palm of her hand. Mei peered at it curiously, then looked back to Yuzu with an eyebrow quirked up in curiosity. In the span of that time Yuzu’s hands had found themselves buried in her hair in distress and all the blood had been drained from her body.

“Th-That’s that uh, um--” she stammered.

Not caring that Yuzu has been legally dead for about thirty seconds, Mei opened the box without preamble. Yuzu screamed silently in place. Mei seemed to be having a staring contest with the pair of engagement rings that presented themselves to her proudly. Sweat poured out of Yuzu like a waterfall in the meantime.

Mei slowly swallowed. “How long have you had this?”

“Eh?” Yuzu squeaked. “Three… weeks,” she breathed hesitantly.

Mei continued staring at the ring and she released the very longest sigh ever from her lips, and that was saying something. “Yes.”

Yuzu’s brain short-circuited. “What?”

“Yes,” Mei said like it was the most obvious thing in the world

Yuzu couldn’t take much more of her body trying to fail on her. Her arms flapped to jumpstart her brain. “W-w-wait A MINUTE LET ME ASK THE QUESTION FIRST!” she yelled, pretty much drawing the attention of whoever else wanted soup that evening.

Mei’s eyes were shining with tears when she looked at Yuzu again. “Hurry up.”

Yuzu was hyperventilating and her head was blank. “Mei, will you… wife? With me?” Yuzu had forgotten how language worked.

“Yes,” Mei shot at her impatiently once more.

Yuzu gasped at that, reaching towards Mei to beg her for mercy. “I’m sorry. I screwed this up so bad,” she laughed in clear distress. Tears were gathering in her eyes and she reached up to wipe them in embarrassment, but Mei stopped her. She took her hand and kissed it before getting down on one knee. “Eh?” Yuzu said in confusion as Mei presented the rings Yuzu had bought for Mei to Yuzu.

Mei’s dark eyes held Yuzu’s with the strength and surety of a goddess. “Yes.”

“Ehh?!” Yuzu put a hand over her mouth in shock at these unexpected turn of events. She was still crying and didn’t know how to stop at this point.

“I will say yes to you a million more times,” Mei declared lovingly. “Growing up, I never even imagined that I could ever experience a love like what you've shared with me. You are everything I never knew I needed and I'm so proud to be yours.” Mei smiled at her. “Yuzu, please marry me.”

Mei’s hand and warmth grounded Yuzu’s mind to the moment. She took in how serious Mei’s face was, and how she’d never seen her more determined or sure of something in her life, and why did Yuzu even hesitate to pop the question? The ring wasn’t complicated at all; she just wanted to be with the woman in front of her for the rest of her life. Hands trembling, Yuzu hiccuped, “Yes. Oh my god! Yes, of course I will!” With cans of soup as their witnesses and scattered applause from the other two people around them (who probably wanted them to get out of the way so they could get to their soup.) They quickly slipped the rings on each other’s hands. Yuzu grasped Mei’s face and pulled her up to kiss her sweetly right there in front of everyone without a care in the world. The kiss lasted for only a moment before they hugged each other tightly, faces buried in each other’s necks.

“Were you afraid I would say no?” Mei’s voice was muffled in her neck, amused and annoyed and happy somehow rolled together.

“I was just waiting for the perfect moment!” Yuzu replied in embarrassment. In perspective, it all seemed so silly now.

Someone was pushing their cart out of the way so they could squeeze by. “Alright, could you two cool it down already?” the random person grumbled as they reached past their joined heads to get at a can.

Yuzu managed to separate herself from Mei to point at the man. “Don’t you dare talk to my wife that way!” she asserted so loudly and confidently, it was almost like she hadn’t forgotten how words worked just two minutes ago. She turned back to Mei with an excited grin. “I’ve always wanted to say that!” She had never seen Mei look at her with such awe and such hunger.

Getting through the checkout lane was torturously slow (and uncomfortable for anyone around the newly engaged couple because of all the sexual tension). They ran to their car hand in hand, cans of soup abandoned in the parking lot in their haste before Mei was shoving Yuzu into the cramped backseat to officially consummate their engagement.

The man who Yuzu had yelled at before was sitting in the car parked next to them and couldn’t get his car to start. “Oh no. OH NO.”

#nobody asked for this lol #but hey I wrote something #citrus manga #citrus anime #fluff #yuzu being a useless lesbian #peddled muffins #yuzumei

137 notes · View notes

voidingintotheshout · 3 years

Text

I am just going to rant.

Note: I will not edit this until tomorrow. All mistakes are phonetic and easily rectified.

I am Muslim, but I am drunk. My best friend‘s mother just died and he was drunk and it shocked me because he never drinks. He tends to have an addictive personality and so it freaked me out that my friend who hasn’t drank any alcohol at all in five years is slurry and stumbling around his deceased mother‘s trailer in South Carolina trying to keep it together.

I am worried about my friend, but more worried, like the rideshare driver that I am about being a good steward to people and reminding him to set his alarm now so that he doesn’t oversleep for the appointment with the funeral director tomorrow. I have the high holy day Muslim prayer tomorrow at the mosque and it is very difficult and or unlikely for me to get there on time. I’m feeling very guilty because I haven’t drank almost anything in nearly a year and yet I am drinking tonight, in the wee hours of the morning before the holy Muslim prayer of Jumah; now, I sit here with my head moving further than my body does, feeling out of it and disoriented after my second large glass of Arak.

It’s been such a strange day, I sit here feeling drunk. I woke up and I had a car with a nearly flat tire and a dead battery. The kindness of a stranger helped jumpstart my battery and give me some very good advice. I pushed back my physical therapy appointment for my bad shoulder and drove across the city to the one reputable used tire place to refill my tire. Now, I have a car with a working battery and a tire that is not leaking air and, after doing my laundry I call my friend, expecting it to be more of the same with his mother, circling the drain having more days of sleeplessness only to be thrown out of my universe and be told that no, she’s dead. She died this morning. I didn’t tell you earlier because I knew you would call. Some thing that I almost forgot to do.

Why am I telling you this? I don’t care. Only three people will ever fucking re-blog this. No one will even read this far. Anyway, I was in a completely different headspace for most of his hour and a half call. I wanted to crack jokes and cheer him up but how do you crack jokes about someone having their mother die in his arms? How do you make a funny joke about a woman peeing herself and then having hospice rush her to the funeral home? What witty one-liners do you use for that? How do you feel of use in a situation where you were 600 miles away from someone and you can’t do any goddamn thing to actually help them other than just feel impotent and powerless on the other end of a phone line. What the fuck do you do? Seeing your friend who has always struggled with addictions get drunk off of a concoction of very delicious sounding margaritas in the trailer that had here too for been occupied by his mother, the last surviving parent. Now here I am dealing with the fact that he is living some thing I will have to live through very soon enough when my second biological parent dies and I am left with virtually no family outside of an aunt who I talk to once every two or three years. I feel like he is living my future. His future is filled with drunkenly stumbling around a trailer that is not his, feeling impotent and powerless trying to focus on anything else other than the fact that his mother is never going to have a conversation with him again. I am trying to have a conversation with him try not to remind myself that I will once again have to prepare myself for some thing that no one can prepare themselves for: the death of someone you truly love. In this case, my mom. He starts getting drunk, and so do I. I just want to feel numb.

I don’t want to think about how I needed to get new clothes yesterday because I got too fat for most of my T-shirts. I don’t want to think about the fact that the people at the physical therapy place think I’m weird because I like obscure Russian movies and I don’t have anything in common with normal people. I don’t wanna think about the fact that my friends think that I am irritating every once in a while because I have ADHD and severe depression and anxiety which are comorbidities with ADHD. I don’t wanna think of myself as a burden to my friends. I don’t like thinking about myself as an annoyance to people who I love, but that haunting Spectre in the back of my brain reminds me that that may be exactly what it is. I may be ultimately just a burden who stays a burden, alone, and then dies. That may be all I accomplish, outside of worthless posts on here that few people will ever read, like this one.

I’m laying on my bed at 2:40 in the morning and one of the bits of clothing I got yesterday today. A new T-shirt that ironically says kindness matters but, what can I say? I’ve always been a person who felt like that slogan was about how I should treat other people but I could never figure out how to treat myself that way. With other people I can always give them the benefit of the doubt that they have their own shit to work through and that they are doing their best but I know myself too well. I know I’m not doing my best. Might be kind someone who is ultimately not trying hard enough to do their best? It seems like a waste of time to try to support someone who you know is going to fail. Someone who you know isn’t giving everything they have. Someone who is in hustling enough to actually reach the finish line. You feel like you’re just pumping someone up that you know he’s not gonna actually make it. Someone who you know you’re gonna have to be there telling them that they tried their best. Again. That’s how I feel like it is like to cheer myself up to pep myself up. I know it’s just proceeding telling myself that I’m gonna get them next time. Next time my story will be published. Next time I’ll have enough confidence to actually set up the profile on the dating app. Next time, the date with a nice guy is going to be a reality instead of just some kind of daydream fantasy that I entertain myself with while I shuttle people around who could care less about my existence.

Here I am, at nearly 3 o’clock in the morning with a phone that is nearly dead, my friend is probably getting ready for bed, too drunk to really think much about his mother who is going to need to make funeral plans at the funeral parlor tomorrow. My life will be completely uneventful. It is always uneventful. That is a blessing, I realize, but it is the stagnation that makes me feel like what is the pointing going on living when I am just going to spend it in nothingness? Why bother doing anything when it’s just gonna end up being made siphoning resources away from the poor and taking up space until eventually I just disappear and nothingness, forgotten buried somewhere, wherever.

What is life but just a waystation on the way to death, trying to build up enough supporters and memories and accomplishments so that the sting of death doesn’t hurt as much. It’s like running for class president. You’re trying, in the limited time you have to garner as much accomplishments and support as you can before you run out of time and you’ll be judged as either good enough or not good enough. That’s life. At least that’s how it seems to me at nearly 3 o’clock in the morning right before I’m supposed to do Muslim prayer, and I still have a little bit left on my second glass of Arak.

What am I even doing? I’m a gay Muslim. Why even bother? I feel so pathetic every single time I find another Muslim. Like I found a Muslim lady in my building from the United Arab Emirates. She seems so nice! She like to read! Something in common! I didn’t even bother to tell her where I lived or to introduce myself because I knew, but I didn’t know, but I assumed, that when she found out I was gay she would think of me is disgusting and an idiot for ever thinking I belong at the Muslim table and that I should just stop wasting my time trying to appeal to a God who I would never be good enough for. I like writing this year because I know that most of the people reading this are either non-religious, non-Muslims, or gay and so all of you reading this also think I’m stupid for ever trying to appeal to a God who I believe in but who probably will never be satisfied with me. Some of you reading this will probably feel, rightly so, that it is hubris for me to imply that I know the will of God and therefore I should just try to be the best version of myself that I can. That is probably the helpful advice. Unfortunately, I don’t feel like helpful advice right now.

That’s the problem. I feel like I want to punish myself for the piss poor excuse for life I have created even though, I don’t know what I was expecting? I guess I was expecting to have it all. I wanted to be surrounded by friends and a gorgeous caring boyfriend and a wildly successful riding career. I wanted my ADHD to not be an issue so that I could’ve accomplished all of those things with all of the silent work in the background that those goals actually require. I wanted to be happy. I wanted to be satisfied. I wanted to be able to throw my money around buying useless garbage like expensive meals that I could’ve made at home and not even thought about how much they cost. I wanted to have enough money to be one of those wasteful gay people they can throw their money on garbage on Etsy that they don’t really need, expensive bespoke clothes that they could get cheaper elsewhere, and restaurant quality meals that are going to provide fleeting joy and are ultimately just expensive fuel for the body. I want to be that kind of a person. I want to be someone wasteful. Burns the money that could feed the poor on their on alter to themselves. I want to be that kind of person, but I have always somehow fucked it up. I want to be that type of person, who can create this world about making themselves the best and most beautiful and amazing thing in the world and insisting that everyone else treat them as this beautiful jewel even though they’re really just some random fucking asshole who will live, and then die. I could never do it. I mean there are people Who devote their entire lives to helping the poor. People who Sean the television and the Internet and spend their free time writing because they are actually writers and they love writing, even if they never publish anything and their contribution to the world is thousands of pages of glorious fanfiction on AO3. They are more writers than I will ever be with my stories that no one reads. The pain of being jealous of a couple in what is clearly an unhappy marriage because at least they were in love once, some thing I can never claim.

I take another sip of the alcohol, almost wishing that I could be videotaped and have this monologue in this pathetic scene where a 40 year old fat lonely man records a drunken monologue in his studio apartment at 3 AM. I wish they could show that at the mosque right before I arrive so everyone would be able to see that I am unworthy. Why do I want this? Is it sadism? Masochism? No. It’s a more toxic reason. I want everyone else to know so I can justify my own feelings of self hatred that are ultimately self created. It’s easier for me to imagine that the whole world sees me as terrible and pathetic than to imagine and except the terrible, terrible truth that I am actually a really great guy who is accomplished a lot. The terrible truth that I am totally fine and accomplishing a lot I just have depression that doesn’t let me see it. It’s so much more horrible to know that all of those negative self feelings are just in your head, you know? It’s so much harder to except that they are all in your head then to except that they are true. You almost want all of those negative self feelings to be true so it’s not just you being cruel to yourself for no goddamn reason. That’s the motherfucking horrible thing about being alive sometimes. Being a person with all of the advantages in a prosperous society like America and still having the nerve to not be happy. It’s like an insult to all of the people in the world that are struggling with not enough.

0 notes

emilythenormal · 3 years

Text

I've had a day.

Okay, so I started taking medication for depression and anxiety about a month ago, and had to adjust to a different pill because the other one was bothering my stomach. This new pill gave me a ton of energy and I made the mistake of taking it later in the afternoon because my sleep schedule was off to begin with, and the meds made me stay up until like 5 am so I'd sleep all day and then have this weird experience of being awake at night while my brain was yelling at me to sleep, and I'd just be in this neutral state where I'd just lay in bed for hours scrolling through social media. This went on for three weeks and I didn't leave my apartment once, not even to stand outside on the patio. I also have pretty severe OCD and that doesn't help anything. So for the last couple of days I've been trying to take the pill earlier and earlier in the day, as soon as I wake up, so I get the energy boost I need to function. Today, I planned to pick up groceries, then make lunch, then work on my homework that had been neglected because I straight up wasn't keeping up with my classes...but my car wouldn't start. It's a hybrid and sitting in the cold parking garage for so long drained the battery completely. Now I'm waiting for BCAA to come jumpstart my car but they're not gonna be here for a while so my entire schedule has been pushed back by many hours and I'm not gonna be able to do as much homework as I needed to and I. AM. FRUSTRATED. AT. MYSELF. But also this is how depression and anxiety can be so detrimental to your life so I'm trying to tell myself that I'm doing all I can and I can handle whatever comes, which is not something I would have told myself before, so at least I know the meds are working!

In conclusion take your meds but also pay attention to the symptoms because they can be wacky.

#millennial problems #first world problems #em rants #depression #anxiety #real ocd #medication

0 notes

tipsycad147 · 5 years

Text

8 Ideas To Inspire Your Magic

Avery Hart

This post may contain affiliate links. Please read my Disclaimer for more info.

I know everyone loves the idea of witches who are super structured and committed to their practice. In our minds, the ideal witch is doing magic all the time, casting spells every few days, working with gods, doing magic every day, meditating like a boss, this witch supposedly has it all together. The problem is, I’ve never met one of these witches!

I’m sure they exist, somewhere, but as far as I can tell, the majority of witches fall into a very different camp. We do magic when we need it and are sometimes good and sometimes not about our daily magical practice. We might not meditate every day (or let's be honest, ever) and that’s IF our lives aren’t insanely busy at the moment. If things do get crazy busy? You can kiss the vast majority of that goodbye.

To a lot of people, in their minds, this makes them a bad witch. They don’t have that ideal practice so obviously, they’re just not giving it enough attention and being lazy. More often than not though, this isn’t the case! Our modern lives are busy and full of distraction. We’ve got jobs, and school, and partners, and kids, and hobbies, and friends, and, and, and… There’s hardly any time to breathe in between all of the other stuff we do, much less sit down for a half hour ritual!

I'm here to tell you that this is ok. Your life is important and unless you are planning to devote your entire life to witchcraft then nobody expects you to be pursuing it like it’s your Ph.D.

If you’ve been struggling with general life burnout and a lack of magical time, this is the blog post for you. Below you’ll find 8 ideas to inspire you to make your life a little more magical.

1. Do something simple

I know, this isn’t exactly groundbreaking but hear me out. A lot of the time when we’re discouraged about doing magic, we feel like we don’t have enough time to do magic that “counts”. This idea that magic has to take a lot of time or be drawn out to count as magic is unfortunately widespread. Have you ever wanted to do a spell and then when you realised you only had 10 minutes just decided to do it later and forgot all about it? Yeah? Quit that. Instead of putting off the spell until you have enough time, do an abbreviated version of it right now. 10 minutes of witchcraft may not be as potent as an hour-long ritual, but it’s still a hell of a lot more potent than not doing anything at all!

I don’t care how small your window of time is if you have ten minutes you can squeeze in a quick candle spell. In five minutes, you can charge a sigil or brew a cup of magical tea. In one minute you can grab a crystal to charge in your palm while you’re rushing out the door and if you only have 30 seconds you can pause, breathe in an intention that you want for your day and breathe out whatever is blocking you from getting it. Stop putting off magic because you don’t have enough time to do something big, the little stuff counts and it adds up to a life that is absolutely filled with magic!

2. Learn something brand new

Sometimes, our separation from magic is due to getting bored with our normal practice. I know, it’s practically sacrilege to say that magic can be boring but if you’re stuck doing the same routine over and over and over, trust me, it can lose that magical spark real quick. If boredom is what’s stopping you from practicing witchcraft, shake things up a bit! Go out and learn something totally new, whether that’s sigils magic, a new form of divination, or a technique you’ve never tried before, get out of your comfort zone and find something that makes you feel excited about your practice again!

3. Hang out with a witchy friend

If you’re just feeling uninspired about your craft, sometimes it can take a little bit of an outside nudge to get back into gear. One thing that nobody likes to admit about the craft is that sometimes it can feel really isolating. Chances are, the majority of your friends and family are not witches (if they are I need you to spill the secret to making that happen). This may not seem like such a bad thing at first but eventually, it can really wear on you. The people closest to you don’t share your worldview, your spiritual leanings, and many of them probably don’t even believe magic is real! Having to keep those things to yourself all the time can be incredibly draining and demoralising.

The solution is to make time to get out and be with like-minded people, grab your witchy friends and go grab coffee, loiter in your local metaphysical shop together, or hang out in a plant nursery and gush about how many of those adorable little herb plants you want.

4. No witchy friends? Go make some!

For those of you who are lacking witchy friends of any kind, figuring out where to find witches can be a struggle. Here are a few ways to get out there and start meeting like minded people.

Use meetup.com, search for local groups using terms such as witch, pagan, metaphysical, meditation, shaman, energy, goddess, and magic.

Check out your local metaphysical shop, crystal shop, or boutique herb shop. If they offer classes or social gatherings of any kind, consider attending.

Check out online groups. Facebook is full of pagan groups and if you’re in a very small town, online may be the most accessible way for you to go. Also check out what kinds of groups are present for your area though, many local temples and pagan groups host their meeting info on facebook.

Ask around. Again, hit up those metaphysical shops and ask the people who work there if they know of any groups you could join. The people working in these places are often really plugged into the local community and can help you get a foot in the door.

If it’s safe, talk to your friends and family about it as well. While they may not share your beliefs, they might know someone who does!

5. Pick up one new witchcraft habit

Humans are creatures of habit. The vast majority of our lives are dictated by a complex series of habits that we hardly ever even think about! If you really want to make witchcraft a daily thing, you have to make it a habit.

Habit forming can seem complex if you’re new to it but with a little bit of knowledge about how habits form, it becomes incredibly simple. Habits are made up of 3 key pieces. If you want to establish a new habit, you have to have all 3 pieces in place or the habit won't stick.

#1: The Cue - The cue is what tells your brain it’s time to initiate your new habit. This cue needs to be something you are already doing every day, maybe it’s right after breakfast or your morning shower, maybe you use the moment you get back to your desk after lunch, or maybe you work it into your nightly routine. Whatever you choose as your cue, make sure it’s something you already do every day and make sure that you use the same cue every time.

#2: The Habit - This is the actual habit that you want to create. Whether it’s writing in your journal, meditating for 3 minutes, lighting a candle for your gods, or stirring an intention into your coffee, this is when you want to perform whatever action you’re trying to incorporate into your daily routine.

#3: The Reward - The reward is a crucial step in habit formation! Lack of reward is the primary reason why new habits fail to persist. You absolutely must follow your new habit with something that makes you feel good. Now, for many of you, this reward will be built in. Maybe your reward is the caffeine you get from your now magical coffee, maybe it’s the sense of peace and calm you get from meditating, maybe it’s just the chance to get a moment of quiet in your workday but whatever it is it needs to be consistent. If you’re the kind of person who sometimes feels great after meditation and sometimes doesn’t, then that feeling cannot be your reward! You’ll have to pick something else to reward yourself with. Even if the reward is smiling to yourself and giving yourself a quick “Awesome job!” after completing your new habit, you must find some way to end the habit on a positive note. The last thing to keep in mind, this reward needs to be instantaneous! Don’t reward your habit with the promise of chocolate later in the day, if you want the habit to stick have the chocolate as soon as you’re done.

6. Get out in nature

Sometimes the bustle of life just kind of drowns out the magic. If you’ve ever gotten to the point where you’re so worn thin that you couldn’t have felt the energies necessary to work magic even if you wanted to, you know what I’m talking about. There are times when it feels like that world of magic that we all love so deeply is about a million miles away. When this happens, one of the best ways to reconnect is to get outside. You don’t have to carve out a ton of time to go out and be by yourself in nature, even just 10-15 minutes of walking with a friend in the park can really help to reconnect you to your witchy roots. Get out, experience the raw natural world around you and don’t try to force anything. If all you can do is take a few minutes to appreciate some pretty trees and get moving, that’s plenty. You don’t have to reach a state of ultra-connectedness on this walk, just get out and experience it without needing to rush off somewhere or battling distractions!

7. Spend some time curating witchy music

Music can be an amazing mood modulator. Creating a playlist of nothing but music that makes you feel really witchy can be a great way to jumpstart your witchy mood anytime you want to. It doesn’t have to be stereotypical pagan music, you can skip the Celtic music if it doesn’t make you feel like a witch, and Stevie Nicks does not have to have a place on your playlist unless it makes you feel magical. Personally, I love listening to instrumental guitar music like Chon or putting on some Florence + The Machine. The only thing that you need to take into consideration here is whether or not it makes you feel witchy! Whether it’s rap, top 40’s, or Gregorian chanting, it just needs to get you into a magical mood.

8. Re-read your favourite witchcraft book, or pick up a new one!

When I’m really feeling stuck in my craft this is my go-to. I’m a big reader and find that my moods and interests are often very responsive to what I’m reading at the moment. If you have a favourite witchcraft book that you love, pick it up and re-read it! If you’re not big on re-reading, find something new. It doesn’t have to be a “how to” manual about the craft, choosing fiction, memoirs, or even historical accounts can be so inspiring! Below I’ve listed some of my most recent favourites in case you need a recommendation to get you started.

The Physick Book Of Deliverance Dane by Katherine Howe - This book is a fictional account of a modern day witch discovering her magical heritage. It pulls heavily from pre-modern American witchcraft and is a very fun read for those of you who like witchy fiction.

Witches Of America by Alex Mar - Witches of America is a memoir of the authors exploration of American witchcraft. She explores a myriad of subcultures including Feri, the origins of Wicca, and Thelema all while weaving a compelling narrative of personal growth.

A Great And Terrible Beauty by Libba Bray - The first in a trilogy of novels, this time set in 1895 England. This is a far less traditional approach to fictional magic but the magic, intruige, and danger that underpin the story make it a gripping tale and no less inspiring for the modern day with.

https://thetravelingwitch.com/blog/2018/5/24/8-ideas-to-inspire-your-magic

0 notes

wishingfornever · 5 years

Text

12/24/2017 – No Contact: Upswing at Work

Today was good. Or yesterday was, rather. Saw Diana again and ended up working with her. She gave me a ride home. I want to ask her if she’s single and try to get something started but I’ll text her on my next day off. She’s been nice, but I’m aware I can get annoying. I think she’s fucking hilarious so I’d rather not have her pull an Esther and stop talking to me.

Current time is 1:47. It’s late. Adela is already in bed. I… pigged out today. Had a bunch of candy and chips. I REALLY shouldn’t have, but I was in such an upbeat mood. Like, I was super energetic. I felt a bit drained… but I cheated. I grabbed a monster energy coffee during break. It kept me going which is what I was hoping for.

I also got a five dollar tip. That helped. And a couple of ladies wrote down my name and they’re putting in a good word for me on the survey. It’s nice. They called on the phone and I was so energetic, I was the reason they came in. I’ve wound down now, of course, but… damn. Today was nice.

I should have texted Diana, but I don’t want to come off as too overbearing. Besides, I might work with her tomorrow. That’d be nice. She speaks Spanish, unlike my illiterate ass. I swear, I’m getting worse. I have yet to continue my lessons. I don’t like doing my lessons with Adela here. She is kinda judgmental and I don’t need that right now. Normally, I’m fine with that but after what’s happened I’ve found I’ve become more sensitive as of late.

Rocky stuff. I’m running out of food but Adela doesn’t really work at all this week. Just one day. I haven’t seen her yesterday except super late at night. Or super early yesterday, if you count it. Sort of like right now. I guess this counts for yesterday to me. Doesn’t matter what I think it is. Measuring days by when I wake up to when I go to sleep. That’s far simpler.

I noticed Diana has tattoos. She has a sweater that says “My Chemical Romance” so I think I know her type. Ironically, that reminds me of Dennis because he was into that emo shit too. I think I only like one or two of their songs. Most of it is kind of… meh. Not that I ever told him to turn it off. I tried to be polite.

Anyways, I suspect Diana thinks I’m either on drugs or I’m a super cheerful and happy guy. I think she’d be surprised if she knew the truth and the thoughts in my head are constant reflections of all my past mistakes and that my overly enthusiastic nature is a guise to hide the fact that I’m still torn up by losing Esther and every minute I want to scream out and cry. But I hide it. To her, I’m smiling and charming. She doesn’t need to know. Not even Ariel knows.

It’s hard to stay strong. It’s hard to stay afloat in this sea. It’s… difficult to look forward. Work is worst when I have no other option but to confront my own thoughts. There is a lot of time for thinking while working retail. I think too much perhaps… or perhaps I’m not thinking enough. My brain switches to autopilot. Hidden away, Esther lingers. Everything reminds me of her, everything tells me that she would enjoy this thing before me, everything revolves around her. Perhaps she’s replaced my conscience. Interesting idea, no? There is no good or evil thoughts in my head. Just the thought the lingering idea that Esther once existed in my life. I need to get over it, but I can’t. I can’t endure the silence. The silence grows louder and is piercing. My thoughts echo her face, her voice, our life together. Thus, I need noise. Something to break the ambiance. A busy day. A successful day. The computers didn’t crash but nearly did. The customers were polite and patient. It was a good day. It was a busy day. It was a day I needed.

Of course, what I don’t need is all the food. I purchased 7 dollars worth. Not a good rate to purchase if I do it daily. I skipped breakfast because I’m a terrible person and I’m bad with time. I made it to work and I wasn’t late, but I didn’t have time to just sit down and eat. Thus, I pigged.

Two snowballs, a cup of velveeta shells, and pringles. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. After work, I had candy. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck! And of course, heavily sugared monster energy coffee. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!

Yeah, diet is slowing down. I measured myself this week. Didn’t gain but nor did I lose. Baaaaaaad sign. Very bad. And I can almost guarantee that I gained after today. That sugar sticks with you. I need to stop getting sugar, but… I couldn’t help myself. I wanted Snowballs yesterday so I grabbed them today. I like the marshmallows and the coconut.

Of course, I’m also drinking a bit more than 1500 ml of water a day. How much is that? Not sure. I think 1.5 liters but I don’t know metric because I’m a dumb fucking American and shit can’t be easy because muh freedoms.

Metric is so nice. I wish we used it. :/

Regardless, I try to drink a lot of water. My lips get so dry while at work. I wear this dumb Christmas hat, too. It’s warm and I sweat a lot. I don’t do well in the heat. I stepped outside earlier today just to embrace the cold. It helped a bit but I couldn’t continue the rest of my shift with the hat on.

I want to ask Diana out on a date… thing is, I don’t have a car and I still don’t know if she has a boyfriend. It wouldn’t be anything serious because… well, Ariel, but I still think Diana would be fun to hang with. Oh, maybe she’d watch a movie with me. I need to talk to her more first. Maybe I’ll ask her out on January. We’ll see.

We should see a movie. Maybe the Death of Stalin if it’s still playing. Should see a horror, but eh. I want to talk to her about COMMIE-ISM!!! Of course, she won’t be on board and politics is hard to bring up on a first date. That’ll make me appear crazy for sure. However, I think it’d be fun. Like with Esther, if she wants nothing to do with me hopefully she’ll be better off after she’s met me at least.

I won’t bring up Esther. Maybe if she talks about past relationships. I MIGHT do the Narcissist thing and just tell her that my friends fucking backstabbed me and ruined my relationship for their own gains. But that’ll be only if she asks about my past relationship. Of course, the thing is that the thing with Esther? That? You know, the thing that jumpstarted this journal which will lead to a Tumblr blog? That thing? The event? That? I’m sort of in Texas partly because of that. And also partly because I can’t stand my own family. So, it’ll be hard to not bring up but it should be easy to put down again. Hopefully. I don’t know Diana that well. We’ll see.

My mom is coming out in THREE days. I hate it. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mom. However, I REALLY don’t want to see her right now. I don’t want to see anyone from my nuclear family. I haven’t spoken to my dad since I left. And you know what? I don’t regret it.

I’ve acknowledged that my dad will probably die anytime soon and that the last time we spoke may perhaps be the actual last time we spoke. After what’s happened between us… perhaps it’s better this way. My dad still loves me but he emasculated me in front of Esther. He fosters this… hostile environment. It’s not healthy.

So, I guess I’m going to go Esther on him and avoid him. Of course, I’m not as dedicated as Esther. I’ll text my mom or sister to tell him I said “Merry Christmas” or something. Honestly, I hate Christmas. Not just because of Communism but because… well, gross. I hate Christmas songs and all the mirth and joy. I HATE Christmas. I hate it. Christmas is an obligation. It’s a tradition I’d rather let die.

However, people at work think I love Christmas. I don’t, but they don’t know that. I am so jolly and cheery people can’t help but smile. I guess it’s good for them but… eh. Let them assume. The customers are happy and my coworkers don’t have to know my personal business. Not that it matters, I’ve been talking up a storm today.

Regardless, I hate Christmas. The loss of Esther just makes Christmas even worse. I dread to imagine what New Years will be like. And then the 18th… then the 20th… The 18th is Esther’s birthday. The 20th is when we met in person. Two days after her birthday. Things were better then. Maybe. We were so hopeful then.

Of course, I was fearful at the time because I had nowhere to take her. I was DREADING bringing her home to see my parents. They’re overwhelming and my dad… well, he’s not the easiest person to get along with. I felt like I died when I came back. That was why I isolated myself so much. It’s a bad environment. I never want to go back there ever again. Hopefully, I never will. I know I will, of course… I’ll get my truck and other things. Some things, I’ll need. Pants, clothing, all these things that will fit me. A new wardrobe. How exciting.

But I need to tolerate it. I’ll be called back, I just don’t know when. It’s like I’m waiting for my own execution but the date is a surprise. If I go back, I might pick a fight with Dennis, just for giggles. I probably won’t but it’s fun to consider. “Oh, but what about the apologies and the blah blah blah!” Yeah, I know what I said but it doesn’t change the fact that he still STABBED ME IN THE FUCKING BACK!!! Like, you don’t date a friend’s ex. You don’t do what he did. There are codes of ethics. Bros before hoes. What he did is something you don’t do. You also don’t allow your friend’s relationship to go to shit. You help your friends, regardless of what Esther thinks. This is what guy friends are supposed to do.

Yeah, I’ve forgiven him but that doesn’t mean he didn’t do me wrong. Esther is an idiot, blinded by oxytocin. If she didn’t fall for his self-pity bullshit, then things would have been better. Like, that’s the only reason why she’d be SO FUCKING UNREASONABLE. When it fades, she’ll be more easier to approach. Of course, I didn’t realize that until recently so I bet I’ve still lost my chance. Not the point.

Still, Dennis is still a fucking asshole. I will say this now: He doesn’t deserve Esther. That’s not the oxytocin I have for her speaking. That’s the lingering anger I have for Dennis. Again, I feel so betrayed and he did nothing to even rectify his actions.

And of course Shane… Shane fucking STIRRED THE POT!!! He played me. I believed in him. He pushed me to think that Dennis was worse than he actually was. I’ll admit, what he did was pretty bad but I thought he was FAR worse. I was an idiot. Shane was trying to get into Esther’s pants. The losers I associated with… they see a pretty girl, and suddenly friendship means NOTHING. Fucking feeding frenzy of sharks.

Loyalty is pretty important to me. Shane is worse than Dennis in my eyes. Dennis was guilty of allowing things to turn bad. Shane actively made things worse. Daniel, of course… well, he is lost in his own right. I was sincere with Daniel. Dennis has always hated him. Of course, Daniel is Dennis’s brother so loyalty is important to him too.

It’s a shame. Maybe Daniel will see what a poor brother Dennis has been. I remember when we were drinking and Dennis began crying about how horrible his life is. Daniel immediately shot him down because he was sent to juvenile hall for something stupid. Basically stripped of his family and rights at a young age. Dennis can’t compete with that, really.

Dennis had that coming. Self-pity infuriates me. Of course, I guess I’m a hypocrite. Look at where I am now with this dumb journal.

Of course, I don’t pity myself. I pity what I became in the face of tragedy. I’m dealing with loss that I could have prevented. The lingering idea of regret. I have only myself to blame, even though I’m still bitter with Dennis and Shane. They weren’t the best friends. Our friendship is forfeit and their to blame. My life has taken a turn for the worse, however, and I’m the only one to blame for that. My past friends? They’re simply a symptom to the larger issue.

It’s almost the end of a hard year. 2018 will be better for me. I am without expectations but I’m not without hope. Hope is my final luxury. I hope either next year or the year after or the year after… Esther will talk to me again. She’ll see my apology. She’ll forgive me. She’ll move on and I’ll move on as well. I need our lives to end on good terms. This is my struggle.

Dennis… I can live without his forgiveness. I won’t apologize to Dennis for what I’ve done or said. Not because I think I was right but because he doesn’t think he’s done wrong himself. He freed himself of blame through peculiar means. He will never be my friend again. Shane DEFINITELY won’t be my friend ever again.

I’ve lost them both, but I see their losses as necessary. They were unhealthy for me. Esther… she was healthy. She sought good health, she was filled with honest intentions. She has a good heart. She’s just angry at me right now. She hates me right now… but she means well. Her heart belongs to the world. She’s grounded. Centered. Her loss was not necessary but our parting was inevitable. I wasn’t ready to change. I had so much holding me back. Now… not so much. I have my eyes to the horizon. What I’ll find… I don’t know. I just need to move forward.

I wonder how much longer I’ll be haunted by Esther’s spectre. The small things that remind me of her… they seem to be infinite. It feels impossible to move on but I know I will.

Oh, something about Dennis. More me shitting on him, but she said that Dennis gets randomly punched by strangers for being brown. I know for a fact that she hasn’t seen this in person. The reason being is because the Racist doesn’t punch people. They’re actually similar to Dennis in the sense that they like to play the victim. I know this because I troll A LOT and one of my favorite targets is the Racist. Listen to them speak. They’ll insist that they’re the victims. Confront them and they’ll back down and claim that you’re worse than they. They won’t confront you unless they know they’ll win. Dennis is a large man. Round. A lot of mass. He usually travels with his family, so you’d confront a pack. And you’d have to both be in public. Not a lot of alleyways where we live but maybe in Reno? Again, unlikely.

Of course, Dennis isn’t like the Racist in the sense that he’s a terrible human being who wants to insight mass violence. Their similarities end at self-pity, you see. Insistence on being the victim. Dennis feeds off sympathy because he has a low self-esteem. Racists feed off sympathy because it’s their only means to progress their agenda.

Humans are naturally cowardly. This is because if humans were naturally brave, we’d be extinct. It’s not the survival of the fittest, it’s the survival of ANY MEANS NECESSARY!!! The idea that you have to be the strongest to survive is dumb. You don’t need to be strong, you just need to survive. The idea that the survival of the fittest was proposed by Darwin is dumb because I’m fairly certain that quote is misattributed.

Anyways, the Racist is a cowardly person. They feign bravery. When they talk shit, they speak to hear themselves. They build themselves up. So, another reason why they won’t RANDOMLY punch someone. Because that someone might punch back. They need to convince themselves to overcome the fear of getting punched back. It’s harder than it sounds.

But, Esther believes Dennis is constantly harassed for being brown. Ask Daniel if he’s constantly harassed for being brown. Ask my mom. Ask his mom. Ask FUCKING ANYONE ELSE!!! Esther is gullible. But that’s because she has honest intentions.

Dennis is generally dishonest. Because… low self-esteem, yes. Good work, Class. He likes to fib and tell exaggerations because he’s always been overweight. He was a nice guy, of course, but he told A LOT of lies. I’m sure he still does. He claims his father was dishonest too, but I doubt this. His dad died while I was in Texas. I was hoping to visit his grave but that chance has passed.

Of course, I’m reminded by one of our outings when I came back from Texas. We were drinking and I was sad about my cat because I HAD JUST LOST HER so she’s fresh in my mind. His dad died a year or two prior. I think it may have been before or during when I worked at the cemetery. He constantly brought it up whenever I wanted to talk about my cat and how his dad was more important.

Like… that’s unfair. I didn’t have time to mourn my cat. I was trying to mourn then. I was there when his dad died. Or at least, I listened. Of course, the loss of a human life sucks but the way he treated me when I lost my cat… it was inexcusable.

Of course, now I’m just ranting. I’m in a bad mood now. I’m not sure why Dennis did that. I suspect the alcohol had something to do with it, but fuck… just give me a minute.

Dennis wasn’t really a good friend. I know this now. He was great fun to talk to but he wasn’t very supportive. Like, at all. Good memories with him, but… fuck. Ignoring his betrayal, just everything else he’s done. Of course, he’s been telling Esther all these cool things he and I did while in Susanville. Not to say he and I didn’t do fun things, but… I don’t remember doing a lot of fun things in Susanville.

I suspect what he’s been telling her is falsehoods. Which is fine, it doesn’t really matter. However, for the sake of honesty, we didn’t really go out much. When we hung out, we basically stayed around his house. Played video games. Very seldom did we actually go outside. When we did, it was normally a short and uneventful walk. Or working for his dad. Like, we were part of these efforts to remove a tree stump from his yard. That was interesting.

In town, we never really hung out anywhere beyond food places. Like, we ate out a lot. That’s about it. Never really went to the park or anything. Every now and then, Adriana would have us drive somewhere like Sacramento and the ride there and back was usually the eventful part. But we were on the road in my truck.

Esther is gullible. She’ll believe anything he says right now. If she and I reconnects, I’d like to ask her about some of these stories. I’ll confirm or deny them. Despite what it seems, I’m not trying to paint Dennis out as a liar (at least not with these stories). It’s just I’m thinking about it now. We have all these stories around town and I’m thinking, “When?” There is a decent chance some of these stories are true, but not all. In fact, the true stories are probably the minimum. The stories I tell of me and Dennis involve either Reno or my truck. If it involves leaving the truck, then it’s probably false.

We’re introverts. He is DEFINITELY an introvert. Thus, our adventures were minimum. Ironically, some of the adventures we have I had to start. I was impulsive like that. There are certainly good memories, but I feel the memories he remembers are different from my own. Especially if they’re around town.

Anyways, sorry for ranting. The subject won’t die. It can’t die. Not until I get closure with Esther. For now, it’ll just fade. Never quite disappearing but it won’t be as vibrant as it once was.

Oh, I just got in a debate with a fascist. I missed this. It wasn’t really a debate, he knew nothing about Hitler and Fascism. It was simple, he spammed pictures with words on it and I engaged him. I was very polite and sincere and gave him an opportunity to reveal what he liked about Fascism. I asked him loaded questions. I asked if he thought Fascism was compatible with Capitalism. This is loaded because I wasn’t specific. If he said, “No, Fascism isn’t compatible with Capitalism” I’d bring up Francisco Franco who is, arguably, the most successful Fascist and has said that Fascism and Capitalism can work together. However, he said, “Yes.” I quoted Hitler saying the Jews are Capitalists and Capitalists are vermin that needed to be stamped out. I mean… it was a bit more tame than I’m making it sound, really. It was more an address to attack the “free press” of Germany. After a bit of a scuffle, he vanished and I tried changing the topic to Nationalism. Fascists LOVE Nationalism. They love bolstering and proclaiming their race is the one true race. What they don’t love is how I love shooting down their pure race fantasies. I intend to ask him about Spain and Iran. Will probably ask about Iran first. The purpose is because Iran was where the “Aryan” race came from. HOWEVER, most Nazis view Iranians unfavorably. Which is a shame because Hitler decreed that ALL Iranians are official citizens of Nazi Germany. The Iranian embassy saved 1500 Jews during the Holocaust. They had the power to do this because they were considered equals because they were the original Aryans. Golly, being Racist is hard.

Hrm, this guy seems to be a cop. American; former military veteran. This dude has a power fantasy. Still, not sure how serious he is about Fascism. Is he trolling? Hard to tell.

Whatever the case, I’m going to push him towards STALINISM. He doesn’t like Marxism, but Stalinism is basically the most conservative and nationalist of the Communist ideologues. He’d be more open to it than Marxism. Of course, he knows nothing about Fascism so I suspect he is a joke without a punchline. Regardless, I had fun while it lasted. He’s ultra religious. Or maybe it’s still a shtick he’s committed to? Hard to tell, he seems pretty serious but the Fascist tends to back out when they realize they’ve lost.

Mind you, I was expecting him to point out how I twisted his words at one point. He said he disagreed with what I was saying about Hitler being anti-capitalist. I twisted that (because he was vague) to make it sound like he disagreed with his previous statement having said, “Yes.” The thing is, he tried to make me sound racist early on involving the word (Trigger Warning; lol) “Nigger.” He shared a link from Che Guevara that was a bit racist originally but embellished to be SUPER racist. Just slight wording differences. Doesn’t take much, tbh.

Regardless, when I pointed out Che was Spanish-Irish racially, he blasted me and implied I said, “Only blacks are niggers!” and spouted off how he was Black Lives Matter. Lel, no. I shot that down and brought up the word “Kike” and said that me calling him a Kike means I’m calling him a Jew and not anything else because of the word’s origins. I said “People of color” in that post which is a term I don’t feel like using but I use because saying “African-American” indicates that I’m DEFINITELY American. I don’t like revealing too much information about myself, so I chose to take on the PC route, especially since I was approaching him gently so I could slap him around longer.

He went on about how whites have all these different eye and hair colors and I chose to ignore it to let him know that the Western standards for a race is different from other nations like Kosovo where Albanians and Serbs are different races but have the same skin color.

He kept insisting he was going to get banned, but I let him know that I was the only person there to listen to him ramble and I intended to educate him because education is a machine that kills Fascism. I thought it was a clever quote, but I’m certain it pissed him off.

Fascists are like candy bars. They’re all the same and you certainly know the flavor. Sometimes, it’s filled differently than other candy bars but it’s not too difficult to imagine what they’ll all taste like. Snickers has peanuts, twix has a cookie, and Nazis… well, this one is more Nationalist than Economist. This means he’s basically interested in Fascism because he believes he’s the chosen one. It’s part of his power fantasy. He is naturally superior than me, though he has yet to prove it. Unfortunately, being superior isn’t enough when it comes to knowledge. Thus, when asking him about other bits of Nazi information he can’t do it.

Basically, I feed off his weaknesses. His weakness is his belief that he doesn’t need to know anything beyond the fact that he’s special. Nazis who actually educate themselves can be rather rare, but they’re never FULLY educated. What they read is “Mien Kampf” by Hitler but they don’t actually see what he did that didn’t involve the Jews. They don’t research what Nazi Germany did that wasn’t totally involved in the War Effort. It’s harder to find and honestly doesn’t come up much.

This is why the “Iranians were Honorary Citizens in Nazi Germany” is important. It’s a bit of information that Nazis don’t really find because it’s HARD to find. Honestly, it’s not that important which is why it’s necessary. What Nazis don’t discover is what you need to discover. In a war of facts, the facts that aren’t used are the most dangerous. And even better, bring up facts from OTHER Fascists and it’ll just inspire more chaos.

I am confident that I can argue with ANY Nazi and will find victory. They’ll always back down or yell fruitlessly and will lose control. It’s great. Fascists want the world but they don’t know how to get it. They don’t know much of anything, really.

Oh, he liked one of my comments. The Hitler quote. Yeah, he backed down but he’s trying not to appear offended. The purpose of the SINGLE like is to show that he’s not hurt and is TOTALLY light-hearted. It’s to save face. If he likes a post and leaves, he’s not coming back or is signaling that he’ll return later. If he likes and then comments, he’ll comment light-heartedly as if we were sooooooooo civil. Ass kissing is a common ploy. If a Fascist tries to flatter you then know that it’s empty words and feigned submission.

I haven’t spoken to a Nazi in person for a while. Last time was in Amarillo. It’s great. They’re braver on the internet. Go figure. Then again, I’m 6 feet tall with 3 feet broad shoulders. I’m not a pushover. Fortunate to be brawn and brains. ;)

It’s 5:30 in the morning. Christ, it’s time for bed. Hopefully he’ll come back and I’ll slap him around some more. Before I go, a little tip for arguing with Nazis: Don’t worry about being wrong. If you’re on the attack, the Nazi will seldom notice. For example, I said, “Private property has nothing to do with the free market” and he never brought it up for debate. The reason for this is because he’s not looking to attack or counter-attack. He’s on the defensive so he’s defending his ideals. If you’re on the defensive verbally, you can’t just change the topic.

I blatantly changed the topic, but the reason I did that was because I presented a topic that’s easier to attack while merging it with what he criticized which was Black Lives Matter. Saying, “Since you're super into Black Lives Matters, then certainly you've heard of the glory that is Marxism, yes?” This implies Black Lives Matters is the same as Marxism and because he’s clearly an opponent to both, the change he saw was minimal. The push into Marxism lead him to blatantly say, “Marxism is dumb! I’ll get banned by Facebook now!” Paraphrasing, obviously, but that’s basically his response except he posted several pictures proclaiming Fascism as the virtuous ideology.

Thus, I used that to my advantage by asking him “It’s clear you like Fascism, but what do you like most about it?” I gave him a platform to speak which is something you shouldn’t do, but this is more like a trial. He think he’ll spread the good word when in reality everything he says will be used against him. He thought he was in control and when he realized he wasn’t, that’s when he backed down. I asked questions and he answered. Then when he answered, he was asked different questions that further branched away from the original topic. The ball was originally in his court but by me giving him some space, he moved the ball into my court.

His arrogance didn’t see the immediate threat. This means he’ll blindly charge ahead without realizing the risk at hand. He knows nothing about me, which is good. His acts are predictable because people don’t stand up to Nazis. They lose their temper immediately because just the idea of someone being a Nazi triggers people.

Don’t lose your temper. If you’re being blasted, then don’t lose yourself. The Nazi will twist your words to make you sound like a bad guy. Don’t deflect the conversation but guide it. It’s a slow build up to turn his offense against him. The conversation is a curve; not an angle. The Nazi wants you to be upset and it’s not enough to blatantly say, “I’m not upset.” When you say, “I’m not upset” that’s announcing that you’re in denial and you don’t want to appear angry when it’s already too late.

Instead, ignore your frustration. If they say you’re angry, shrug it off. Be sarcastic. Be witty. Show that you’re unphased. It’s not what you say but how you say it. What I did, to lower the Nazi’s guard, was end every response up until I went on the offensive with a “:D” emoji. At the end, I used it again to encourage him to respond. A smiling face is non-hostile. So, the coward isn’t afraid. It’s basically berries in a trap. Unfortunately, he didn’t chew his leg off but it affected him regardless.

Tomorrow, he’ll still won’t respond. I’ve already won and he’s aware that I know more about Fascism than he does. If he answers my questions, he’ll be shot down again. The smartest decision he’s made is to stop responding. The thing is, this will discourage him from posting more of his Fascist nonsense. Even if he ran off to comment about the glories of Fascism elsewhere, he’ll do so with far less confidence. He’ll become more skiddish and will be less of a problem for others.

I think I might share the entire conversation tomorrow, if it’s still up. It will probably be less annoying than the movie reviews but not by much. It’ll be educational too. I miss picking on Nazis. It’s refreshing. They view me as a lesser person if a person at all. I’m half-Mexican and a Marxist. If I still used my old picture, I look SUPER Latino. I look like an easy target because they think all Marxists are dumb. They don’t think much of the average Marxist mostly because those who claim to be Communist don’t actually know what Communism is.

I’ve mentioned that before. They associate Communists with people on Tumblr (somewhat ironic considering you’re reading this on Tumblr). Social Justice Warriors? Totally Communist, at least by their eyes. The stereotype that the SJW’s are irrational and quick to cry is their bane. A good Communist is a well-versed Communist. You need to educate yourself on a lot because as a Communist, you’ll have enemies… everywhere. In the US, Fascists are seen more favorably than Communists. Antifa is viewed as worse than Hitler by right wing media.

The Alt-Right (which are American Fascists, even if they’re not Nazis or Racists though I suspect many actually are by the strict definition of one or both words) demean Communists and denounce all Communists by comparing them to Stalin. I’m not a Stalinist, not that they care about branches. However, I will always be compared to Stalin. Because the best example is the worst example. Juche Korea (or North Korea) is a perfect example of Communism to the West. Except the government has denounced Marxism-Leninism. It’s “Obsolete” in Korea. Communism has many forms and shapes. Stalinism, which is what I wanted to bring Fuck-Face into, is basically Fascism-Communism. I don’t encourage Stalinism. Modern Communist thought has become FAR more compatible with other ideals. For example, one hundred years ago, Anarchists were a threat to the Communist idea. Now? There are the Anarcho-Communists or AnCom. I believe Antifa is big on AnCom but I don’t think it’s a requirement.

There is a point to all this. The enemy of the Communist is ignorant of Communism. But the biggest threat for Communism is not the enemy of the Communist but the ignorance of the Communist himself. Knowledge is more powerful than a rifle.

I find it ironic. I posted a picture of a pencil with “This machine kills fascists” on the side. The Nazi saw it and thought, “That’s the enemy. I must fight him.” He failed to understand that the purpose of the picture was to show that knowledge destroys Fascism. Crush ignorance and you crush the Fascist. He was outmatched before it even began.

Poetic, no?

Still Christmas Eve. So tired. Today feels incomplete. Not good. Work that is.

Max is not doing so well, either. Blood in his stool. Not sure what’s wrong. My cousin blames herself because she keeps feeding him treats.

Anyways, I’ve been thinking of Esther a lot. Last year, she had a hard Christmas. Spent it alone, basically. Family issues. I won’t get into details because this will be public someday and I don’t want Esther to hate me EVEN MORE than she already does. Though, I’ve confessed that other things have happened to her already. Guess there is no winning.

0 notes

tbhstudying1 · 5 years

Text

from for the dreams i want to catch https://ift.tt/2zZqbzC See More

How to Deal with Study Burnout

As students in this day and age, it’s quite common for us to juggle rigorous academic responsibilities and overwhelming extracurricular activities. As a result, we might feel burnt out. But what exactly is burnout?

Burnout is when you feel physically and mentally exhausted as a result of constantly lacking the energy required to fulfill the demands of your studying.

Burnout can be broken down into three parts:

Exhaustion is what causes you to feel tired all the time and unable to concentrate. You could also get sick or have trouble sleeping.

Cynicism or depersonalization is when you feel disconnected from those around you, e.g. your friends and family.

Inefficacy is a decrease in productivity, efficiency, or quality of your work.

How do you know if you have burnout?

Symptoms may vary, but they include:

Being unable to absorb new information

Intellectual exhaustion

Decreasing academic performance and productivity

Feeling like you need to prove yourself

Making yourself work even more, even though you’re exhausted or being unwilling to study further

Neglecting your needs

Long term fatigue

Showing disinterest in things you normally enjoy, e.g. hobbies or friends

Denying that something’s wrong with you (may manifest in the form of aggression)

Avoiding social interaction

Feeling empty and depressed

What can I do to fix it?

Here are some short term solutions for dealing with burnout.

1. Take a power nap Power naps are life changing. They help you recharge your energy and get you ready to start working again. They also improve learning, memory, creativity, alertness, and mood. I would recommend napping for 30 minutes at most, because anything more will lead to a longer sleep session.

Optional: drink coffee before your nap - something that takes a short while to consume like a shot of espresso - so that you’ll feel alert and revitalized afterwards!

2. Take a shower A cold one will wake you up, but a warm one will calm you down. I suggest starting with warm water, then ending with cold water.

3. Exercise Whether it’s playing soccer or doing yoga, the important thing is to get moving! Exercise releases endorphins or happy hormones that help you combat stress.

4. Run a quick errand This will help take your mind off things while also getting something done! You’ll also end up walking, which is technically a form of exercise.

5. Call or visit a friend Sometimes what we’re lacking is social interaction, and hanging out with a friend definitely helps. Whether it’s providing you with a distraction or giving emotional support, your friends are always there to help you. Plus, science has shown that being with friends reduces your cortisol (stress hormone) levels.

6. Eat a snack Preferably a healthy one. Eat something with proteins, vitamins, and fibers to boost your mood. Here’s a list of mood boosting foods.

7. Surf the web This requires A TON of discipline, but it’s definitely a game changer. Surfing the web is one of the most relaxing things you could do. I personally look for a good laugh during my study breaks, so I’d watch a comedy or scroll through memes to get those happy hormones up and running.

8. Do an activity you find interesting, e.g. a hobby We all need happiness in our lives, and our hobbies are perhaps the best way to find that joy. You could sit down with a page turning adventure, or go outside and shoot hoops, or listen to a podcast, or even bullet journal, as long as you’re having a good time.

9. Listen to music Music is one of the ways we gain energy, so I always make time for it during the day. However, you should choose the right music, because not all the music you love is going to make you feel energized. For me, it’s pop punk with hard hitting beats, thundering guitars, and really upbeat, enthusiastic vocals. Some of you might be energized by mellow music with dreamy vocals that make you feel like you’re floating in the clouds. If you choose the wrong music, you might just end up feeling sluggish and drained.

10. Get some fresh air Your brain needs 20% of the oxygen in your body. Fresh air brings more oxygen to your brain so that you can think more clearly, feel less tired, and concentrate more easily.

How do I make sure I don’t get it in the future?

Avoiding study burnout in the long term has a lot to do with our study habits - as well as our daily habits. We need to make sure that our bodies and minds receive the things they need, and that we aren’t overworking them.

1. Study a little at a time Break up your notes into smaller, more easily digestible pieces and learn a little at a time. This way, you’re not overwhelming your brain, and you have time to let that new knowledge settle in.

2. Time management Having a good study schedule is crucial in preventing burnout. You don’t want to force yourself to work at your slow hours. Aside from that, you definitely shouldn’t leave things until the last minute, and sticking to a schdule will help you pace yourself. Here’s a post I wrote on How to Make an Efficient Revision Schedule and How to Beat Procrastination.

3. Get enough rest I cannot stress enough that sleep is so important for you. It improves your cognitive functioning and also enhances your mood, making it less likely that you’ll get burnt out. Make sure to take power naps, too, if you feel like you need them.

You also really shouldn’t pull all-nighters. Sleep is also involved in cementing memories in your brain, so if you study a little before you sleep, you’re bound to remember more than if you studied a chapter during an all nighter.

Having trouble sleeping? Here’s a post I made about my night routine and how to get better sleep.

4. Cycle your study environments Your body and mind are bound to get tired from being in the same location for prolonged periods of time. The best way to fix that is to study in different places: at your desk, your backyard, the dining table, a cafe, a friend’s house, the library, etc.You should find a frequency that works for you. I like to switch it up every 2-3 days; some people change locations every week.

5. Eat well As I’ve mentioned before, healthy foods with protein, vitamins, and fiber greatly improve your mood and your physical health. Proper nutrition will give your brain the power it needs to push through. Also make sure not to skip meals; honestly you’ll just end up feeling terrible afterwards.

6. Take frequent breaks Let’s face it, we’re human, we’re bound to get tired from studying for a long time. Taking breaks enables our brains to digest the information we just learned in a pace that works for it. Breaks also help us focus on something other than studying, so that when we do get back to it, we’ll be ready to digest even more information.

7. Set realistic study goals You’re gonna memorize all 500 pages of your biology textbook in one day? Good luck with that. Some of you might be compulsive studiers, but this kind of habit isn’t very good for your brain or your physical health. Studies have shown that excess studying can lead to lower productivity, fatigue, and - you guessed it - burnout. In the end, this will result in lower academic performance, perhaps even in the long run. So instead of trying to study so much in one sitting or one day, break up your material into chunks.

8. Maintain your social life Wherever you lie on the introvert-extrovert spectrum, everyone needs social interaction once in a while. It keeps you sane and healthy. Go out with your friends, have a sleepover, or maybe even a study date.

9. Start the day right What we do in the morning can significantly affect our mood for the rest of the day. Sometimes we don’t even feel like getting up in the morning, or doing anything that day. One thing you should do is create a morning routine you enjoy to jumpstart your day. Here are 8 Morning Habits for Productivity.

10. Think positive When we’re feeling burnt out, it’s hard to not think negatively about everything. In reality, that just makes our condition worse. So think positively! Start small, like congratulating yourself for getting out of bed today, and then work your way up to bigger accomplishments, like finishing 2 chapters of your textbook.

11. Keep a stress diary This is kind of a new concept for me, but it’s really great. How it works is that each day, you would write down all the things that made you stressed and how they made you stressed. This will help you identify the things you’re doing that’s causing your burnout, e.g.

Too long study hours? take regular breaks

Too much time in the same place? cycle your study environment

Not eating properly? set aside time to eat healthy meals at least 2 times a day

Not doing the things you love? schedule in time for that, e.g. during your long breaks

Not getting enough human interaction? make a study group

Too much negative thinking? adopt a positive mindset (you can always start small)

Not getting enough sleep? fix your sleep schedule

And that’s all I have for you guys this time. Hope these tips will help you manage your stress and study burnout whenever you have them. And if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to drop an ask!

P.S. if any of you want to see the images in this post in better quality, click here (link to google drive)

#IFTTT #for the dreams i want to catch

0 notes

namashay-blog1 · 7 years

Text

7 Simple Ways to Unwind After Work

We've all had those days where you want to do nothing else but lay on the floor and pass out after work. It's a common problem for everyone. Work has the ability to suck the very life out of you, if you let it that is.

Somewhere along the way on this newfound health journey of mine, I developed a system for beating the work beast out of my body. These 7 simple steps are how I stay relaxed and calm and keep myself out of the murky waters of burnout.

Take a hot shower or warm bath

There is no better way to relax than with warm water and your favorite soap. The second I walk into my apartment, I can't wait to shed my clothes and enter my white-tiled sanctuary. There is no Let the hot water cascade down your body and watch the suds, and your worries, float down the drain.

Play some shower tunes

If you have a speaker of any kind, such as my bluetooth speaker, you can take your shower to the next level. Nothing gets tension out of body more than dancing and sing does. Under that constant flow of water, I am free and alone and I love it.

Wrap up in your comfiest of robes

Whether it be cotton, silk or terry cloth, wrap it around your body and bask in the utter comfort it bestows to your tired body. I have three robes but my favorite is a thin Walmart robe that swaddles me after my showers and keeps me warm and cool at the same time. As an added bonus, I feel so sexy in it as it hugs my body like a second skin. I am not ashamed that walking past my boyfriend wearing this is my favorite pastime.

Sit back and breathe for a second

This is something we take for granted too much. The minute I walk through the door of my apartment I always lay back on the couch and just breathe. In...and out. It doesn't get much simpler than that. Just a few minutes of this can bring my stress level down exponentially. Plus it gives me time to filter through the events of the day and file everything away properly in my cluttered brain.

Indulge in your favorite snack

Give me a dark chocolate Hershey and I am in perfect tranquility. I've purchased so many that I feel like should buy stock in the company at this point.

Your snack can be as healthy as carrots and spinach or as heart clogging as deep fried chicken or a porkchop. All the matter is that YOU feel happy as hell while eating it. There is nothing more peaceful than a happy stomach.

Crack open your journal or a new book

I have recently deemed June as Read the Book First Month, and first on my list was Queen Sugar. I am always eager to rush home so I can curl up in my favorite chair with my Kindle and immerse myself into the fictional lives of an up and coming dysfunctional sugar cane farming family. I also do a quick brain dump into my journal so that I can keep my mind clear before I got to bed. If you're ever been attacked by a swarm of gnats, that is exactly how it feels to try and go to bed with a mind full of unresolved thoughts.

Sit back, relax and push the day from your mind with a piping hot mug of tea

Out of all the various methods of relaxing I have, sipping on a mug of tea is my favorite. There are so many different flavors of tea in my pantry so I never get bored. From Irish Breakfast to jasmine green tea to bengal spice, I have it all. There is always a type of tea to fit my particular mood for that day. If you are an avid coffee drinker, I promise you don't have to give up that beautiful black liquid. Trust me as I am a self-proclaimed coffee connoisseur. It doesn't hurt to add a new item to your beverage lineup every now and then. Just try the tea and see if you don't fall in love with it like I did.

I'm no expert but these steps work for me. I don't have to do all of them everyday but just the combination of a few of them give me the mental boost I need to jumpstart myself for the next day. Who knows, maybe these will work for you too.

#Work #Reading #Health #Music #Mental #Unwind #Life #Journal #Book #Relax

0 notes

tbhstudying1 · 5 years

Text

from for the dreams i want to catch https://ift.tt/2zZqbzC via See More

How to Deal with Study Burnout

Burnout is when you feel physically and mentally exhausted as a result of constantly lacking the energy required to fulfill the demands of your studying.

Burnout can be broken down into three parts:

Exhaustion is what causes you to feel tired all the time and unable to concentrate. You could also get sick or have trouble sleeping.

Cynicism or depersonalization is when you feel disconnected from those around you, e.g. your friends and family.

Inefficacy is a decrease in productivity, efficiency, or quality of your work.

How do you know if you have burnout?

Symptoms may vary, but they include:

Being unable to absorb new information

Intellectual exhaustion

Decreasing academic performance and productivity

Feeling like you need to prove yourself

Making yourself work even more, even though you’re exhausted or being unwilling to study further

Neglecting your needs

Long term fatigue

Showing disinterest in things you normally enjoy, e.g. hobbies or friends

Denying that something’s wrong with you (may manifest in the form of aggression)

Avoiding social interaction

Feeling empty and depressed

What can I do to fix it?

Here are some short term solutions for dealing with burnout.

Optional: drink coffee before your nap - something that takes a short while to consume like a shot of espresso - so that you’ll feel alert and revitalized afterwards!

2. Take a shower A cold one will wake you up, but a warm one will calm you down. I suggest starting with warm water, then ending with cold water.

3. Exercise Whether it’s playing soccer or doing yoga, the important thing is to get moving! Exercise releases endorphins or happy hormones that help you combat stress.

4. Run a quick errand This will help take your mind off things while also getting something done! You’ll also end up walking, which is technically a form of exercise.

6. Eat a snack Preferably a healthy one. Eat something with proteins, vitamins, and fibers to boost your mood. Here’s a list of mood boosting foods.

10. Get some fresh air Your brain needs 20% of the oxygen in your body. Fresh air brings more oxygen to your brain so that you can think more clearly, feel less tired, and concentrate more easily.

How do I make sure I don’t get it in the future?

Having trouble sleeping? Here’s a post I made about my night routine and how to get better sleep.

Too long study hours? take regular breaks

Too much time in the same place? cycle your study environment

Not eating properly? set aside time to eat healthy meals at least 2 times a day

Not doing the things you love? schedule in time for that, e.g. during your long breaks

Not getting enough human interaction? make a study group

Too much negative thinking? adopt a positive mindset (you can always start small)

Not getting enough sleep? fix your sleep schedule

P.S. if any of you want to see the images in this post in better quality, click here (link to google drive)

#IFTTT #for the dreams i want to catch

0 notes