#and that makes you stress even more and beat yourself up because of deadlines

[adore-gregor]

How being sick messes with your mental health is sometimes worse than the illness itself honestly 😕

[nochepsicodelica]

NSFW

I think it would be so hard for Toji to deny you of anything when you're upset to the point of crying. You always act so passive about things that bother you, for him, because he rarely falls apart on you, so who are you to dump your emotions on him like that?

You come home from a really bad day at work that never allowed your headache to cease. Everybody was turning things in late, nobody was working to beat their deadlines—extended deadlines— and you were the one who took the hits for it all, as the leader of your group. You were one more mentioned member of your team away from snapping at your boss. Thankfully, you were allowed to go home after that talk.

Toji got home before you, so he had some time to wind down from his own stressful day, but the minute you walked in, he knew there was something wrong. You barely acknowledged him, a small smile being all you offered him, before you dragged yourself to your shared bedroom. No 'hi, baby' followed by you literally tossing yourself onto him, or even a 'wow, you're home before me?'

That didn't slide with him like you may have thought it would.

He got up after waiting two minutes for you to come back out. You never did, so he went after you, immediately spotting you face down on the bed. Your body was trembling, your shoulders jumping with your sobs. It was a strange sight, but it didn't make him feel any less concerned for you. He strode over to your side, resting a palm on your back. Your body was rigid with tension, your shoulders unable to drop because of it. He's sure you'll complain about the pain once you've calmed down a little more.

It was hard to get you to talk, but eventually you spilled every detail of what made you feel this way. Toji couldn't relate to your patience. If he were disciplined for other people's actions despite doing his job of trying to catch them up and reminding them to do things, he would be livid. You aren't like that, though. Things happen at work. Things that lure out frustration, anger, and overall feelings of wanting to implode and instead of leaving it there at work, where it belongs, you bring it home. You've clearly reached your breaking point.

"Want me to kill them?" He asks, feeling you shake your head against his chest in response. "Might just do it behind your back if you come home like this again, ma. Dead serious," he says, noting that you still haven't fully relaxed in his hold. "No reason you should ever be this stressed over people not doing their jobs. Fucking idiots, acting like children because they know it all weighs down on you."

You wanted to cry again at the way he tightened his hold on you while he defended you. You sucked it up and moved off of his chest, and when he looked down to see what you were doing, you kissed him. Your hand went beneath his shirt and felt up his warm, sculpted abdomen.

Clothes were removed and you now sat on his lap, his cock deep inside you. He knew you needed this despite how you were so distraught when he came into the room. He couldn't turn you down when you asked if he could be as close to you as he could. He knew you needed to release some steam, but he didn't expect it to be so calm. You laid your head on his shoulder, your arms draped around his neck while he held you close, his hands resting on your back.

Toji cooed at you, when you started sniffling, again. Slowly but surely, you were releasing all those bottled up emotions, your tears landing on the bare skin of his shoulder.

"Shh... it's alright. You don't have to think about anything, right now." He presses a kiss to your shoulder and then one to the side of your neck, before moving his hips a little, luring some quiet sighs from you. "Yeah, let me take care of you, mama. Just gotta breathe for me. That's all you gotta do, 'kay?"

You nod against his shoulder and allow him to bring both of you, soft, intimate, and unhurried pleasure. Your moans were light and airy, your whimpers soft and muffled by his skin.

Toji's orgasm rolled in before yours. His generous amount of release coated your walls, heavy and ragged breaths grazing your skin. In his head, he blames it on being able to become a safe space for you and his ability to provide protection. Your emotions were unconfined and you confided in him to soothe you. The mixture of physical intimacy and his comforting words was enough to calm you down. Your shoulders weren't tense anymore, and you were able to melt into his embrace.

Your orgasm had your body quivering against his. The sound of your rapid breathing was all you could release into his neck, your nails dragging across his shoulders through the intensity. He smiled softly, satisfied when you let out the smallest squeak.

"That's it, baby. Good girl. Just relax." He strokes your back, stilling his hips once the zenith of your pleasure passes.

Once the adrenaline dies down a little, you go back to rest your head on his shoulder, retightening your arms around him. Toji keeps stroking your back, his other hand resting on the back of your head.

"You're not going to work tomorrow. You have... let's see... food poisoning and you can't move without feeling like you're gonna blow chunks." He can feel your laughter against him, your shoulders jumping as a positive gesture compared to how he found you, luring a smile onto his face. "I'm not taking no for an answer either. We're both out tomorrow, 'cause I can't leave you here to die. Alright?"

"Okay," you mumble.

[mrsfancyferrari]

Potresti scrivere un driver x lettore dove mentre fanno l'amore e il lettore si addormenta perché lavora troppo e il pilota ride. please

Spero che tu stia bene e che l'inglese non sia la mia prima lingua

Sleep Good

Anon: You could write a driver x reader where while they make love and the reader falls asleep because they work too much and the driver laughs. please I hope you are well and that English is not my first language

Song: Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood

Author’s note: Hey anon! Also instead of one driver, I decided to do three since I made you wait for long! Please like, reblog and share this! <33

Word count: 6.6k

Charles Leclerc

─── ⋆ ⋅ ❤︎ ⋅ ⋆ ───

It had been a long week for you. You were exhausted from work, but you were looking forward to spending the evening with Charles, your boyfriend of two years. He was always so understanding and patient, and you loved him for that.

As you walked into your apartment, you could smell the delicious aroma of dinner cooking. Charles greeted you with a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey, love," he said. "I made your favorite - spaghetti carbonara."

You smiled back, feeling your shoulders relax. "You're a lifesaver," you said, collapsing onto the couch.

Charles sat down next to you and started rubbing your feet. "Rough day?" he asked.

You nodded, letting out a sigh. "The usual. Meetings, deadlines, more meetings. I'm beat."

Charles continued to massage your feet, working his way up to your calves. "Why don't you take a bath and relax?" he suggested. "I'll finish up dinner."

You hesitated for a moment, but the thought of a hot bath was too tempting to resist. "Okay, thanks," you said, standing up.

As you headed towards the bathroom, Charles called out, "Don't fall asleep in there!"

You chuckled and closed the door behind you. As you ran the water, you couldn't help but think about how lucky you were to have Charles in your life. He was always there for you, always supportive and loving.

After your bath, you felt refreshed and ready for dinner. Charles had set the table with candles and wine, and the spaghetti carbonara looked delicious. You sat down and started eating, chatting about your day and laughing at each other's jokes.

As the evening wore on, you could feel the tension in your body start to melt away. Charles poured you another glass of wine, and you leaned back in your chair, feeling content and happy.

Charles looked at you with a twinkle in his eyes. "You know what I've been thinking about all day?" he asked.

You raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

Charles leaned in closer. "Making love to you," he whispered.

You felt a shiver run down your spine. "Oh, really?" you said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Charles nodded. "Yes, really. I want to make you feel good, make you forget about work and all your stress."

You smiled, feeling your heart start to race. "Well, in that case, let's go to the bedroom," you said, standing up.

Charles followed you to the bedroom, and you started to undress each other. His hands felt warm and gentle as they explored your body, and you let out a soft moan as he kissed your neck.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his breath hot on your skin.

You felt a surge of desire run through you. "I want you," you said, pulling him closer.

Charles kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth. You could feel his hardness pressing against you, and you reached down to stroke him.

He let out a low growl. "You're so wet," he said, slipping a finger inside you.

You moaned, arching your back. "Yes, Charles, yes."

He started to move his finger in and out of you, slowly at first, then faster. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

"I want you inside me," you said, your voice hoarse with desire.

Charles didn't need any more encouragement. He positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed inside. You let out a sigh of pleasure as he filled you up.

He started to move, slowly at first, then faster. You wrapped your legs around him, meeting him thrust for thrust.

"Yes, Charles, yes," you said, your voice getting louder.

Charles reached down to stroke your clit, and you felt yourself start to tremble.

"I'm close," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Charles increased his pace, and you could feel yourself start to fall over the edge.

"Yes, yes, yes!" you cried out as you came, your body shuddering with pleasure.

Charles kept moving, drawing out your orgasm until he too reached his peak.

You collapsed onto the bed, exhausted but satisfied. Charles pulled out and lay down next to you, his arm around your waist.

You let out a contented sigh. "That was amazing," you said.

Charles laughed. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. You fell asleep during it, though."

You looked at him in surprise. "I did?"

He nodded. "Yeah, but it's okay. I know you've been working hard."

You smiled, feeling grateful for his understanding. "I love you," you said, snuggling closer.

Charles kissed the top of your head. "I love you too," he said, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

Charles lifted his head to look at you, a small smile on his lips.

"I'll let you off this time," he said, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "But next time, I expect you to stay awake."

You nodded, your eyes already growing heavy again.

"I'll try," you murmured, your body relaxing into the mattress.

Charles chuckled again, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close.

"Get some rest, love," he whispered, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'll be here when you wake up."

You mumbled something incoherent as you felt sleep begin to claim you, but the warmth of Charles's embrace kept you anchored in the moment.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," you managed to say, your voice barely audible.

Charles's fingers gently traced patterns on your back, soothing you further. "You won't ever have to find out," he replied softly, his voice full of promise. "We'll face everything together, just like we always have."

As you drifted closer to sleep, the comfort of his presence made everything else fade away. "Promise?" you asked, needing that final reassurance.

"Promise," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You felt a sense of peace settle over you, knowing that whatever challenges lay ahead, you wouldn't have to face them alone.

With that comforting thought, you finally let yourself surrender completely to the pull of sleep, secure in the knowledge that Charles would be there when you woke up. . . .

─── ⋆ ⋅ ❤︎ ⋅ ⋆ ───

Sir Lewis Hamilton

─── ⋆ ⋅ ♰ ⋅ ⋆ ───

The door creaks open as you step into the apartment, weary from another grueling day at work. You've been putting in long hours lately, and it's starting to take a toll on you. But as you make your way to the bedroom, you're greeted by the sight of Lewis, your loving boyfriend, waiting for you with a warm smile.

"Rough day, babe?" he asks, his voice soft and soothing.

You nod, collapsing onto the bed with a sigh. "I'm just so exhausted."

Lewis crawls onto the bed beside you, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. "Why don't you let me help you unwind?" he suggests, his fingers tracing small circles on your skin.

You look up at him, your eyes heavy with fatigue. "I don't know if I have the energy," you admit, but Lewis's smile only grows wider.

"Just relax," he murmurs, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. His tongue probes your mouth, exploring and tasting, and you can't help but respond to his touch. Your exhaustion begins to fade, replaced by a growing desire.

"I've missed you," you whisper, your hands reaching up to tangle in his hair.

"I've missed you too," Lewis replies, his lips moving down to your neck. He nibbles and licks at your skin, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Your breath hitches as his teeth graze your earlobe, his tongue darting out to soothe the sting.

"Lewis..." you moan, your body arching towards his.

He chuckles, his hands sliding under your shirt to caress your breasts. "That's right, baby. Let me take care of you."

His thumbs brush over your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. You gasp, your back bowing off the bed as he continues to tease and torment you.

"Do you like that?" Lewis murmurs, his lips moving down to your chest. He licks and sucks at your nipples, his hands still kneading and caressing your breasts.

"Yes, oh yes," you breathe, your hips grinding against the bed.

Lewis's hand slides down your body, his fingers tracing the waistband of your pants. "May I?" he asks, his eyes meeting yours.

You nod, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Lewis smiles, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric of your pants. He strokes your clit, his touch light and teasing.

"You're so wet," he murmurs, his lips moving to your ear. "Do you want me inside you, baby?"

"Yes, please," you beg, your hips bucking against his hand.

Lewis chuckles, his fingers sliding lower to probe your entrance. "You're so tight," he says, his voice low and husky. "I need to prepare you."

He withdraws his fingers, his tongue replacing them as he licks and sucks at your clit. You cry out, your fingers tangling in his hair as he drives you closer and closer to the edge. Just as you're about to tip over, he slides a finger inside you, crooking it to hit your G-spot.

"Oh God, Lewis!" you scream, your orgasm washing over you in waves of pleasure.

Lewis continues to fuck you with his fingers, his tongue still lapping at your clit. You're sensitive, your hips twitching with every touch.

"Please, Lewis," you beg, your voice hoarse. "I need you inside me."

Lewis withdraws his fingers, his cock taking their place. He slides in slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size. Once he's fully seated, he begins to thrust, his hips moving in a steady rhythm.

"Is this what you need, baby?" he asks, his voice strained.

"Yes, oh yes," you moan, your hips meeting his with every thrust.

Lewis's hand reaches down to stroke your clit, his fingers circling and teasing. You're close, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

"Come for me, baby," Lewis growls, his thrusts becoming harder and faster.

You cry out, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. Lewis follows you over the edge, his cock pulsing inside you as he fills you with his cum.

You collapse against the bed, your body spent and sated. Lewis withdraws, lying down beside you and pulling you into his arms.

"I love you," he murmurs, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss.

"I love you too," you reply, your eyes drifting closed as you fall asleep, safe and content in his arms.

The next morning, you wake up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of bacon sizzling in the kitchen. Lewis is already up, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants, as he prepares breakfast for the both of you.

"Good morning, beautiful," he says with a warm smile, handing you a cup of coffee.

"Good morning," you reply, taking a sip of the rich, aromatic coffee. "You didn't have to do all this," you add, gesturing to the sizzling bacon and scrambled eggs on the stove.

Lewis chuckles, his eyes sparkling with affection. "I wanted to. Besides, after last night, I thought you deserved a little pampering." His words bring a flush to your cheeks, the memories of the previous night still vivid in your mind.

You walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on his chest. "Thank you," you whisper, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "For everything."

Lewis kisses the top of your head, his hand gently stroking your back. "Anything for you," he murmurs.

"Now, let's enjoy our breakfast and make the most of this beautiful morning." You smile up at him, knowing that with Lewis, every moment feels like a cherished treasure.

He then cupped your face with one hand and tilted your head to kiss you deeply, his lips conveying a tenderness that made your heart swell. The kiss was unhurried, filled with a promise of many more mornings like this.

His hand moved from your back to wrap gently around your neck, his thumb resting under your chin to tilt your head up. The kiss intensified, the tenderness deepening into a passionate embrace.

You felt a surge of desire, the memory of last night's intimacy blending seamlessly with the present moment. His grip on your neck was firm yet loving, a reminder of the connection you shared.

When the kiss finally broke, Lewis rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm and mingling with yours. "I never want to let you go," he whispered, his thumb stroking your jawline.

You gazed into his eyes, seeing the depth of his feelings mirrored in his gaze. "You won't have to," you replied softly, your fingers tracing the contours of his chest.

With a final, lingering kiss, you both turned your attention to the breakfast, savoring not just the food but the profound bond that made every moment together so extraordinary.

You both settled at the small kitchen table, the aroma of breakfast filling the cozy space. As you ate, you shared stories and dreams, laughter punctuating your conversation.

The love between you was palpable, a comforting presence that made everything else fade into the background.

With Lewis by your side, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, stronger and more in love with each passing day. . . .

─── ⋆ ⋅ ♰ ⋅ ⋆ ───

Carlos Sainz

─── ⋆ ⋅☆⋅ ⋆ ───

The door creaks open as you enter your dimly lit apartment, weary from another grueling day at work. The clock on the wall reads 10:36 PM, but it may as well be midnight. You've been burning the candle at both ends for so long now that you can barely remember what a full night's sleep feels like.

As you trudge toward the bedroom, you notice a figure standing by the window, the soft glow from the streetlights illuminating his chiseled features. It's Carlos, your boyfriend who moved in with you few months ago. Despite your exhaustion, you can't help but feel a spark of intrigue as you take in his brooding presence.

"Rough day?" Carlos asks, his deep voice resonating through the room.

"You have no idea," you reply, collapsing onto the edge of the bed. "I'm so tired I could fall asleep standing up."

Carlos approaches you, his eyes filled with concern. "You need to take care of yourself, you know. Working too hard will only lead to burnout."

"I know," you murmur, your eyelids growing heavy. "But it's hard to say no when there's so much to do."

Carlos' expression softens as he reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. "You deserve a break, and I'm going to make sure you get one."

Your heart skips a beat as Carlos leans in to press his lips against yours, igniting a fire within you that you hadn't realized was there. His kiss is tender yet insistent, coaxing you to surrender to the moment.

As the two of you undress each other, your hands explore every inch of Carlos' muscular physique, marveling at the strength you feel beneath your fingertips. Carlos touch is equally reverent, his fingers tracing a path from your collarbone to your breasts, where they linger, teasing your nipples into hard peaks.

With a soft sigh, you allow yourself to be guided down onto the bed, Carlos' body covering yours like a warm, protective blanket. His lips find yours once more, his tongue delving deep into your mouth as his hand drifts lower, cupping your mound through the fabric of your panties.

"You're so wet," Carlos murmurs against your lips, his fingers sliding beneath the damp material to find your slick folds. "Do you want me, mi amor?"

"Yes," you gasp, your hips bucking upward as Carlos' fingers begin to explore your most intimate spaces. "Oh, yes, I want you."

Carlos' laughter is soft and warm against your ear. "Then you shall have me, but not before you're thoroughly prepared."

He begins to kiss a path down your body, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire in their wake. When he reaches your navel, he pauses to swirl his tongue inside, eliciting a low moan from your throat.

Your breath hitches as Carlos' mouth finds your clit, his tongue flicking expertly against the sensitive bundle of nerves. He teases you relentlessly, his lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to drive you to the brink of ecstasy.

Just as you feel the first waves of orgasm begin to wash over you, Carlos withdraws, leaving you panting and writhing on the bed.

"Not yet, mi amor," he says, his voice husky with desire. "I want to be inside you when you come."

Carlos positions himself between your legs, his cock poised at your entrance. He looks into your eyes, seeking permission, and you nod, unable to find your voice.

Slowly, agonizingly so, Carlos begins to push inside you, filling you completely. You gasp at the sensation, your body trembling with pleasure as he begins to move within you.

The two of you find a rhythm, your bodies moving in perfect harmony as Carlos' thrusts grow more urgent. You can feel another orgasm building deep within you, your muscles clenching around Carlos' cock as he drives you ever closer to the edge.

With a final, desperate thrust, Carlos sends you tumbling over the edge, your screams of pleasure mingling with his own as the two of you reach the pinnacle of ecstasy together.

As the aftershocks of your orgasm subside, you become aware of Carlos' laughter, warm and rich against your ear.

"You fell asleep," he says, his voice filled with amusement.

You open your eyes, a blush creeping up your cheeks as you realize he's right. "I'm sorry," you murmur, embarrassed. "I guess I really am more tired than I thought."

Carlos brushes a strand of hair from your face, his expression softening. "It's okay, Amor. You need your rest, and I'll be here when you wake up."

As you drift off to sleep, safe and content in Carlos' arms, you can't help but feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, you've found the one person who can help you find balance in your chaotic life.

When you wake up, the first thing you feel is a profound sense of peace, a rare and precious feeling in your normally hectic life.

The warmth of Carlos' embrace is a comforting reminder that you are not alone, and a smile creeps across your face as you recall the tenderness of the night before. For a moment, all your worries seem distant, replaced by the simple joy of being with someone who truly cares for you.

As you lay there, basking in the morning light, you can't help but think about what the future holds for you and Carlos.

"Carlos," you begin hesitantly, "do you ever think about what comes next for us?" He looks at you, a thoughtful expression crossing his face, and then he smiles gently, pulling you closer.

"I think about you quitting your job so you can be with me all the time," he mutters, placing you on top of him, his hands gently resting on your hips.

You blink in surprise, the idea both thrilling and daunting. "You want me to quit my job?" you ask, a mixture of excitement and uncertainty in your voice. "I love what I do, but..."

Carlos cuts you off with a soft kiss, his eyes locking onto yours. "I know, Amor. I just want us to have more time together. Your job takes so much out of you, and I see how it wears you down. Maybe there's a way for you to still do what you love, but with more balance, more happiness. We can figure it out together, one step at a time."

His words fill you with a sense of hope and possibility, and as you lie there in his arms, you realize that perhaps the future doesn't have to be as stressful as the past.

Warmth spreads through you at his suggestion, the idea of finding a better balance resonating deeply within your heart. His support and understanding make you feel cherished, and for the first time in a long while, you see a path forward where both your career and personal happiness can coexist.

"Thank you, Carlos," you whisper, resting your head against his chest, feeling a profound sense of gratitude and love. . . .

─── ⋆ ⋅☆⋅ ⋆ ───

[giuliadesu]

𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 | bang chan

kpop | giuliadesu

fem!reader ⍛ fluff, hurt/comfort; mentions of stress, anxiety ⍛ 4.4k w

red lights by bang chan & hyunjin

chan was tired. the rehearsals for the comeback, the stress from the company, the deadlines for the songs creeping up on him… it was  just too much, and he was not sure for how long he would (and could) be able to handle all of this before snapping.

it was late, well past the time they should have been done with dance practices. looking at the sweaty yet delighted faces of his friends, he almost felt bad: happiness and joy should be flowing through his veins, not annoyance and fatigue. despite the thought, he couldn’t help the feelings cruising through his mind. at that point, he wasn’t even paying attention to what the other guys were saying. chan was constantly lost in his own thoughts and he stopped in his tracks only when they passed by one the practice rooms.

it was supposed to be empty, considering the late hour, yet there was music coming out of it — music he knew all too well because he wrote it. 

that was enough to catch his attention, considering his group was the last one to leave the area of the building dedicated to the practice rooms, and all the other dancers that trained with them went home already. chan let his teammates know he’d stop by his studio and that he’d see them tomorrow, then curiously leaned against the glass door that was left ajar.

and what he saw completely captivated him.

red pointe shoes were delicately gliding against the floor, ever so elegant and gentle; strong yet thin legs moved flawlessly, creating a cadenza of life that permeated the room; toned arms accompanied the movement of the body, swimming through air as if it was the only thing they were meant to do.

but when his gaze finally lingered over your face, chan became even more surprised: he knew you. two hours ago you were dancing with them as if there was no tomorrow, giving your all as you always did during practices and rehearsals alike. how could you have so much strength left in you? all the dancers were extremely tired, and rightfully so! the amount of effort they put into training before shows and shootings was no lighter nor different.

yet, right in front of his amazed gaze, you were dancing without a care in the world. your spatial awareness allowed you to move around with your pretty eyes closed, a choreography known by heart and probably practiced thousands of times before.

and in that precise instant, chan knew what was missing from him: what started as the dream of a lifetime, and the once-in-a-lifetime possibility to make a career out of it, now turned into a mindless routine; deadlines piling up, muscles aching for a break — the freedom he longed for seemed so far away.

on a slightly happier note, he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful and breathtaking you looked, while you gently graced the floor with the elegance of your steps. and seeing you perform your magic on a song he wrote and that was so special and peculiar, made his heart skip a beat.

when the music ended, you collapsed onto yourself as the final step in that intricate pattern of movements, so foreign to the usual style he got accustomed to seeing you dance in. it was only in that moment that he allowed himself to reveal his presence. moving into the room, he clapped his hands, a bright smile spreading along his features.

“wow, hey, that was absolutely beautiful.”

the surprised gasp that left your mouth made him smile even more.

“chan! what are you doing here? you should be resting, today was rough.”

ah, you were always so sweet to them. he liked to think of you as a close friend, especially after all the years spent working together, starting before their debut through all their shows, comebacks and shootings; those choreographies wouldn’t exist without you and your team, after all.

“hey, the same applies to you as well, young lady — it’s not like you worked any less hard.”

the gentle banter went on for a little while, and in the meantime you collected your things and switched your pointe shoes for the baggy pants you usually wore to practice. you were surprised to realize that chan was waiting for you, despite the tiredness evident on his features.

since he seemed to have a soft spot for you, it was not uncommon for his friends to ask for your help with coaxing him into healthier and less stressful habits and, even if today was not the case, your mind was already set on trying to convince him to go back to his apartment instead of his studio at the dorms.

he once told you that he bought a very small apartment with an equally tiny balcony that overlooked the han river and, coincidentally, you lived in the same area, just one street over — clearly, this played in your favor when trying to convince him to leave the jype building for the night.

“ramen by the river?”

one hour later, you were sitting on the banks by the han river, a cup of instant ramen warming your hands. it was not a strange occurrence: more often than not, when either of you needed someone to talk and vent to outside of working hours, this is where it would happen. considering that it was well past one in the morning, both of you decided to simply forego wearing your masks.

the concrete bench was cold from where chan was sitting cross-legged in front of you, yet it was a very grounding sensation — especially if compared to the heat inside the dancing rooms.

“red lights, uh?” 

the blush on your cheeks became evident, and he was careful enough to hide his smirk with the ramen cup.

“sorry, i should’ve asked you if it was okay for me to create a choreography on that… and i shouldn’t have been practicing it at the studio.”

you were fumbling with your hands while trying to keep them hidden in your lap, ramen forgotten by your side along with the konbini wooden chopsticks. brows furrowed, chan gently grabbed your hands — they were so small and cold when in his own palms! his eyes searched for yours while rubbing soothing circles with his thumb over the soft expanse of your skin.

“are you kidding? that was the coolest thing i’ve ever seen!” 

his eyes turned into shining crescent moons, dimples on full display as his lips turned into a joyous smile. the fact that you didn’t retract your hands made him feel better about his actions. for once in his life, he decided to follow the quickened beating of his heart, instead of the cold rationality provided by his brain.

he wanted to experience freedom again, and wanted to do that with you. coming to that conclusion felt surreal, yet so right all at the same time.

with that reckless resolution engraved in his mind, he decided to shoot his shot, while walking you home from your little nocturnal escapade. he bundled you up in his black hoodie, as you forgot yours at the studio, and couldn’t help but notice how you literally melted in the soft fabric.

“so…”

chan’s voice was soft, vowel dragged out more than necessary. when the entrance of your apartment building came into view, he knew it was time. he shoved his hands in the pockets of the black joggers he picked for practice, turning to face you and giving you his full attention.

“would you mind if i danced with you? while you do that breathtaking choreography?”

“what?!”

“you just looked so carefree and beautiful! i’ve never seen someone create something so unique over that song. i want to experience that freedom with you — if you’re okay with that, of course.”

you were absolutely at a loss for words. the bang chan, the man you had the fattest crush on ever since you first met him seven years ago — he gave you his hoodie, called you beautiful and said he wanted to dance with you.

your eyes fell on his right hand. from its place in the pocket, it had now moved over his abdomen; you knew he was nervous, it was some sort of unconscious behavior. just, this time he didn’t need to be, not around you.

with the sweetest smile across your features, you took his hand in your smaller ones, barely emerging from the sleeves of the hoodie.

rising to the tip of your toes, you placed the softest kiss over his cheek, resting your lips on the skin near his mouth for a bit longer compared to what would have been considered appropriate for friends. a gentle whisper was murmured a mere breath apart from him, gazes locking into one another as if that was their sole scope.

“i would love to dance with you, chris.”

chan was smitten. he was absolutely, undeniably, incredibly, atrociously whipped for you.

it was not much of a surprise: he fell for you the second you entered jype together as trainees - him as an idol, you as a dancer. but back then you were both too young, and too focused on trying to make a career out of your dreams to have time to focus on something like romance and love.

then, when he debuted, he quickly became overwhelmed by all the responsibilities he had towards his members and stays. he knew you deserved better, someone who could be with you all the time; that didn’t stop him from composing love songs with you in mind. after all, he spent almost every day with you and your team, so it was not like his feelings ever had a chance of wavering. seeing you grow and dance and becoming the most beautiful version of yourself was enough for him.

or so he thought.

after witnessing you dance on red lights, something just clicked: maybe he was tired, maybe he realised he couldn’t keep writing love songs about you without freely expressing his feelings, maybe he just wanted to know if he had a chance with you.

in the months following that night, chan tried his best to be closer to you, and not only when you had your nightly rendezvous in the studio, no — you had a key to his apartment and he had one to yours. his pantry started filling with your favourite foods and snacks, his wardrobe sported some of your comfy clothes and a basket in his bathroom held your skincare routine and your shower products. he almost cried when he once spent the night at your apartment after a rough day and realised you had done the same for him.

he loved watching you dancing as he played the piano for you. seeing you nap on the couch in his studio after practice, tucked in in one of his hoodies. hearing you ramble as you ate a midnight snack on his balcony, always with a smile on his face as he caressed your calves resting on his lap. knowing he had you in his life and never taking that for granted.

chan felt his heart grow a size too big when he started noticing how much you loved his closest friends: on days when practice ran for longer hours, you would always have a tupperware of peeled peaches with a pinch of sugar for him and felix, and a chicken breast sandwich for changbin. when han was going trough dark days, you’d be next to him, silently yet acting as a grounding presence for the boy. hyunjin and minho knew they could always go to you to talk or have a practice buddy if they wanted to rehearse their choreographies a bit more; seungmin and jeongin tried to rope you in on their schemes and pranks, especially when they were at chan’s expenses.

but, selfishly, what he loved the most was noticing how some of his habits rubbed off on you. sometimes you’d peek into his studio, tapping lightly on his shoulder; by the time he had turned around, he would be met by your arms spread wide and your gentle voice asking “big hug?” with a sweet smile on your face. his lips would automatically turn upside down, dimples on full display for you, as his arms wrapped around you. or when you would close your eyes with a smile when eating something you liked.

chan wasn’t sure how to exactly tackle the topic, so for now he just basked in the comfort you gifted him, never expecting anything in return.

you hated seeing chris crying. it didn’t matter if he was on tour on the other side of the world, or just a street over — whenever you spotted his eyes becoming red, your heart would shrink in pain.

it had been a long day. winter finally arrived, bringing cold days and a foggy weather. chan sent you a message to tell you that he had a meeting with the company and then he would go boxing a bit, so you didn’t have to wait for him at the studio; before going, he didn’t forget to peck your forehead, as he always did.

you couldn’t help but worry a little, when he had to go and have those meetings. something in his behaviour would change, as if he expected to be scolded for something or to have even more limitations forced upon himself — although he would accept them without complaints, so long his friends could keep reaching for their dream. the uneasy feeling you had wouldn’t leave you, so you opted to send him a simple message of a black heart, a gentle reminder you were with him every step of the way.

a couple of hours later, the clock of your phone showed it was almost midnight. chris still hadn’t answered you, and the guys told you that they hadn’t seen him ever since he went for the meeting; even their manager was in the dark of what was happening.

the weather looked like it would start pouring rain any second now, and you didn’t know if you wanted to go the the company and check if by any chance he was still in the studio, or if maybe you should give him a call just to be sure he was alright.

as you were about to leave the comfort of your couch, you felt your phone vibrate with a new notification. it was from chan. “i’ll be over in 10, is that okay?”

it didn’t matter how many times it had happened before, having chris silently crying on your chest was something that destroyed you. he was completely soaked, the downpour caught up to him as he was on his way to your apartment. sitting on the edge of your bathtub, he had his strong arms around your waist, pulling you even closer in between his legs; you gently threaded your fingers through his damp hair, pressing soft kisses to the crown of his head — trying in any way to alleviate the pain he was feeling. an eerie silence settled in the room, occasionally broken by his soft sniffles muffled by your (his, if you were to be completely honest) hoodie. after minutes that felt like hours, you moved a little to cup his face between your hands. red, swollen eyes looked at you, tears carving a path over the inhuman amount of foundation they forced him to wear.

“let’s remove your makeup, okay?”

with gentle movements you pressed the cotton pad over his honeyed skin, finally removing all those layers of powder and foundation that covered it. you were even softer around the eyes, considering they were already red from crying. then you lifted his face, bending down a little to place the lightest of kisses at the corner of his lips.

“take a warm shower, i’ll put your spare clothes in the dryer and get started on some hot chocolate.”

at that he hugged you even tighter, before allowing you to leave the room. a couple of minutes later, the sound of dripping water filled the apartment.

regardless of the circumstances, there was always something special in having chris laying on top of you with his head in the crook of your neck. hair still damp, he let his hands sneak under your hoodie, so to rest on your soft skin. his breath was tickling your skin, and you pulled him even closer to you when you felt he was ready to speak.

“chan’s room is no more.”

a soft whisper against your pulse.

“apparently i’m not doing enough of what they want, so they’re taking stays away from me… i don’t know what to do anymore.”

that was not what you were expecting. you were furious to say the least, but anger wouldn’t solve anything. your fingers found their rightful place in his hair, gently massaging his scalp. what could you say to make him feel better? you wanted him to smile again, to see him happy.

“it’s not your fault, chris. i know it hurts, but stays are always with you! they’re not gonna let something that is out of your control hinder the love and admiration they hold for you.”

he finally moved his head from his comfort spot, hovering over you. the duvet slipped from his shoulders, revealing the large tank top he used to sleep when at your place. his eyes never left yours, and he just nuzzled into your palms when you cupped his cheeks once again.

“damn, what would i do without you?”

stroking his cheekbones, you just gave him a small yet genuine smile.

“even if the world is coming down, i won’t let you drown. even if you start to lose your hold, i won’t let you go.”

the night was spent cuddling, with chan that finally gathered enough courage to tell you everything that was troubling him. you listened, providing gentle words of comfort and soft kisses over his collarbones. you understood his anguish and the pain he felt when the company decided to take away from him one of the activities he cherished the most; it was a way to keep a connection with the people that made their dream possible, to <make sure they knew they weren’t just numbers on a youtube video or sales for a chart.

rain kept falling well into the wee hours of the morning, a perfect backdrop for the vulnerable side the wonderful man in front of you decided to showcase. his dark hair kept covering his eyes, and you would promptly move them, not wanting to miss those beautiful eyes for even one second.

that night, under the covers of your small bed, something clicked. the thin line separating friendship and love started to fade — and maybe, just maybe, it would allow you both to stop at a red light and reflect on your feelings.

green. going to bed at 5 am after pulling an all-nighter to work on the new album.

red. waking up with you on the couch next to him, cuddled into his side, the night spent doing a studio ghibli marathon.

green. producing, training, practicing — repeat.

red. a dinner in a cozy, family-run restaurant with both teams; everyone was cheerful, and chris was right next to you, feeding you bits from his plate.

green. vocal training, more training, more rehearsals, makeup tests.

red. your tiny hands massaging his sore shoulders after he took a shower, almost falling asleep on your thighs at the pleasant sensation.

green. comeback photos, packing outfits for the upcoming tour, interview after interview, appointment after appointment.

red. dancing with you in the studio, then eating a cup of ramen by the han river — where it all began.

green. loading the van for the trip to the airport, doing last minute checks; you giving felix a small piece of paper, with the promise of handing it to chan on the last day of tour, when the closing piece of the concert will be playing.

red. the last night before leaving for a three-months-long tour, in his studio; singing youtiful together, over an old mock track that had only chan’s vocals on it; looking into each other’s eyes, time stopping.

the last thing chris wanted to do on the last concert of the tour was crying. 

yet there he was, sitting on the floor, youtiful playing in the background, stays singing together. they were not singing, as they had prepared a surprise video to thank all the people who allowed them to reach for their dreams.

it always felt surreal, playing in seoul. after all, it was were everything started, where they met one another, where they found a new family and gave a new meaning to the word brotherhood. and this was not only related to the eight of them, oh no: their managers, your dance team that created all of their choreographies, the staff they saw every day — that counted as family as well, helping and supporting them after all these years.

chan had many reasons for breaking down on stage: the road leading to this comeback and this tour had been bumpy to say the least; they renewed their contracts with jype, and for once the leader in him decided to come out during the talks, bargaining for better conditions and an incredible amount of freedom, from production of their albums to shootings and what they were allowed to say in interviews. he couldn’t believe he did it, and the confirmation arrived just minutes before they were supposed to go on stage, providing them with a new rush of adrenaline and a new significance to this last concert.

then felix came to him, just as the first notes of youtiful started echoing in the arena; he gave him a hug, and gave him the little piece of paper he had safeguarded for the last three months.

“if you are reading this, it means little sunshine succeeded in keeping it safe from prying eyes — yay! youtiful is playing just about now, and you’re probably sitting on the stage, a bit out of the way; i bet your eyes are red and you’re fighting back the tears. let them fall, let them ruin your makeup and show your emotions. even if you’re the leader, you’re allowed to be vulnerable, just like you did that night in my arms. i always loved the differences between stage-chan and normal-chan, although i love both versions of you equally; you are fierce yet vulnerable, flirty yet shy, a perfectionist afraid of mistakes. you’re a beautiful contradiction, you know that? i’m so proud of you. i haven’t seen you in three months (we really need to tackle your very unhealthy work habits — we could’ve facetimed a couple of times!), but i know you’ve been giving it your all, as you always do. take a second to look around you: the kids are either crying or hugging one another, and the stays behind you are singing with smiles on their faces. does it really seem like you disappointed someone? i love you, chris, more than what would be considered appropriate for friends; and every time you perform and show yourself i am reminded why i fell for the cute australian guy that joined jype almost ten years ago. feel proud of that little demon inside of you! be the person you were writing about in youtiful, be the little star that can both shine and blink. okay, this is supposed to be just a little note, but all i’ve written is true! big hug — i’m proud of you and i love you ❤︎”

smiling through tears, a new wave of excitement overcame him. he needed to see you, hug you, kiss you.

an hour later he was in the lobby of jype, waiting for you to pick up the phone, pacing back and forth. one ring, two rings — at the third your voice finally echoed through the speakers.

“chris! sorry, i couldn’t find my phone.”

“i cannot breathe without you being right by my side, i’ll die. so can you please come over closer? hold me tight, right now?”

he knew he was being daring, he knew you might say no or hang up the call; and the amount of time you were taking to answer him was giving him a panic attack. yet, when you finally replied, he could feel the smile in your voice.

“wait for me.”

when he reached home, he just had the time to leave his backpack by the couch before he heard someone timidly knocking on the door. his brain went on autopilot: he swung it open, pulled you into his arms and hugged you as if his life depended on it. three months without hugging you, without hearing your giggles, without sharing his life with you.

“i’m sorry it took me so long to realise it, i’m sorry you had to wait, i’m so sorry-”

his rambling was interrupted by you cupping is cheeks, standing on the tip of your toes, and placing a soft kiss over his lips. then, a whisper against those fluffy clouds.

“it’s okay. if it meant loving you, i would’ve waited until the end of time.”

chan felt like he could cry again. a tsunami of emotions washed over him, and in the spur of the moment he picked you up and spun around, beaming at the sound of your laugh. then he collapsed over his black couch, the one where you spent so many nights cuddling together, your weight over his.

“i love you.”

a peck on your lips.

“i love you so much.”

another peck.

“thank you for dancing into my life with the gentleness of your steps, thank you for being there for me when i was at my worst, thank you for loving me.”

one more kiss and a tighter hug sealed that magic moment. giggles filled the room, as chris felt like a child who was receiving his favourite candy, discovering the amazing sensation of being loved; the soft touch of your fingers through his longer hair acquired a new meaning, you nuzzling into his neck became his favorite thing, holding your hand with fingers intertwined was suddenly his new lockscreen.

red lights became his favourite song, the epitome of his happiness, ready to tackle a new season with you by his side as soon as the red light turned green.

© giuliadesu. please do not copy, translate, use in videos or reupload on other platforms and sites. it is strictly forbidden to feed any part of my content to ai.

[teabutmakeitazure]

Zuri's Declassified University Survival Guide

This is a post about survival tips in university (undergraduate), especially if you're an international student living alone in a different country in this circumstance. I will be adding onto this later on if there's something I want to add, so keep an eye out for update reblogs of this I guess.

General Tips:

it's okay to make mistakes. you are here to learn and grow. no one is perfect, especially in the first and second year of their studies. those are mandatory experimental years. you're not expected to get magically mature and perfect when you get to university (or college for you americans). be kind to yourself and analyse your mistakes instead of beating yourself over them.

don't bother too much about your wardrobe. just wear whatever's comfortable. you might think people care but no one does. more than half of the people at campus will be in sweats or pyjamas and if someone IS dressed up, they're probably arts kids or business majors and they're the ones with the least workload (yes i am dissing you guys I've seen your workloads stop lying).

put yourself in uncomfortable social situations. yes i said that. the only reason i somewhat learnt to make small talk and learnt to talk to strangers is because I go to every single social event that I can. it's not necessary to make friends in all of them. just talk to people, exchange contacts, laugh while the event lasts even if you never see them again. this is how you survive in the lonely dorm life. and if you make an actual good friend? amazing! it paid off. even if it didn't you'll probably network and build rapport and have acquaintances from different majors.

if you're an ethnic minority, don't be afraid. I cannot stress this enough. don't be afraid to be there and take up space. you are there because you deserve to be and qualified. sure, it sucks at times because a good amount of people won't interact with you because you're 'different' but the international students will and trust me they're the coolest bunch to be friends with (I have 0 such friends so far). most times you will have to take the initiative to talk and sometimes they won't respond or worse flat out ignore you but don't let that get you down. just don't interact with them again. the world is big. not everyone will like you and accept you. find the ones that will.

eggs and milk are your best friend. a glass of milk everyday and 2 eggs. make that a staple. eggs are also very versatile for recipes. more on that in the recipes section. also yoghurt. a smol cup of yoghurt everyday too and nuts whenever you can buy them.

always have a few pack of instant noodles at home. sometimes you have deadlines or you forgot to cook or need a quick dinner because there's so much to do and you didn't get groceries. always keep them in stock. they're a quick fix for food. I'm not promoting them for frequent dinner but it's better than starving. just eat the noodles man. there's already so much shit to keep track of just eat the damn noodles.

incorporate veggies into everything food. they're good for you. if you're like me and don't like veggies, experiment with different recipes and find the one you like best. one good way is fried rice or rice with mushrooms, veggies, and meat in the rice cooker (I don't own a rice cooker when I'm writing this). just eat your veggies and thank me later. if you don't wanna cut them up, get a pack of frozen veggies. it's better than nothing. baby steps.

meal plan. if I don't plan my entire week's food on sunday night, I do it the night before for the next day. eat out as less as you can. homemade is better even if you're a horrible cook. practice makes perfect and you'll be grateful for learning a few basic cooking skills along with your degree later on. cooking your own food also gives you the liberty to add more veggies or save money.

treat yourself to stuff sometimes. yes you deserve it even if you don't meet your goals. you're trying. be kind to yourself. get that boba.

study everything done the week by that week's weekend. do the day's content that same day and don't lag behind. utilise reading week and read. don't slack off please I'm begging you. I'll even get on my knees if I have to.

you're gonna miss home and it sucks. yes you will be having your fourth mental breakdown of the week on a wednesday night and you will be alone or hiding under the blanket as your roommate is asleep. you're gonna have to tough it out soldier. I see you and I feel you. it gets easier with time and when you're doing better, you'll feel relieved for toughing through. it's so lonely sometimes and it sucks but it's worth the pain. don't lose hope.

seniors are your friends. they will give you forbidden knowledge for free. from hidden places with good food or convenience things or just life advice exclusive to your institute, they have it all. they're also generally very friendly so don't be afraid to interact with them.

annoy the living hell out of your professor during office hours if need be and utilise the student help room for help. your tutors will be happy to help you so don't be shy to ask for help. they will appreciate you coming to them, trust me. as for your professor, they're lonely people. go to office hours if you need to, chat, ask them what you need. they'll appreciate your presence and happily help you.

the security guards and cleaning staff will be witnesses to your worst states (freshly out of bed or haven't showered in 2 days) but they don't care. they're just happy to be of service and have you around. be kind to them. greet them whenever you pass by.

sometimes coffee is bad.

if your classes start at noon or later, get an hour of exercise in the morning at around 8 or 9 am. the serotonin that will hit you will be unreal. trust me.

make local friends. they're cool people and friendly and very helpful and accommodating. I may be biased but it's true.

being a student helper, student tutor, or a research assistant looks good on your resume and helps you win more scholarships.

put headphones on when in public if you don't want to end up talking to someone you might bump into. it works.

your body also has rights. treat it with care. don't abuse it. nourish it. you should take care of your body like you would a loved one. feed it good things, clean it everyday, and so on. when you feel good by taking care of yourself, you still do better and feel more confident. wash your hair with a set schedule and use good products.

make your wardrobe easier. hang your usual shirts and maybe wear the one in front each day, the previous day's being hung in the back or in the laundry basket. it saves time.

there's no shame in not having stuff. I still don't own a proper laundry basket it all goes into an IKEA bag. you live in a dorm, not a house. sometimes not having every single kind of furniture or accessory isn't bad. don't compare your setup to others. if it's convenient, clean, and homey, it's good. you don't need those expensive lights or those expensive posters to make it seem cool. what you have and what you may collect among the way is enough.

notes on paper are better than laptop or ipad

take breaks. be kind to yourself. it is you for yourself. treat yourself with love.

manage your time by designating time blocks to a certain task. it might not always work but it will help create some discipline in the routine.

having a set everyday routine helps. you don't have to think what to do, thus saving you brain power.

use a semester planner for deadlines and important information. it's useful. I highly recommend. I also have a template if anyone wants.

write down your thoughts, what's bothering you, your feelings, everything on a piece of paper or journal at the end of the day. it'll help process your emotions and you won't have to let the thoughts and emotions fester inside you, slowly simmering and coming to a boil. remember, you are your best friend.

Recipes to help you stay afloat (they're all quick and easy dw):

right off the bat I want to say boiled jasmine rice with sunny side up eggs. you drizzle a pinch of salt onto the yolk, break it over the rice, mix it with the rice and eat it and it's just *chef's kiss*. definitely a comfort food and a very easy quick dinner.

a lot of these I found while scrolling through instagram and some are from when I was trying to lose weight. hope they're helpful!

oyakodon

one pot rice cooker rice with veggies

veggie and meat single serve in one pot

chicken wrap (primarily for weight loss I think)

chicken gyros (this guy makes amazing food)

minced meat weight loss meal prep

chickpeas (chana masala. this shit is bussin i swear)

something tomato + onion + egg

one pot veggie rice (recommended)

chicken shawarma (not dorm friendly cooking but looks delicious)

egg sandwich in one pan

potato marraka (THIS IS SO GOOD)

one pot rice cooker with meat and veggies

daal

chicken and rice

pizza style chicken wrap

five different chicken marinades for meal prep

one pot biryani

takeout style egg fried rice

rice cooker carbonara

one pot yoghurt curry chicken rice

weight loss chicken shawarma

healthier mac and cheese

chicken fajita

chicken tikka masala crunch tacos

one pan braised eggs

air fryer garlic bread pizza

another veggie and rice in rice cooker

fried rice recipe

hainanese inspired chicken rice in rice cooker

tomato orzo(?)

creamy tomato pasta

tomato and egg rice

mushroom sauce (can be eaten with rice)

creamy tomato tortellini

grilled cheese sandwich

[wreckedandpolemic]

white gold pregnancy scare blurb? 😍

your first pregnancy scare (i say first because let’s be real the two of you fuck raw and like rabbits) happens when you’ve been together about a year, not living together per se, but something close to it. you’re up to your neck in final deadlines for uni, and the last thing you need is your parents breathing down your neck for an entire month.

when your period is late, you aren’t that worried about it at first; you’re stressed, not sleeping super well, it happens. but then it gets to two weeks, and you start to panic, and random, freak sickness throws your world completely off-kilter. matty wakes to find you crying on the bathroom floor, in a total, uncontrolled downward spiral.

“oh, darling,” he murmurs, approaching you cautiously. “what is it? what’s wrong?”

you choke on a sob. “i think i might be pregnant,” you say quietly, deliberately staring at the floor and avoiding matty’s eyes as he wraps an arm around your trembling shoulders.

“okay,” he says after a beat. “are you sure?”

you shake your head. “no. i can’t— i don’t— i can’t be a mum. not right now, anyway. but i— i know you want kids, and it’s,” you pause, biting your lip even as you press into the soothing heat of his body. “i don’t want you to think i’m scared because of you.”

he kisses the side of your head. “we’re in this together, love. you and me, yeah? whatever you want to do, i’m right there with you, okay?” you nod tearfully, overwhelmed in gratitude for his calm, soothing presence. he coaxes you back into the bedroom, lays you down on the bed and holds you, soothes you softly. the pair of you lie in quiet, resting against his chest and clinging to his arms until your cheeks have dried and your breathing evens out. “you gonna be alright if i run out and get you a test, darling?”

you try not to spiral while he’s gone. it’s not like you’ve never thought about having kids with him; most days the thought of him cradling a sweet, squishy little baby is enough to have you in floods of tears. but in those visions you aren’t twenty-two with a dissertation due in two weeks, and it all feels too fucking real.

matty’s back shockingly fast, though. he must’ve driven at least the speed limit to have been there and back in this time. especially because he’s carrying more than just a pregnancy test, arms laden with flowers and chocolates, bubble bath and face masks. he smiles, the simple action infinitely reassuring. “called off work on the way there. whatever it says, i wanna be here for my girl.” you just melt. god, you’re so fucking lucky. “wasn’t sure which one to get, so i just got ‘em all,” he says sheepishly, producing a comically large stack of pregnancy tests, the sight shocking a giggle out of you. he looks relieved, the first time you’ve laughed all morning.

you end up taking three, leaving them face down on the counter while you wait, unable to bear the tension. matty holds your hand the whole time, kisses you, murmurs reassurances against your skin. when your timer goes off, you bury your face in his shoulder. “you look. i can’t do it,” you mumble.

you watch his face as he turns over each test one by one. he’s smiling, but that doesn’t tell you anything, because he’s infuriatingly calm in situations like this. “you’re not pregnant, darling,” he says, and you crumple in relief.

“thank fucking god,” you gasp, unable to stop yourself, and he chuckles.

“alright, angel. you can stop stressin’ so much, now. i’m gonna take care of you.”

matty runs you a bath, the water silky and scented like roses, massaging the tension out of your shoulders. “you know, i do wanna have kids. with you. one day,” you add hastily.

he smiles into the skin of your neck. “gonna be the best mum, darling. when you’re ready.”

“how about we just practice making them for now?” you tease, tipping your head back so you can look in his eyes, wide with adoration.

“i like the sound of that.”

[writingquestionsanswered]

I’m curious writing gives me stress even if I enjoy it, but I became an author to enjoy things for me to read. But I don’t enjoy it with the fresh eyes of a reader. I’m curious do authors enjoy reading what they write the same way a reader does?

Writing, Stress, and Enjoying Our Own Writing

I know your question is really about the second thing, but since you mentioned that writing gives you stress, I want to address that, too.

Why is Writing Stressful?

It's not unusual for writers to feel stressed by writing, but it's always worth looking into the individual "why" to see if it's something you can address. If you're writing to meet a deadline, for example, that's going to be a little bit stressful. If you're writing something complex or emotionally taxing, that's probably going to be a bit stressful, too. In those cases, there may not be a lot you can do to totally eliminate the stress (deadlines are deadlines, and complex/taxing stuff is what it is), but you can do things to mitigate the stress--like relaxation techniques, proper time management, and exercising good self-care. But what about the times when you're not up against a deadline, or what you're writing isn't particularly taxing? Why would writing be stressful then? Sometimes it's because of the pressure we put on ourselves to write... arbitrary deadlines, unrealistic word counts, unreasonable expectations given available writing time... and the thing is, when we mentally beat ourselves up for failing to meet arbitrary deadlines, unrealistic word counts, and unreasonable expectations, we're training our brain to see writing as a stressful activity. And our brains are hard-wired to want to avoid things that feel stressful, which is why--if writing feels stressful--we end up stuck in some way. So, it's really, REALLY important to do what you can to de-stress writing for yourself. Use arbitrary guidelines as motivation, but be gentle with yourself if you blow past them. Use time blocking or other time management methods to determine how much writing time you actually have available in a given day, week, or month, and set word count goals accordingly--but give yourself grace if you fall short on a particular day or during a particular week. Use word sprints during free time to try to catch up. Also: practice good self-care and do things before and during your writing sessions to make them more peaceful--take a walk, do yoga, meditate, put on soft music, drink some lemon water, etc.

Do Writers Enjoy Reading Their Work the Same Way Readers Do?

Part of what readers enjoy about stories are the surprises held by the characters, world, and plot. We love seeing how characters grow and change, or do things that surprise us. We love learning things about these new settings and worlds. And we love turning the pages to find out answers to our burning questions. But as writers, there are no surprises and unanswered questions. So, in that way, our experience when reading our own work is fundamentally different than that of a reader who is reading it for the first time.

But, as readers we also love to reread the stories we love. Sometimes we can glean new information from a reread, but often we just love to revisit the characters, world, and story. Even if there are no surprises because we already know everything that's going to happen, there's still something enjoyable--and sometimes even comforting--about returning to familiar stories. So, on that level, writers can enjoy their own writing in a similar way to their readers, especially when revisiting a story months or years after we wrote it.

Having said that, there are some writers who do not enjoy reading their own writing, ever. Sort of like there are some actors who can't watch movies or TV shows they were in. For some of us, once that creative work is finished, we put it behind us and don't want or need to experience it again, and that's okay, too. Everyone is different.

So, if you enjoy reading the stories you wrote, that's great, and you can feel free to embrace that! If you don't enjoy reading the stories you wrote, that's okay, too. ♥

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[crushculture03]

Teacher Assistant Pt. 2

Summary : Your now boyfriend Matty, has had a stressful two weeks and it’s up to you to help him out.

Part 1

Pairing : Professor! Matty x fem!reader

Warnings : Smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral (f! receiving) , slight choking kink, fluff towards the end, name calling.

Word count : 2.1k

Ever since that night in his office, the two of you have been inseparable, constantly sneaking around and sharing stolen kisses when no one was looking. You wished more than anything that your relationship with matty could be public, you both did, but you knew it was strictly taboo for a professor and their subordinate to be involved with eachother, and in a way the forbiddeness of it all made your guys relationship even hotter.

You knew today Matty had a lecture, you also know how hes been very stressed lately with final papers slowly rolling in and deadlines for graded work pushing closer. So you decided to surprise him in class, by putting on the same outfit you always use to wear when you’d visit him to grade papers, a short skirt and a thin blouse, you hoped that it would maybe make him feel a bit better.

He was in the middle of his lecture, when you carefully opened the door, not wanting to bring too much attention to yourself as you entered the lecture hall late. Luckily it was a small class so no one even noticed you entering the building. Slowly you walked down the steps until you made it to the front row, you knew for your plan to work you’d have to sit in the front, it was perfect because most students sat to the back so no one but Matty would see the antics you were about to pull.

When you finally took your seat in the middle of the front row, Matty turned around, he had been writing something on the board when you came in and had his back turned to you. “Ok class so as you can see” he said to his students, before his eyes landed on you, his heart skipping a beat as he took in your appearance. “Um so-so as you can see those are the um four branches of philosophy” he stuttered out, his mind now consumed with the thoughts of what he wanted to do to you.

Matty quickly cleared his throat, an attempt to regain his focus, but it was useless when he saw you slowly cross your legs, skirt riding up ever so slightly to reveal the green lace of your underwear, his favorite. He tried so hard to focus back on his lecture but the aching of his cock in his pants and the sight of your plush thighs and cleavge was too much, and eventually he ended up saying “Class dismissed early, just work on your final papers and have them in by the end of the week”.

The students quickly got up, happy to be leaving early. Once the last student walked out the door, matty walked up to you “And just what do you think you’re doing” he asked, you looked up at him with innocent eyes “What? I just wanted to learn more about Philiosophy” you said, a smile creeping onto your face.

“Do you dress like this for all of your lectures or just for the professors that you want to fuck?” he teased, placing his hand on your thigh as he leaned closer to you. “ Well not all the professors are sexy boyfriend are they?” you said, grabbing his tie to pull him into a kiss. “You’re going to be the death of me” he whispered, you giggled at this statement, “When do you have to be out of the lecture hall?” you ask, moving your lips down his face and to his neck, he groans as you do so “In an hour” he mumbles.

“More than enough time” you point out, he chuckles as he realizes your intentions. “Baby did you do this on purpose?” he asks, “Maybe” you whisper, trailing your hands down his chest, slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt. Before you knew it, Matty picks you up out of your seat, you yelp out in surprise, “You think you can tease me and get away with it” he says, you look up at him, his pupils dilated from lust. “I-” you say, but he quickly silences you by placing his lips to yours and taking you over to the desk, gently placing you down on top of it.

You bite your lip as he pulls away from you, your eyes making there way down to the bulge in his pants, you reach your hands out and slowly palm him through his dress pants, he throws his head back with a moan.

You try to get up from the desk slowly, but he stops you by placing a firm grip on your hips, “sorry darling but bad girls don’t get to suck my cock ” he teases, you whine “but” you try to reason with him. “You want to be a tease well baby it’s time for your punishment” he says, his hands coming up to your blouse, slowly undoing it, you gasp as the cool air hit your bare chest, matty tsks as he takes in your appearance “No bra? You really are a dirty girl” he chuckles, before taking one of your breasts in his hand, slowly kneading it, you moan at the sensation.

You whine when you feel his warm touch leave your chest and slowly make its way down your body till he reaches the the hem of your skirt. “Matty” you beg for any kind of relief, “not my fault you wanted to be a tease baby” he chuckles, before slowly pulling your skirt down your legs. He bends down and places soft kisses on your inner thighs eventually making his way to where you need him most. You feel his hot breath over your core, “Matty” you moan as he places a a kiss over the fabric of your core.

“Mm my perfect little slut wearing my favorite underwear just for me” he teases, before slowly pulling them down your legs, now fully exposed in front of him. You bite you lip trying to hold back a moan as you see him spread your legs wider. Matty gently licks a strip up you core, you grip onto his curls as you feel his tongue hit you, “matty” you moan as he connects his lips with your clit, slowly moving the bud with his tongue.

You pull him closer to you, the feeling of his soft curls on your thighs was something you always enjoyed when he would go down on you. “More” you pleaded, matty obeyed and slowly entered one finger into you, his tongue never stopping its assault on your clit. “ so close” you moaned, this caused matty to enter another finger inside of you. You tugged harshly on his hair as you came, matty moaned as you pulled his hair, slowly licking up your release, trying his best not to waste a drop.

He finally pulled away from your thighs, looking up at you, his chin and lips still wet from your release. He smiled at you before getting up and pulling you into a kiss, you moaned into it as you tasted yourself on his tongue. Your hands grasp onto his belt, quickly undoing it, your fingers then unzip his dress pants pulling them down slightly, just enough to pull his cock out of his briefs. He moans as you take him into your hand, slowly pumping him up and down. “Need to feel you” he groans, you respond by quickly lining him up with you core, gently tapping his hip as a signal for him to move forward. Matty gets the hint and grabs your hips, slowly entering you, you both throw your heads back in pleasure at the new sensation.

“You have no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this” he says into your neck as he pulls himself out of you and thrusts back in. You two hadn’t been able to have sex in a few weeks due to him being extremely busy and stressed. “ Me too” you whisper, pulling him in for a quick kiss, “i know you’ve been stressed lately, so take it out on me baby, destress, do what you need, i’m at your disposal” you say, looking into his eyes and brushing a stray curl from his forehead. “Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you?” he says, as he buries his cock deep inside of you and stills. “You won’t hurt me baby I promise” you say, matty nods his head “if at any point it’s too much tell me ok?” he says, “ok” you respond back.

Mattys grip on your hips become tighter as he beens to quickly thrust in and out of you, you moan at the new pace, “lay back” he says, slowly pushing you down on the desk until you feel the cool wood on your back. Mattys pace quickens, eachtime hitting a new spot inside of you, which causes him to let out an almost pornographic moan, in your head you hope no one is near the lecture hall so they don’t hear you both.

Mattys hand slowly makes its way up from your hip, all the way up to your neck, your breath hitches at this new position. He looks down at you asking for permission, you nod your head back in response. Gently matty applies pressure to your neck, still holding your hip in one hand and never slowing his thrusts. “M’ close matty” you moan, the sensation of his hand around you neck and the fast speed of his thrusts becoming to much for you, that on top of already being sensitive from your first orgasm.

“Me too baby” he responds, you wrap your legs around his waist, causing him to hit just the right spot in you that has you seeing stars. You eyes close as the band snaps in your stomach, the familiar wave of euphoria washes over your body as you finish around his cock.

Mattys thrusts eventually become sloppy as he finishes inside of you, the feeling of his cum filling you up makes you feel warm inside. He moves the hand that was on your neck, to your cheek and cups it “Hey my sweet girl” he whispers, your eyes flutter open and you smile. “Hi matty” you whisper back, soon both his hands guide you to a sitting position, you slightly wince at the loss of contact as he slowly pulls out of you.

“Shit I don’t have a towel” he says, guilt flashing across his face as he sees both your and his release slowly pouring out of your core and running down your thighs. “Its ok, just hand me my clothes and I’ll go to the bathroom and clean up” you say, as you get off the desk, legs almost collapsing as you do so, this causes matty to grab your side and stablize you so you don’t fall.

He carefully hands you your clothes and helps you get redressed, after helping you he quickly fixes himself up. “Here i’ll go with you” he offers, quickly picking you up bridal style and walking up the stairs and out into the hallway, “Matty what if someone sees” you ask, nervously darting your head back and forth, checking the halls. “There’s no one here, since the next class isn’t for another 45 minutes” he reasures you as he walks to the bathroom.

“You know I can walk Healy” you giggle as he places you down on the counter. “You’re my princess and I shall treat you like one” he says, carefully grabbing a handful of paper towels and weting them, your heart flutters at his comment. “I’m sorry they’re paper towels, but i promise once we get you cleaned up we can go back to my place and I’ll run you a bath, sound good?” he says, you nod your head in response. Matty gently begins to clean you up, being extra careful since the material of the towels is rough. “All cleaned baby” he smiles, quickly throwing the used towels in the toilet and flushing it, making sure not to leave a trace.

“Matty” you say as the two of you walk back to retrieve your stuff. “Yes my love” he says, “You know no guy has ever treated me the way you do, I’m just feel so lucky to call you mine” you say as you pull him into a kiss. Matty smiles “I feel insanely lucky that I get to call you mine, you’re very special to me y/n and I hope you know i don’t intend on ever letting you go” he chuckles, before kissing you again. “The future only sounds good if I get to spend it with you” you say, “I agree” he responds back

[poopwons]

Thinking about Artist!Jean being just the SWEETEST boyfriend when his girl isn’t feeling herself. 😭😭

Modern Au, Fluff, fem reader, No use of y/n, this is purely self indulgent, and my first ever fic I’m actually posting, sorry if it’s bad writing 💀

TW: anxious thoughts, insecurities, reader doesn’t feel good enough, I think that’s all??

————————————————————————

You come into the apartment in a huff, putting your things down and going to the fridge to get some water.

“Hey,” Jean starts, as he walks into the kitchen from his studio down the hall, before he stops and takes in your expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Just had a bad day,” you say, not really wanting to go into all of it, all your insecurities and the anxiety you’ve dealt with throughout today.

None of your clothes fit the way you wanted them to, making you feel like nothing you put on looked even remotely good. You were sporting an acne break out from stress? Hormones? Who fucking knows, but it’s annoying. The fact that in every window you walked by today, you saw your reflection and just felt…not pretty enough. And you do all of the things your therapist recommends when you’re feeling low like this, you’ve been working out, eating right, trying to drink more water. Not to mention the affirmations you had scribbled on your mirror in the bathroom. But some days, the irrational side of your brain wins out. Today you could not see past any of the things you don’t like about yourself. You weren’t able to view the whole picture and instead focused on the small flaws. Even going to lunch with your friends was discouraging, watching them all sport smiles and feel confident in themselves. It seemed effortless for them. And nothing ever felt effortless for you. You felt like you had to work so hard to even feel some semblance of the confidence your friends exude daily.

“What happened?” Jean asks, coming around the counter, wrapping his big arms around you pressing a kiss to the top of your head before moving down to your lips. “Do I need to beat somebody up?”

“Not unless you wanna beat up your own girlfriend.”

“Mm. That kind of bad day, huh?” He says softly, tilting your head to look at him before he kisses you again.

Jean knows about your struggles, you’ve been together for a while now, so it would have been impossible for him not to notice. He tries to do the most for you when it gets like this. He knows you can’t help it, that it tends to come in waves. You’ve been stressed at work lately and that usually bleeds into your anxiety.

“Come here, Pretty.” He says, pulling you by your hand to lead you to the couch, sitting you down and getting the blanket off the back to wrap it around you. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He turns to go back to his studio, but not before turning on your usual comfort show for you.

He comes back into the living room and sits down with you, sketchbook and pencil in hand.

“You don’t have to work out here.. I know you have a deadline.” You say softly from your spot on the couch, not wanting to distract him from his work just because you had a bad day.

“I got that piece done already, this is something different. It’s not work, so I’m gonna sit with you. Besides, I haven’t seen you all day.” He says leaning over to press another quick kiss to your lips, before leaning with his back on the arm of the couch, knees up with his sketch book pressed to them.

It’s pretty normal for Jean to draw in his free time when he’s not working on commissions for clients. It’s his chance to work on stuff he actually likes and lets him get more creative without the constraints of a clients wishes. You turn your attention back to the show, finding comfort in this cute little routine you two have. The warmth of his body next to yours while he scribbles on his page, the faint sound of the pencil scratching the paper, when the two of you get time like this everything else in the world kind of drowns out.

While half your brain is still going on and on about the ways you’re not good enough and ways you could improve, you try to focus on the show, trying to ignore all those other thoughts. You laugh at a part you’ve seen probably a hundred times, but you still find it just as funny as the first time. You glance over at Jean who’s smiling down at his paper, his eyes flitting between the tv and the paper. He doesn’t normally show you his free time stuff until it’s finished, so you don’t bother asking him what he’s working on, knowing that you’ll find out eventually.

The two of you sit like that for a couple hours, just enjoying being in each others company, chatting idly about the show and some stuff the two of you have going on over the weekend. After a few more moments, Jean shifts again, sitting closer to you, his sketch book splayed open to the page he was working on as he puts his arm around you. When you finally glance down at it, a look of surprise spreads across your face.

“Is that..me?” You ask softly, taking the book in your hands to examine the drawing further.

Jean simply nods, offering you a small mumble of affirmation with a little grin on his lips. As you look over the paper you see how he’s drawn you, plush lips turned up into a wide grin, you’re laughing. Your eyes are bright and you look..happy, your hair is in beautiful waves, no frizz in sight. There’s another small drawing in the corner of the page, it looks like he’s just drawn your eyes alone, shining and bright. It hits you then that when he lifted his head up from the page earlier, he hadn’t been watching the tv, he’d been looking at you.

Taking the book you look at the front cover and realize that this isn’t his usual sketch book. You flip to the front of the book and go through the pages, as you flip through it you have to fight back the tears that well in your eyes. Every page, is filled with you, sketches, drawings, some with color some without. Some pages are just studies of your features where he was trying to get your smile right, or your eyes. Some of them are full body drawings, and you recognize your own clothes, days when you’d send him selfies of your outfits with a big happy smile.

You look over at him with a soft smile, “what is this?”

He leans over and presses a kiss to your temple. “It’s you, baby. Whenever I’m having an art block or can’t think of what I want to draw, I just..draw you.”

“You drew me so pretty..”

“You are pretty. More than pretty.” He says, leaning into you to press another kiss to your temple, resting his head against yours. “Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I thought about it when you came home and said you felt bad, that I wished you could see yourself the way I do. I thought, maybe I should just show you.”

You continue flipping through the pages, they aren’t all happy drawings. Some of them are clearly from some times when you weren’t feeling your best, but even in the ones where you have a sad expression, or tears in your eyes, he still drew you beautifully. Even when you felt your worst he still thought you were beautiful.

“Thank you…for this.” You say softly, turning towards him to softly kiss his lips, setting the sketchbook down on the table and pulling yourself into his lap to wrap your arms around him.

“Just drawing what I see, nothing else.” He murmurs as he buries his face into your neck, pressing a kiss there before holding you tightly.

————————————————————————

✨I want this man so bad, that is all.✨

Thanks for reading!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰

[sirowsky-stories]

Bird Men

Summary: You've entered a cooking competition and your competitors are all intimidating, but also secretly sweet, men.

Requested by @bilibiche

Rating: General/Everyone Warnings: Multiple Pedro Characters (Joel Miller, Javi Gutierrez, Marcus Pike, Frankie Morales, and Jack Daniels), two mild bad words, obviously a bit of competition stress, but overall this is just lighthearted fun. Word Count: 1790

   You’ve all been tasked with making the perfect roast chicken, something you’ve never really gotten right before, so you’re nervous as you run back and forth in your little kitchen, trying to keep the timeframe you’ve set up for yourself within the one hour and forty-five-minute deadline.    Filets are easy, you can do those perfect with your eyes closed, but an entire bird for whatever reason is your weak point. It never comes out just juicy enough.    And to add to your stress, all five of your competitors seem perfectly at ease.

   It’s not a professional competition, you’re all amateur cooks, but it’s high profile enough that there are cameras present, and a rather large crowd gathered around the outdoor competition area.    Part of a local festival, the cook-off is one of dozens of different contests which will take place over a weekend, and the entire town is in attendance.

   You entered because of a dare you lost on a particularly wet night at the pub, most of which you can’t remember that clearly, but you do remember the promise to enter the cook-off if you lost a game of pool.    So, here you are, entirely out of your league and yet too damned stubborn not to at least try to win.

   The other competitors are all men, which is already enough to make you wanna beat them, but even more annoying is the fact that they’re all amazingly good-looking, but somehow, you’ve never seen any one of them before.    In a city this small, that seems impossible. Still, you all had to give your addresses when you signed up, at which point you took the liberty of reading theirs, and they’re all locals.

   Once you’ve got the chicken in the oven, you set to work with the sides, and after about a minute, the guy in the kitchen behind you says something to you, but you’re not expecting anyone to talk, so you don’t catch it.

   “Huh?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder at him.

   His name’s Javi and he has the most gorgeous hair you’ve ever seen on a guy. He’s tanned and wearing a silky soft shirt in pale pink, which suits him perfectly.

   “You forgot to start the timer,” he repeats with a smile and a tiny wink, and you’re momentarily distracted by how lovely his eyes are.

   “Oh, crap… Thanks,” you throw back, suddenly feeling terribly disheveled in your already stained blue t-shirt with a glittery silver unicorn on the front, and your hair tangled in the little beads of sweat around your face.

   “No problem. You got this, chica,” he whispers encouragingly, and for whatever reason, his words really move you.

   All at once, breathing gets a little easier and the worst of your stress seems to evaporate.

   You’ve been squaring up against guys for most of your life, being the kid who stood up for your friends at school, fighting the bullies that they never dared to even talk back to, or having to play football with the boys because there weren’t enough girls for a team of your own.    But not once in your life can you recall ever getting support or encouragement from any guy. Well, except for your dad, who is arguably your biggest supporter in all things.

   Feeling a smile spread across your cheeks, you set the timer and then continue with the potatoes, carrots and broccoli, soon disappearing into your own little world as your focus narrows with the task.    A sudden clanging draws your attention to the left, where another contestant, you believe his name is Jack, has just dropped a big bowl of homemade mayonnaise on the floor, and is staring at the mess with raised brows.

   “Well, that w’nt part o’ the plan…” he drawls in a deep Texan accent, before he shrugs and carries on like nothing happened, cleaning up the mess in no time and setting to work on making a new batch.

   And since you’re still grateful for the encouragement from Javi, you decide to pay it forward.

   “Don’t worry about it, Jack. There’s plenty of time,” you say, smiling at him when he looks up at you.

   “Why, thank you, sweetheart,” he replies with a nod and respectful touch to the brim of his bespoke cowboy hat.

   Then, as if the few polite comments at the three kitchens in the front have unlocked the tense silence you’ve all submitted to, despite there being no rules against talking, the remaining three contestants begin to join in as well.

   “Am I the only one sweating like I’m running a marathon?” the guy behind Jack says, and a peek at his nametag reminds you his name’s Frankie.

   “Not used to competing?” one of the two at the back, Marcus, asks, and he does look perfectly calm as he cleans off a few tools in between tasks.

   “Nope,” Frankie replies. “But I’m guessing you are.”

   “I’m a cop,” Marcus explains, and the rest of you all groan, because if anyone’s gonna hold up under pressure, it’ll be the law-enforcer.

   While you’re turned back, you take a moment to observe the men, noting that the other guy at the back, you didn’t catch his name and you can’t see his tag, is having trouble with a blender.

   “Hey, need a hand with that?” you ask, and after a moment he looks up, realizing you’re talking to him.

   “Uh… Never used one of these before,” he admits, and before you’ve had a chance to step in, Javi turns around from his position between you.

   “Yeah, these are a bit complicated. Ignore all those buttons with the funny symbols and just use the power one. Here,” he quickly shows the man, and when he turns back to his kitchen, you see that the other man’s name is Joel.

   “How stupid are we, helpin’ out the competition,” Jack chuckles from the front, but his grin is of the heartfelt kind, clearly enjoying the lighter mood which has developed with the lack of silence.

   “More fun to win an even fight,” Marcus chips in.

   “Easy for the stress-free dumbass to say,” Frankie grumbles, making everyone laugh.

   “How does being stress-free make me a dumbass?”

   “Oh, you know, the same way that being a cop makes you more attractive. It’s all in the eyes of the beholder.”

   “So, in other words, because you think I look like an ass, I am an ass.”

   “Bingo!” Frankie concludes, clicking his tongue in approval, and Marcus just huffs bemusedly and continues working.

   It’s quiet for about three seconds after that, and then a deep rumbling voice sounds from the third kitchen on your side, just as you’re taking a bite of your potatoes to make sure the seasoning turned out right.

   “By that logic, I’d say Frankie’s a dick,” Joel summarizes without even looking up from his cutting board, and the bite you were chewing comes flying out of your mouth with how hard you cackle.

   All six of you end up giggling for a good while after that, and so does most of the crowd.    But then the bell rings, signaling you’ve only got thirty minutes left, and suddenly you’re all back to sharp focus.    It is still a contest after all.

   You can’t sample the chicken before it’s served, so all you can do is try and present it as appetizingly as possible, and you’re quite pleased with the presentation you’ve come up with.    But as all six birds are put next to each other on the display table before the judges, your confidence wavers. All the boys have an eye for esthetics, it seems.

   As always, the ruling takes forever, since every judge has to cleanse their pallet before trying the next dish, and of course, take lots of dramatic pauses to extend the spectacle as long as possible for the waiting crowd.    But in the end, the cowboy takes the prize. You guess there’s just no competing with the deep appreciation of meat and its preparation in the south, where Jack obviously grew up.

   Surprisingly though, he’s a much humbler winner than you’d expected, and quietly suggests you should all celebrate together at a local bar, on his treat, since the prize is five hundred dollars in cash.    Having nothing better to do, and no reason to turn down free drinks, you all agree, and head off to the city center together as soon as the cameras are done with you.

   And to your absolute delight, the moment the pressure’s gone and there’s no rivalry between you anymore, all the guys turn out to be real sweethearts.    Not once during the course of the evening do you feel in any way unsafe around them. Contrarily, they actually protect you from the other drunks, even after they’ve all gotten plenty inebriated themselves, which just makes you laugh.

   “You know, it was a bet I lost over a game of pool that made me enter the contest,” you explain to Javi after having lost a game to Marcus and turning down a rematch, which the attractive cop had wanted to bet on.

   “Really?” Javi smiles, and then raises his glass to you. “In that case, I’d like to propose a toast to whomever bet against you, because without them, we would never have met you and this evening would have been a lot less wonderful.”

   “Javi… are you hitting on me?” you say with an unserious accusation in your tone, and yet he immediately puts his hands up in surrender.

   “Not at all. You’re just a lovely person, and I’m happy to get to know you.”

   Before you can answer that, Jack turns up with a fresh round of drinks, this time an expensive whiskey for each of you.

   “Are you sure you wanna spend the entire winnings on booze?” Joel asks while smelling the liquid with an appreciative set to his jaw.

   “Well, partner,” the cowboy starts, somehow sounding even more steadfast and reliable the drunker he gets. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this life, it’s that good friends are way more valuable than cash.    And I gotta say, as easy and comfortable as this evenin’s felt, I’m hopin’ it means I’ve gained some good ones.”

   No one says anything in response, you just look at each other with soft little smiles on your faces, then you raise your glasses and tip your heads at each other, silently agreeing that this day is only the beginning of what will likely become lifelong relationships.    Who would’ve thought when you’d gotten out of bed that morning, moaning about how you didn’t even wanna go, you’d end up having the best day of your life, all thanks to some grilled fucking chicken.

THE END

[dudadragneel]

🦄 Okay so I was thinking about taking care of Chan with a migraine but he keeps trying get work done and gets frustrated because he has deadlines and he doesn’t like making you feel like you have to take care of him because he feels like a burden. But he ends up having a panic attack and throwing up and can’t go to practice the next day 😓

Well, here it is! A surprise Chan sickfic!

Enjoy!

RESPONSIBILITY

Another comeback was just around the corner for Stray Kids, which meant everyone was overwhelmed with stuff to do, ones more than others because of some solo activities. Pre comeback time was specially hard for Chan, since he was the main producer of the group, the weight on his shoulders doubled, tripled.

He had to make new demos, lyrics and everything and it was taking its toll on his health.

While working, he developed a rather strong migraine, that obviously wasn't going to get better because he was always glued the screen and had headphones on. And to top that, the kids were specially hyped.

- Hi babe, how are you?

- Hey, honey, I'm good. What's up? Is everything okay?

- Yeah...uhmm...actually no...I need to work on some new songs and I got a migraine and well...the kids are too loud and I don't want them to stop because of me. Can I come over?

- Of course, babe. I'm at the grocery store right now, what me to pick you up?

- If it's not too much trouble hehe

- I'll be there in five.

He packed his stuff and told the kids you invited him over. He hated having to lie to the members but he didn't want them to feel bad for being too hyped.

You arrived at the dorms and called Chan to come down. He entered the car, gave you a kiss and you left to your house.

You put on some music to try to lighten up the mood a bit since it was rainy and gloomy outside. He was enjoying it, bobbing his head to the beat, which you couldn't help but find adorable.

But you noticed that from time to time he brought a hand to his head and squeezed it, as if trying to control the pain.

- Is it that bad, honey?

- What? Oh, no. Just a little hehe. It stings from time to time.

- Did you take anything?

- No. The medication usually makes me feel sleepy and I have work to do.

- Take it later, please.

- I will.

You arrived at your house, he carried the grocery bags up and helped you sort everything out. And then he went to your study to assemble his mini studio to start working on the songs again.

You asked him if you could keep him company to which he answered yes with a bright smile. The study had a cozy sofa so you just lay there going through your phone, reading and looking at him working.

You noticed how frustrated he was becoming because things were turning out the way he wanted to. He'd squeeze his head between his hands and eventually his frustration got even worse.

- Fuck!

You got startled to see him swearing, which was a rare thing for him, so it meant he was really annoyed.

You got up from the sofa and made your way towards him, you stood behind the chair and massaged his shoulders and he grabbed your hand and kissed it softly.

- I'm sorry, babe.

- It's okay. Why don't you take a little break?

- I can't, honey. I gotta get this done...

- I know but you're only stressing yourself right now.  Come on, let's eat something and relax a bit and then you continue with your work. I'm not asking.

- Okay.

You cooked a nice meal for both of you and he loved it. You managed to get him to relax a little in the living room before he headed back to the study to keep on with his work.

Just like before, he didn't want to take anything for his migraine and kept on working through that intense pain.

But the pain only got worse and worse and he wasn't happy with anything he was producing. Nothing was coming out the way he wanted. He took off his headphones and lay back on his chair letting out a heavy sigh. You made your way to him again and once more massaged his shoulders.

- Honey, I think that's enough for today, no?

- I can't babe. I have a deadline, I need this ready as soon as possible.

- I know you have deadlines, but working with a migraine it's not gonna do anything good. You're not satisfied with what your doing I can tell. If you insist on working like that you'll only frustrate yourself even further.

- But I can't rest now. Everyone is waiting for these demos and samples. I-I need to- to finish this-

Suddenly, his talking started to sound low, he could feel his heartbeat increasing rapidly and he was starting to hyperventilate. He was having a panic attack. You noticed the change in his behavior and kneeled in front of him grabbing both his hands.

- Chan, what's wrong?

He tried his best to breathe but it was like no air was going inside. His heartbeat kept increasing and he was sweating as if he had been under the sun for the last few hours.

- Honey, you're having a panic attack. I need you to focus on me okay?

- I-I- can't...I can't do this...

He was starting to break down in tears and it only made his panic attack even worse.

- I-its too much... Everyone is d-depending on me...the producers, the kids, STAYs, you...I c-cant let them down-

- Chan! Stop!

You said firmly as you held his face in your hands.

- I'm right here. You can feel weak. I'm going to protect you.

You squeezed his hands, reassuring him you were there and he was safe.

- Now, look at me. I want you to keep looking at me, okay? Can you feel my hands?

- Y-yes

- Okay. I need you to do it exactly as I say now, okay? I want you to breathe with me. Come on. Breathe in 4, hold it 7 and breathe out 8.

He tried to follow as you said but at first it was difficult, his breathing was too labored and he was too nervous.

- Come on, babe. Look at me. Pay attention to the way I'm breathing. Do it with me. Breathe in 4, hold it 7 and breathe out 8.

He started to pay attention to the rhythm of your breathing and followed your instructions. In a few minutes his breathing was back to normal and his heartbeat lowered as well.

- There we go. Do you feel more calm now?

- Yeah...thank you...

The panic was gone but it was replaced by an awful feeling in his stomach. Nausea built up just as quickly as the panic went away. He felt everything inside his stomach twisting around, before he knew, saliva was starting to fill his mouth.

He ducked his head down and squeezed your hands, to which you reacted surprise, frowning as you looked at him.

- What's wrong?

- I think I'm gonna throw up...

- Oh god.

You quickly grabbed the bin beside the desk and placed it on the floor directly beneath his mouth. You noticed how he was still shaken up by the panic attack and didn't really want to let go of your hand, so you kneeled in front of him again. You didn't care if vomit was going to get on you or not, his well-being and comfort was your priority now.

- Let it all out. It's okay. I'm right here with you.

You squeezed his hand reassuring your words. He squeezed them back as he felt liquid coming up his throat. He closed his eyes and tried to hold it in.

- Don't hold it in, babe. You're okay. It's just you and me. You dont need to act strong.

He trusted every word you said, he knew you meant everything.

His stomach contracted, making his arch his back as a thick wave of partially digested food gushed out of his mouth.

- That's it. You're doing good.

You moved yourself to be on his side and kept holding his hand while the other rubbed his back up and down and then in circles.

He squeezed your hand as another thick stream of vomit came out, mixing with what was already inside the bin.

- I-Im sorry...

- It's okay. Don't apologize. Just focus on letting everything that's making you feel sick, out.

He arched his back one more time as a rather strong contraction sent another thick stream of vomit.

Your heart hurt seeing him like this. You knew how much pressure he put on himself and how he basically carried the weight of the world on his shoulder. You wish you could take that to yourself, but you could only be by his side and reassure him it was okay to feel like this.

He wanted to throw up again but he felt as if something was choking him and not wanting to come out. He kept gagging but nothing was coming out.

- Babe, can you help m-me? There's still something bothering my stomach.

- Sure.

You stopped rubbing his back and instead you brought your hand to his stomach and rubbed it a few times before gently pressing down on it.

That helped him throw up the remaining contents that was still making him feel sick. He spat out thin streams of saliva a few times.

- Are you done?

- Yeah...

- Here. Rinse your mouth.

- Thanks...

- Let me get this away from you.

You took the bin to the bathroom and disposed of the vomit inside it and placed it on the shower so you could properly wash it later.

You came back with more cold water for him and kneeled again taking a good look at him.

- How are you feeling?

- Better...I guess...tired...

You wiped away his tears with your fingers and then gently cupped his face.

- I love you. I'm right here, okay? Always count on me.

- I love you too.

- Come on, let's get you to bed. You need to rest.

You helped him to the bedroom and lay him down and then got him some stomach medicine. He took it and he was so exhausted from everything he was fast asleep in minutes.

You covered him up and left the bedroom for a few minutes to clean the bin and call the members.

- Hi, Minho.

- Oh! Y/n! How are you? 

- I'm good. And you guys?

- We're okay? And Chan-hyung?

- Not really... He had a panic attack and threw up after. I don't think it's wise for him to go to practice tomorrow...

- Really? Is he okay now?

- Yeah...he's asleep.

- I'll tell the manager, don't worry. Tell him we want him to get well soon. And also that we're sorry for being too loud today, we didn't know he was feeling that unwell...

- He doesn't blame you guys... He was worried about you, that's why he wanted to come here. But I'll tell him. 

- Thanks.

After the call, you went back to the bedroom and lay beside him. He was half-awake for a brief moment and cuddled with you, while you gently rubbed his chest, to keep him relaxed after such a tiring afternoon.

[draconicsparkle]

Tips and Tricks for Writing Fanfiction by Yours Truly

Hello there, my fellow fandom enjoyers! I have come to pass on some wisdom.

Have you ever had an idea that came to your mind? One that you feel could be an amazing fanfiction? But perhaps you halt right there because you might be thinking you could never write it well enough. Well, I was very much in the same boat a few years ago, so I know how it is.

However, I believe you should still give it a go! And I have compiled a list of advice tidbits that have helped me. And perhaps, they can help you too!

I dunno what sparked this desire to make and post this, but I thought it might help someone out there! Well then, let’s begin!

1: First and foremost, congratulate yourself on coming up with an idea. That part can often be difficult and you have already jumped that incredible hurdle. And it’s important to keep in mind that you should be writing this for YOU. It’s a personal project for you and it does not matter how niche it is. It’s something fun! That’s super vital to remember, to have fun with this idea in your mind!

2: I recommend taking at least a week or two to jot down notes about your au. Write down the absolutes in your world and events you want to happen. Character traits or details, powers, settings, conflicts, banger lines, etc. These ideas can spring into being at literally any time, so be sure to write them down as soon as you can, as your memory might not recall these little things later down the line.

3: For stories, make sure you know where it will begin and where it will end. Smaller details can be changed later down the line as you see fit, but do try and know the end goal and what you want to accomplish. This can also be applied to fics that are more episodic in nature. What do you want to happen by the end? Once you have that squared away, then you can begin to build around that.

4: So here’s a tip to help save yourself from stressing too much. Don’t set deadlines or make promises about when the fic or chapter will be completed and posted. Motivation comes and goes and it’s often beyond your control. Some days you can write 1000 words, and some you will only manage a single sentence. That’s normal! Don’t force your brain to overwork and stress by wanting to adhere to a deadline. No stress should be involved for something you are doing for fun.

5: Do not pay attention to the word count. A fanfic is a fanfic, no matter what the length is. Don’t beat yourself down if the fic is short. Some people love a nice and short fic! What’s important is that you accomplished what you set out to do.

6: ALWAYS edit. You can do this with a beta reader or by waiting about a day and rereading your current draft. You would not believe how helpful this is. Mistakes are bound to happen. But don’t get discouraged! Even big name authors make mistakes on their works, so don’t worry if you find some in your first drafts. It’s totally fine and easily fixable!

And here are a few other bonus tidbits that might be helpful.

7: If you are choosing to begin a fanfiction with multiple chapters, I would suggest writing at least two chapters before posting. It helps you get a good feel on if you want to continue or have enough steam for it. There is no shame in deciding to put it aside if you don’t have enough energy to do it at that time!

8: I also highly recommend that you go and read books and other fanfictions. It actually helps a lot more than you realize. You unconsciously will begin to pick up on writing styles and see what does or doesn’t work. Perhaps you might also expand your vocabulary!

So yeah, that’s my advice that I’ve accumulated from writing fics by trial and error. I do really hope that you find it useful and helpful! Good luck on your works!

[rogue-taxidermy-of-sarina-brewer]

With the vernal equinox now under our belt I thought a spring lamb would be apropos. This might be my all-time favorite taxidermy piece that I’ve made. If not my favorite, it’s definitely the most personal.

TITLE ~ Ewe Time: Lamb-enting the Passing of Childhood Delight(s)

My husband found this lamb frozen to death while he was hiking a remote rural road in South Dakota. It had somehow wandered from safety and ended up outside the pasture fence where it couldn’t fend for itself, miles away from its home. It was a moving reminder about the harshness of life. It was also a story about crossroads; how every decision affects the course of your existence. The lamb’s story was such a powerful one that it needed to be woven into the layers of this piece.

I mounted the lamb in a serene standing pose on a monument-like base; its shape and feel intended to evoke the feeling of a statue in a cemetery. The lamb is standing in bright green artificial turf atop the base. On the front of the base there is a small chrome plaque engraved with “R.I.P.” The lamb’s emotionless mirrored eyes reflect its surroundings, while around its neck a tight collar bears the weight of a ticking timepiece. Another ticking clock has replaced the spot the lamb’s heart should occupy. The title of this piece is a play on words and alludes to a dark and melancholy autobiographical story about sacrifice and the loss of innocence. The lamb is intended to be reminiscent of a child’s stuffed plush toy, while the clocks are a metaphor for the passage of time. With age carefree days disappear. And soon time itself begins to disappear – the time you had to yourself before you had adult responsibilities. “You time” becomes a scarce commodity. Adult responsibilities bring hardship, and hardship brings disenchantment; the disenchantment that all professional artists will experience at some point during their career as they struggle to survive solely on the income from their art sales.

I chose the title for this piece before I had actually begun work on it. Little did I know that it would live up to its name. This piece represents the most career stress I have ever experienced due to a string of events that included (among other things) a painfully expensive shipping fiasco and the gallery giving the person who bought this piece a discount without my consent. All of which contributed to me taking a financial beating on the sale because I had also underestimated how much time needed to be devoted to the project. And devoted I was. So much so that when I was working on this piece circumstances necessitated bringing it along on a roadtrip to an out-of-state family holiday gathering because I was working under such a horrendous deadline. The process of tanning an animal hide requires the hide to remain in a bath of chemicals for a number of days so I couldn’t postpone it until I got back from the trip or I would run out of time to complete the project. So a white 5-gallon bucket containing tanning chemicals and a lamb skin was among the luggage on the trip.

~

Garishly colored animals were among the very first taxidermy pieces I ever created and remain among my signature works. They were a prominent strain of my work when my colleagues and I launched the genre of Rogue Taxidermy in 2004. Dyed taxidermy has since become a popular practice among other artists and it’s among my contributions to the genre that I hold dear. This makes my dyed animals even more special to me and I will be sharing more of them with you in the coming days. If you enjoyed this post I encourage you to follow my account for more related stories. I also encourage you to learn more about the often misunderstood and misrepresented art form of rogue taxidermy. Link here to read about the birth of the genre and what types of work it encompasses. It’s likely not what you think.

[panda-noosh]

my battle with creative joy

hi everyone!

so here i am actually making a blog post. not a fic (sorry...) but an actual, real life blog post where i will just ramble and probably make no sense. i hope you guys don’t mind. i would also like to think you’re used to it by now.

i’ve had a lot on my mind recently when it comes to my creative process, and my creative life in general. from the age i could pick up a pen, i have used writing as an escape, and it has always been a fun thing for me to do (obviously). i remember spending the entire night working on a fic, or having pieces that were over 200k long because i just got in these moments where i couldn’t stop myself from saying more, writing more, creating more. it was an addiction. a good one, but an addiction nonetheless.

the thing that has been playing on my mind, however, is how sad i am that i’ve lost that side of myself.

there are many reasons for this that i cannot beat myself up over; work, life, being an adult. i now have a fiance, and a dog, and a house i have to take care of, because it is my own. i now have a full time job in health care, where the hours are endless and the stress is endless, and it really leaves no room whatsoever to process anything but what you have just seen, or endured, or had to deal with. these are all things out of my control, because as hard as it is to come to terms with it, life is more than just. . . doing what you want.

trust me, i cried over this too. many times.

i get asks on the daily about whether i’m still active, or if i plan on writing anymore (insert fandom here) fics, and i always, always say yes, because i think speaking it into existence will potentially benefit me in the long run. saying no just feels like i’m giving in, and i don’t want to do that, because i would genuinely love to revive this blog, run it the way i used to, interact with you guys in the way i used to. but it’s difficult. it’s impossible some days, because life doesn’t accommodate. it just. . . throws you tasks that you have to deal with whilst keeping yourself sane at the same time.

creative joy is something i’ve been trying to find again for a while now, and it definitely is a work in progress. i still love writing - i know that. but in the same breath, i’m at that age now where i want to make writing my full time job, and that means the dynamic between myself and my creative joy has changed drastically. i no longer sit at my computer with a burst of inspiration and ideas flooding to my head. i sit at my computer now because i have a future in mind that i need to reach. that means word count goals, and schedules, and self doubt. that means getting frustrated with my own capabilities. that means writing for thirty minutes before getting worn down - such a change from the teenager who could sit at her laptop all night without even batting an eye.

it’s sad to think about sometimes, and sometimes i do beat myself up over it. that’s why i’m trying to find that joy again. i’m not being difficult on myself any more - if i want to ditch a project and write something else, that’s what i’ll do. if i want to flesh out a character that has no story to fit into, i’ll do that. if work has exhausted me, i’m going to go to bed without stressing about how behind i’ll be on this imaginary deadline for a novel i’ve set in my head. i’m going to chill out.

i’ve actually really started focusing on self care in this way for a few months now, and it has left me feeling very enlightened, i won’t lie. you don’t realise how harsh you are to yourself until you actually start putting the measures in place to be kind to your mind and body. just putting yourself first, really, and knowing that you should always be your own first priority - for your sake, and everybody else’s.

i don’t know. i just had a lot on my mind in regards to this topic, and i wanted to share it somewhere. i’ll probably do more of these, even if nobody cares to read them lol. they’re just therapeutic to me, so if you’ve read this far, thank you. i’d love to hear your thoughts on this whole thing, and maybe we can help each other out. make a little self-improvement, self-care thing here at case de aticus. 

love you all! 

[tittyinfinity]

Apparently she takes so much that it's dangerous. I don't know how much that is. They complain that she's a bit "too happy" when she comes around. Because when she doesn't have her pills she won't talk to anyone unless they want to do something to help her. They view it as 100% addiction only and so did I for a bit but that was mostly because I prided myself in the fact that I was pushing through my pain *unlike her* but now that I'm getting to the point of burnout I'm realizing that maybe I should look into this before judging further. Thank you so much btw! I'm sorry if talking about this is exhausting, I'm sure people bug this about this kind of stuff enough.

I honestly wouldn't be able to tell you whether or not it's a problem unless I knew how much she was taking and what kind of medication it is. If it's a kind of medication that has 325mg acetaminophen along with it, you can't take more than 3 of them without it being unsafe for your stomach and liver, no matter how much of the narcotic it has in it. In that case, it is dangerous, but in the way that taking three 500mg tylenol is dangerous, opiate or not.

I'm not sure why "too happy" is a side effect to complain about, but that's exactly the effect doctors (and everyone else) don't want you to have. Because having that "high" makes you dirty, somehow. It used to make me feel more euphoric than it does now, with less medication, and I definitely wasn't taking an unsafe amount. Even if what she's feeling is that "euphoric high," there's nothing inherently wrong with that. Isn't that better than her being in pain & unhappy? If she's isolating herself when she doesn't have it, it sounds like she just doesn't want to burden anyone else with her symptoms, because I do that as well. But then again, you mentioned that she will accept help, so I'm assuming there is a health issue that she has discussed with you guys? Would you mind me asking what that is?

It kinda sounds like your family is downplaying a serious health issue of hers, not gonna lie. Even if that health issue is just depression. And honestly, it kinda sucks that everyone is giving her shit whether she takes the meds or not – she's "too happy" when she takes them, "too useless" when she doesn't. That's not really fair to her. But I'm really glad you sent these asks to help get an understanding on the situation better. I really wish my family members cared enough to do the same, tbh.

It sucks dealing with that guilt, that you must be failing in some way if you can't make it through the day without medication. One thing that made me stop beating myself up so much about it was realizing that the stress wasn't any better on my body. Not being able to get things done, missing deadlines, living in a messy environment, not being able to get out of bed or leave the house, not being able to take care of myself in general.... not being able to live life is so much worse, in my opinion. Stress ends up weakening your immune system and can cause many other health issues. Depression can kill you. Taking the pain meds is the safer option whenever the stress from burnout can lead to many more negative outcomes, whether it be your mental health, physical health, or getting into stressful situations due to not being able to function. Don't beat yourself up for needing help!!!

[modish-musings]

The Psychology of Procrastination: Why We Delay and How to Overcome It!

Procrastination is something that most people experience at some point in their lives. It is the act of delaying or putting off tasks that require attention, often to the point where it becomes a problem. Whether it is studying for an exam, completing a work project, or cleaning the house, many people find themselves struggling with procrastination. But why do we do it, and how can we overcome it?

Procrastination is a common experience, and many people struggle with it at some point in their lives. Research suggests that around 20% of adults experience chronic procrastination, meaning that they frequently delay tasks and have difficulty meeting deadlines. However, almost everyone procrastinates at least occasionally, and it's considered a normal part of the human experience. Procrastination can have negative effects on mental health, productivity, and overall well-being, which is why it's important to understand why we procrastinate and how to overcome it.

The psychology of procrastination is complex, and there are several factors that contribute to this behaviour. One of the main reasons people procrastinate is fear. Fear of failure, fear of success, fear of judgment, and fear of the unknown are just a few examples. When we feel anxious or uncertain about a task, we may avoid it altogether, even if it is important.

Another reason people procrastinate is because they struggle with self-regulation. This means that they have difficulty managing their time and staying focused on the task at hand. Instead, they become distracted by other things, such as social media, television, or video games.

Additionally, some people procrastinate because they simply do not enjoy the task. If something feels boring, unpleasant, or tedious, it is easy to put it off until later. However, this can lead to a cycle of avoidance and stress, which only makes the task more difficult in the long run.

So, how can we overcome procrastination? One effective strategy is to break down the task into smaller, more manageable steps. By focusing on just one step at a time, the task can feel less overwhelming and more achievable. Additionally, setting specific goals and deadlines can help to provide structure and accountability.

Another helpful technique is to identify and challenge negative thoughts and beliefs that may be contributing to procrastination. By recognising and addressing the underlying fears and anxieties, it is possible to reduce their impact on our behaviour.

Finally, it is important to practice self-compassion and acknowledge that procrastination is a common struggle. Beating yourself up for procrastinating will only make it worse. Instead, focus on making progress and celebrating small victories along the way.

In conclusion, procrastination is a common behaviour that can have negative effects on productivity and well-being. By understanding the psychology behind procrastination and using effective strategies to overcome it, we can increase our chances of success and reduce stress and anxiety in the process.

There are many strategies that can be effective in overcoming procrastination. Here are a few:

Set specific goals and deadlines: Procrastination often stems from a lack of clear direction or structure. Setting specific goals with realistic deadlines can help you to break down a task into smaller, more manageable steps, making it easier to get started.

Create a plan of action: Once you have your goals and deadlines in place, create a plan of action to achieve them. This could include breaking the task down into smaller steps, creating a to-do list, and prioritising tasks based on importance and urgency.

Use positive self-talk: Our internal dialogue can have a big impact on our motivation and ability to get things done. Use positive self-talk to encourage and motivate yourself, rather than criticising or judging yourself for procrastinating.

Use the "Two-Minute Rule": If you're struggling to get started on a task, commit to working on it for just two minutes. Often, once you've started, you'll find it easier to keep going.

Eliminate distractions: Identify the things that distract you from the task at hand, and take steps to eliminate or minimise them. This might mean turning off your phone, closing your email inbox, or finding a quiet workspace away from others.

Break up monotony: Sometimes, procrastination can stem from boredom or a lack of interest in the task at hand. Find ways to make the task more engaging or enjoyable, such as listening to music or working in a new location.

Reward yourself: Celebrate your progress along the way by rewarding yourself for achieving small milestones or completing a task. This can help to motivate you to keep going and avoid procrastination in the future.