#i have like 8 weeks of free time ill never be able to take this year ahahahaa

[unholyeverything]

Love germany and it’s non existant overtime pay. Love it. Oh but you can take days off with ur overtime weee

/stares at my 154 extra hours that surely come cuz i have so much time to take time off/

yes.

[fernandopiastri28]

please update quand c’est on ao3/on here, I’m obsessed I read it all in one sitting😭

quand c’est - part 7 ~ ln4 x op81

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8

For Lando, for someone who has such a self hating and destructive mind- Oscar is his sanctuary. The only place he truly feels safe and at peace with the world. In an ideal world, it would just be him and Oscar. He’d be content like that.

Warnings: sickness, illness, cancer

Oscar helps him to get dressed on his day of dispatch from the hospital. They haven’t started chemo yet, waiting to see how the surgery goes before they decide whether or not he needs it. On the bright side, it means that he still has his precious curls. 

He pulls on a beanie anyways, then takes it off, stuffing it into his bag. He has no use for a beanie in Singapore- what was he thinking?

Lando uses Oscar’s shoulders to stabilise himself as the aussie helps him into a pair of grey sweatpants, smirking as he ties the knot on them. “Good look on you,” Oscar murmurs, coyly looking up at Lando from where his head is slightly tilted down.

“Dirty dog trying to get me hard in my hospital room,” Lando grins, watching the crinkles of Oscar’s smile lines deepen.

“Ah ah ah, ex hospital room,” Oscar corrects him annoyingly, waggling his finger. Lando rolls his eyes, yanking his shirt away from Oscar and putting it on himself, smug that he’s able to do it all on his own.

Yet immediately after, he just feels useless- being proud of putting on a shirt without help? He could do that when he was 5, that’s not impressive for a 24 year old- it’s just embarrassing. 

“Lando,” Oscar rests his forehead against the brit’s. Lando’s never been one to be able to mask his emotions- so it’s pretty clear that he’s down in the dumps and more than usual. “Talk to me,”

Lando sucks his cheeks in and looks up at Oscar. “Don’t wanna,” He looks off to the side, pulling down on the hem of his shirt. He feels disgustingly raw and tender, susceptible to even more damage. “I don’t want to talk about it,” He rephrases.

Oscar doesn’t budge, giving him stupid puppy dog eyes as a way to convince him, “Is it about the shirt?” Lando weakly shrugs, “Putting it on yourself?” He nods, looking at Oscar for only a fleeting second, before looking back at his unmade hospital bed. 

“Partially,” Lando chews his bottom lip, scratching his elbow. “It’s just- it’s feeling real, isn’t it?” The cancer, the tumour, the surgery, the commitment.

God, the commitment- Lando hadn’t even had time to think about that. Not only is he gonna have to spend weeks in recovery and rehab- fucking Oscar is going to have to take care of him and ‘manage’ him.

Lando doesn’t want that for Oscar, he wants Oscar to be a free man who doesn’t have to care for his boyfriend like a child, he wants Oscar to race.

“It is very real,” Oscar agrees, slipping on his backpack. He looks awfully young, kinda like a little kid ready for their first day of school. Oscar is young, and so is Lando. Maybe that’s the most difficult part of all of this- it’s happening so early in his life.

Lando hasn’t even really lived yet. A single race win, just under 20 podiums, almost 6 years in F1, not a single world championship- only 24 years old.

And he’s not ready- he’s not ready to be sick, to have a life threatening illness, to undergo surgery.

But even less than all of that- he’s not ready to die.

So he picks up his bag, holds Oscar’s hand and squeezes it with the reassurance of ‘I’ll be okay’

He’ll fake it till he makes it.

The two of them walk out of the hospital, and they make it only a few metres before they have a few people shoving cameras, phones, and hats in their faces- fans begging for attention. Lando boils with rage- the disrespect that people show them- acting like they’re fucking animals animals in a zoo. 

He pushes past them, while Oscar gives a weak smile to a few photos, trying to keep the piece. “I’m not signing,” Lando grunts, pushing away the arm of a man who looks double his age, shoving a Daniel Ricciardo McLaren shirt in his face.

The man heckles him, calling him rude for ‘not wanting to interact with fans’. Lando opens his mouth, ready to spit defences for himself and insults towards the man before Oscar yanks him away, pulling him into their awaiting car. 

They’re lucky that the car has near completely pitch black tinted windows as Lando collapses into Oscar, his head in the Australian's lap as he just sobs. “Oscar,” His voice breaks, his body just so exhausted. He’s so tired, all the time. He can hardly talk, hardly think, hardly be himself. “I- I can’t do this,”

He can’t feel like this. Lando has a reputation to uphold, he prides himself on the fact that he tries to make each and every one of his fans feel cherished and special, not like he ignores them when it doesn’t suit them. To the outside world, he’s still normal Lando, he’s still healthy Lando.

He can’t act like this out and public, he can’t let people know he’s not well.

Oscar taps their driver on the shoulder, telling him to just drive as he begins to adjust Lando- making sure he’s strapped in with his seatbelt as Lando getting injured in the possibility they crash is the last thing either of them need. When Lando’s safely in his seat, Oscar curls up into Lando, stroking his curls and kissing his head. “I’ll take care of you, baby,” He whispers against Lando’s skin.

For Lando, for someone who has such a self hating and destructive mind- Oscar is his sanctuary. The only place he truly feels safe and at peace with the world. In an ideal world, it would just be him and Oscar. He’d be content like that.

“I love you Osc, I- I don’t say it enough,” He blabbers, his words spilling out of his mouth without an end. Part of him wants to confess all the things he has always been too scared to do out of fear of rejection or judgement because there’s a nagging worry deep inside him that is telling him he’s gonna die- that the surgery is going to kill him and he’s going to die with so many unsaid thoughts and confessions.

“You say it enough,” Oscar comforts him, holding onto Lando like he’s scared the older man is going to wither away in his arms. “You do, Lans, you make me feel so loved,”

“No I don’t,” His voice comes out as a croak, his throat burning and aching from swallowing back sobs. “You have no idea how much I love yo- you’re my whole world, you’re my everything , Osco,” He can;t see it, but he knows Oscar’s smiling at that- at the nickname. It’s a sad smile though, like he knows why Lando’s confessing.

Like he knows Lando fears dying too soon.

“I love you, Lano,” He giggles, a teary one. “You’re gonna be okay, I know it- you’ve always been okay,” But Lando’s always been well enough , he’s never had something as serious as cancer. “You’re a fucking F1 driver, mate, you’re gonna beat this shit,”

It’s weirdly funny to him- he’s an F1 driver who races against the fear of death every single day, with each time he steps into that car, he has to prepare to not exit it- yet the thing that’ll most likely kill him is a mass in his brain.

He stores that thought in his mind for later, deciding to allow himself to switch off for just a bit. He wants to be numb, be putty in Oscar’s hands. “You’re right, you muppet,” He grins, the tears on his cheeks dribbling down further. For once, they both smile genuinely, and there’s hope.

Maybe not hope for recovery, but hope for Lando that Oscar won’t up and leave when it gets hard.

The remainder of the trip to get on the plane goes by in a blur. Lando’s bundled up in a huge jacket, sunglasses, a beanie, and a disposable blue medical face mask to avoid any awkward confrontation  that could send him into another spiral. Oscar does something similar, but luckily being relatively new to the sport has his perks and he goes undetected with just a face mask from his time at prema and his hood up over his head.

They sit next to each other on the plane, neither of them watching or listening to anything for the whole flight because it’s painfully overwhelming and overstimulating to Lando, and Oscar wants to keep himself level with lando. If Lando does something, Oscar does the same.

They do hold hands though, and it feels all really good. 

Mark met them at the airport, so now he’s sitting across from them on the private jet, giving the couple about as much privacy as they get from the drive to survive film crew. He’s tapping away at something on his ipad, and Oscar dramatically mocks the older man to Lando, wiggling his eyebrows and opening and shutting his mouth like a gaping goldfish- mouthing a bunch of random teases.

Lando laughs, so fond of the Australian. He officially can take the statement he made during the lie detector test back; Oscar is a funny teammate. He’s a funny boyfriend, he’s a perfect boyfriend, he’s a perfect boy- he’s perfect.

They make a little game out of trying to kiss as much as they can without getting a reaction out of Mark, and they’re successful for a bit, alternating between pecks and deeper kisses, stifling laughs each time they pull apart and their eyes dart to where Mark is truly invested in whatever is going on his screen.

It's a solid 15 minutes into their little game when Mark, without looking up, finally speaks, “I can clearly see you two kissing- I just chose not to say anything,” He announces, confirming that he did know what they were trying to do. 

The two boys turn slightly red, looking at eachother with huge grins. Once again, feeling like teenagers being caught. It’s nice though, kissing without consequence. Mark is also a part of the small group of people who know about their relationship- basically being Oscar’s second dad and all, so they’re really allowed to do whatever. 

Whatever in reason , that is.

So, when Mark falls asleep, Lando gives Oscar a slight nudge in the arm. He’s feeling good, having recently taken some of his strong medication that is the only non-drowsy one. It was a calculated decision- he had plans.

Or, he has plans. Plans involving Oscar and the plane bathroom.

Fuck yeah. Fuck being sick, Lando's gonna make the most of his final days before surgery and join the infamous mile high club.

[hermit-pride]

Day: 8. I didn't post yesterday but laid in bed trying to sleep. It seems that working the overnight has maybe caught up with me after most of 40 years. I've always liked night shift. Fewer people, fewer interruptions, fewer managers, directors, administrators and The Joint Commission has never graced the night shift with its presence.

But that's not what this post is about. My mind was scheming; one way I fantasize. I have about five different posts roughed out in my head. I thought I'd start with this ...

I try to be positive when I'm masking, especially. When ppl ask how I'm doing and I'm not doing great I say "good". If I'm doing my usual (well enough) I say "excellent". I'm a firm believer in "fakit til ya makit".

(So, that isn't what this post is about either).

I try to think about the positive aspects of whatever being schizoid most of my life has been positive.

One important thing is being able to control my emotions and be calm, cool, and collected in situations which may be difficult. One example is that I have never been in a fight, brawl, or situation to harm anyone. However, I have lost my composure three times.

In second grade a very emotional girl named Arlene directed her emotional energy at me and I reacted by slapping her. In seventh grade Chuck and I got into some silly argument and I ended up taking him down (wrestling style). And when I was in the 9th grade the same happened with Mike but he took ME down, wrestling style. He apparently had some training and I was in a painful pin in no time.

My point being, I'm certain that my schizoid personality has kept me out of trouble.

On a pivot here, these past few months that I have been spending a significant amount of time refamiliarizing myself with reality I am discovering that some of my behaviors that seemed (almost) normal are now laid bare to the truth. A good example is the fact that I have never had a close friend. OK, I lied, my wife is my only close friend.

I guess I really never thought about it. Never had the urge to have one. My wife picked me (thank the gods) or I would have likely never had one. I lacked the skills, the desire, or a sense of needing others that a neurotypical possesses.

I don't dislike people. I just don't "like" them enough to spend any of my free time with them. I spend about 36 hours a week at work, 2-4 hours a week grocery shopping and at doctor's appointments. Otherwise I'm a hermit. I don't even do much yard work. Between my ADHD with serious execution deficiency and my schizoid avolition and "does it really matter" outlook, I struggle to keep things going at home. My wife always used to help motivate me and also help with the inside chores. The last year or more, with her several chronic illnesses she spends an average of 15 minutes a day out of bed plus bathroom breaks. Her doctor's appointments are a struggle.

So with schizoid I never have been a goal setter. But I do have one goal. To remain autonomous and to be able to care for my wife for as long as she has. That is enough 🤍💛.

PS. This is meant to be a "Smart Journal" and somewhat therapeutic in nature. I invite you to add thoughtful comments and criticisms in reply.

[bigwishes]

Questions Answered

I have gotten quite a few questions in my ask inbox and DMs. a lot of them are a very similar vein and I haven’t answered them because been busy with the holidays. Now I have a bit of time I thought I’d smash some out (still feel free to DM me if these answers create more questions or you had one I didn’t answer)

Q1) Do you take roids/plan on taking roids? A1) No, and I don’t think I ever will. For a few reasons, 1 being I like the idea of being natty even if it means Ill never really reach my goal and 2 being my family already has some thinks like heart disseise that is genetic and I don’t really feel like dealing roids onto the table Q2) How long have you been working out/ Why didn’t you start earlier A2) consistently I have been working out for about a 8 months, although a lot of that has been learning what I am doing and studying form so I can push myself in 2023 without injury. As for why I didn’t start earlier I grew up in a remote community in the outback and we didn’t have a gym, I learnt what bodybuilding was about 18/19 and push ups only get you so far, but now I live closer to civilisation and am trying to get my grind on. Q3) what kind of guys do you like other than bodybuilders? would you date a twink? A3) I like other kinds of guys, a bloke doesn’t have to be a bodybuilder to catch my fancy but he does need to be into fitness and lifting and that’s more out of a shared interest thing. I want to date a guy who’ll work out with me and push me in the gym, go on hikes with me and other stuff and just in my experience twinks aren’t for me.  Q4) do you have a picture of what you wanna look like? A4) yep,

again unknown how close I’ll ever get to my goal going full natty but my plan is to put on as much muscle as I can naturally gain.

Q5) do you want to compete A5) I have thought about it, it’d just be a minor thing, nothing too big but possibly? don’t really know yet. But I do know I definitely want a poser when I have some more mass, those things are fucking hot.

Q6) will we ever get pics? A6) probably not. Sorry for people who wants pics of my progress but no. I dunno there may be a chance in the future when I like my body a bit more but even then I’d need to be careful as I am studying for a government job.

Q7) do you have other fantasies or just muscle growth? A7) yeah, a few others. It kind of came out of no where a few weeks ago but race change, the idea of staying the same person but at the same time becoming an entirely different person is very hot to me. Also sweat and B.O

Q8) Do you actually want to be sweaty all the time? A8) in fantasy yes, but I know in reality that is not possible with work. However there is nothing stopping me from hitting the gym and enjoying the stink for a few hours after. Not to mention it takes about 20-30 minutes of scrubbing to even wash it out because I am hairy as and it gets stuck. [as a bonus answer same goes for burping, I know I wouldn’t be able to forever but there is something about it that makes me feel sexy when I’m belching after a work out]

Q9) can I fund your growth for pics? A9) I’ve had a fair few guys message me asking if I have a pateron or somewhere they can send me money to see my progress and fun my progress and whilst the gym is expensive no, but unlike the pics in general where I dunno if ill get to a point of liking myself to post pics I don’t think I’ll ever make a pateron to fund my progress. Q10) what is something you think you’ll do when you get bigger? A10) Flex and wear underwear haha, once I start getting bigger I definitely see myself flexing in the mirror in my underwear for at least an hour a day. Hopefully one day Ill have the perfect storm of being big, having a massive pump, sweating up a storm and belching out my protein bloat.

Hope all the people who have been waiting for their answers got their questions answered. If not or if you have more you can always send in an ask or DM me.

[conduitandconjurer]

sorry this got long, so keep scrolling if you aren’t in a headspace for a mutual to vent ooc. 

i’m upset for stupid reasons that, i think, go back to bigger or deeper things IRL.

i’m upset that i’ve been too busy as my mother’s sole caretaker OR playing frantic catch-up at work (i’m a professor and it involves a LOT of grading, lecturing, reading, and writing, and frankly extracurricular things like counseling and reporting concerns about students’ emotional or physical safety) to do things like shower, sleep 7-8 hours a night, eat as healthily as i should, exercise, and most of all, do ANYTHING creative to my own satisfaction. it has been more than a WEEK since i have showered! it has been since JUNE since i have even started a complete, finished, full-color artwork. 

yeah, i know the positivity drill: “you create things for your own joy, not to be good at them.” but i only enjoy making things (image or word) that i can do with a certain degree of thoroughness and depth. i don’t like to half-ass anything. there’s also executive dysfunction borne of crippling anxiety and depression, which are more situational (C-PTSD) than the result of brain chemistry.

so i’m mad. i’m sad. i’m lonely. i’m tired. i want to just have some semblance of a normal adult life. i have not had a normal life since i was diagnosed with an incurable, progressively worsening illness AT AGE SIX. and i have let it get MUCH worse (my kidneys, stomach, eyes, lymph nodes, and blood vessels are all so badly damaged that there is no fixing them, there is just praying they don’t get worse, and now all sensation in my hands is going too: i can barely type this) because i’ve had to take over for my mother (no, insurance won’t help us, believe me, i’ve looked into it: she’s on dialysis but somehow “not sick enough”) and i have NO TIME to see my OWN doctors and do the necessary lifestyle changes to make MYSELF any better. i want to take a shower, and have energy to do anything after that. i want to go on a date. hell, i have a new boyfriend, but i find dating him to be a chore that i dread because i am so fucking drained by the end of the week that I’d rather just go to bed. 

i want to be selfish. i just want to be SELFISH for ONE DAY. 

but i know that’s not realistic.  i mean i live in a world where everyone, EVERYONE, that i know, has just gone back to attending major events maskless, even though COVID is still surging. people like me are apparently expendable; we’re “sick anyway,” so if we die, it’s “expected.”  we get left behind and NO ONE NOTICES. 

i won’t be able to do Sheehantober/Sheetober, whatever it’s called, that super cool thing with all the creative prompts. 

i won’t be able to draw/paint the entire notebook of ideas i’ve had waiting for “free time” since last february.

i won’t have time to answer my drafts here, that have been sitting since may.

i won’t be able to even catch up on Discord threads, and I CAN’T EVEN FIND THE TIME TO CELEBRATE KLAUS’S BIRTHDAY WITH GOOFY LIGHT HEARTED SIMPLE THINGS. I FUCKING FORGOT ABOUT IT ENTIRELY. 

but honestly THAT DOESN’T MATTER EITHER, because i haven’t had the time to form many meaningful connections with people (aside two lovely souls who know who they are) in this fandom, and nobody inboxes me or responds to my open starters anyway.  plus if they did, i’d probably be too sick or tired to do a thing about it. 

mom just spilled perishable stuff all over the kitchen floor trying to get her own food, so now i have to go mop that up even though my sciatica is so bad that i’m sweating. this weekend, i have to somehow find time to get a house cleaner, inventory and remove extra dialysis supplies (32 HEAVY boxes to cover), find and buy a table with very specific parameters to hold a dialysis cycler, etc etc etc). a day in the life. 

and you think, “can’t you ask somebody to help?” friend, if you say that, you have never experienced TRUE chronic illness, and how very quickly people you are close to become “too busy” to help when they have to interact with (noncommunicable!) illness, and acknowledge their OWN mortality. 

[slut4sway]

Anywherebound / Chapter V : drowning in our fiery river

If I had a chance, babe To go back in time, maybe I'd try a time or two This life took you in, babe The same life that reminds me I could never love me like you do

•

The best things in life are free and need to be let go

So take one last good look Let's share one last cigarette I'll be gone by the time you're ashin' it Stop askin' things you know the answers to There ain't no world in which I am good for you

And we're layin' on the roof of my car Feelin' young, feelin' numb, feelin' starved Of all the things a moment can be This one's best kept a memory How the kindest parts of my mind are you and me

•

❤️‍🩹•••••••••••••••••••🏜️

Trevor's journal entry: i don't necessarily miss the old you. more of the way you made me feel. the old you wouldn't have been able to keep up with this. the old you were too innocent, hardly jaded. i kind of miss being like that too. ill savor every last burning glow until we are man enough to set this alight.

notes : remastered version of zach bryan's this road i know poem in here!

6/3/23

10:07am

One week since the interaction after the party that had happened.

7 days. 8 hours. 24 minutes; and the seconds counting down at abnormal haste. The days have just been wasting away, and empty promises were broken despite not having anything to be broken. Since the draft year, everything has just been numb. Sure, being able to play together again which they always dreamed of as a kid was nice, but there was always some unexplainable void missing.

History with Trevor and Jamie is like a giant fucking rollercoaster. One night they were the average boy duo, and the next Jamie was in Trevor's bed and vice-versa. Doing stupid shit never changed, though. Whether it be running around abandoned buildings, doing drugs laced with a ton of dangerous substances Trevor found off the street that should've killed them, or in general just fucking around; nothing ever seemed to change. Just an endless cycle of ups and downs that deceived and ruined them to the point trusting anything good was impossible since it would be so unpredictable where it would end up. Juxtaposition is a way to describe it, not knowing where the road leads but knowing exactly where it ends.

It's like a premonition that someone would get late at night lying in their bed endlessly pondering the purpose of their souls being on this fucking floating rock. These fever dreams, a vision of sorts were hard to figure out; not knowing why but knowing exactly why. When not knowing where the hell someone could be but knowing exactly where. Feeling the gravel underneath the tires. Where it's pitch black, and the car is warm but still able to feel the cold November night air, and the presence of someone who isn't there. Driving for the longest time and all that's visible are the high beams burning down the highway, for what seems like growing perpetuity. Where everything is empty and hopeless and desolate and nothing is around for miles beside the particles of dust swirling around in the headlights like moths drawn to a light. Where being lost and knowing exactly where the destination is; is just custom. The nothingness keeps the car and that someone safe, warm, and driving until they see a small porch light glowing in the distance; a low one burning dim that grows closer and slightly stronger while it flickers. The closer that someone gets the more they see, enough to make out a house with fairy lights strewn inside. Several familiar cars with windshields frosted over that looked like they hadn't been disturbed for days until a faint song that someone can't make out the name but they know every lyric. They start to feel, noticing their disassociation dissipating away and the feeling in their feet coming back. It's cold and they're crunching on the thin layer of snow blanketing the area that stretched for miles and miles and miles, just letting their feet take them from muscle memory. The wind takes the sound of their breath with it, and they make it up to the door and they knock when they feel they don't have to. Not knowing where they are but knowing exactly where they are. The crack of fairy lights inside widens on the doormat laid on the porch that just seems to welcome them without needing any design on it; just the dusted footprints smudged across the scraggly fur of it being lit up by the lights. A boy opens the door, with the biggest smile the world ever could have witnessed if they were there. Some boy that someone could not know yet know so well, with the warmest and most approachable home they'd ever seen. It's warm-toned and comfortable-looking, with a fire and the bulb-lit living room.

''Where have you been? I've been waiting for you all night? I missed you?'' He says, tapering off the sentence with a peaceful sound that a boy his age makes; finding peace in whatever post-adolescent and mature rage he had. Grabbing them by the forearms and pulling them into the living room; there are people. They're content, and they're happy; people someone who has no idea who they are but know exactly who they are, laughing at a joke they'll never hear again. He tucks his head between his collar and jaw, but there's no weight at all. It's laughter and grins and no tomorrow to fight for since it will be waiting for them. Where someone doesn't know where they are but knows exactly where they are.

The someone is Trevor. He knows exactly where he'd end up if he kept up with these habits, and kept up with Jamie.

Jamie was crushed cans of IPA's and Coors Light. He was a liquor-soaked, smoke-choked jacket a boy would give someone after running from the cops after a party and hiding out in the woods behind their house. He was a scratchy cheek stubble and ''Oh, Trev..'' when Trevor would do something dumb. He was days of not leaving his house, hotboxing his old bedroom in his childhood home, and laughing off his high with Trevor by his side, following suit. He was months of not taking care of himself and letting himself get pale and skinny. Sometimes a silence, and sometimes too much noise. A strange laughter that could make him laugh while trying to be the tough guy, until there was no more laughing and he was walking away as the door slams for the 17th, 18th, 19th, time. He was fighting Trevor every night, and he was the guilt and responsibility every time he relapsed because Jamie couldn't control his emotions and mood swings. Jamie is the need to help but then lands himself in another shitty situation. He was the boy that Trevor's mom loved and said he talked about 24/7, and that he was a keeper. He was told by Trevor he was worth it, and he is the constant thought of: ''Do you still think that?".

Trevor was 3am, climbing through his window, ounces of weed, and blowing smoke out into the chilly northern air. He was the truth in his words when he promised he wouldn't leave him, because no matter what Jamie would do or how many times he left him; he couldn't stand living without him, since that dark-haired shy Canadian boy was a piece of him he needed to function. He was bottles of emptied liquor. He was pouring out both Jamie's and his alcohol every time they tried to detox and attempt to quit. Trevor was the loud-mouthed boy who came running back to Jamie, smirking with a busted lip because he was so damn cocky and annoying. He was the boy Jamie's mother would hear about for hours on end, about how much he loved but hated him. He was the one Jamie always had under him. He was the one Jamie loved, but the one they grew sideways and into each other, and instead of growing healthy and strong as they should; their worlds collided and the gates of hell seemed to bust open. But most of all, he was the boy who wore the jacket that Jamie was.

They used to work. The same cycle of ''I'm sorry's'' and ''I love you's'' and ''We'll do it for real, this time's'' always seemed to cut it. Same goddamn cycle.

Wash, rinse, fucking repeat.

•

''Sorry for um.. everything really.''

sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry

Jamie tried to cut that word out. He was never really sorry enough to break the pattern. It just came back; tougher, meaner, and stronger with the apathy his false apologies held and released.

Trevor's fiery, slowly dimming hair and unruly curls curtained over his eyes. Jamie's voice clouded over in his head until he could make out his face that was tattooed in his brain. Disassociation, everyone calls it; feeling light and heavy at the same time, where nothing feels natural but they feel too real to exist.

The younger boy reached out his hands to touch Trevor's, as he lay next to him in the bed of the truck. His big hands; so chapped and methodical with speckles of coke in his fingernails reached out to stroke Trevor's soft, bitchboy hands. Trevor was a bitch. An annoying little bitch. Jamie's bitch.

He made eye contact with Jamie, as the summer Californian sun beat down on them. The dark-haired boy's face was like a picture or a polaroid photograph plated in gold around the edges. Trevor stared at him, his eyes heavy and half-lidded. It was so hot out, Jamie's idea to hang out on the foothills was such a shitty idea. Hot enough that they were wishing they had a river to jump into and get rid of all their worries

A river that would hurt so much to make; the pain was nagging and constantly following them around like a lost puppy. All at once, breathing like a bull in a rodeo chute, the pain would rush in and pull them under fiercely until all they could do was drown.

''You aren't. Stop bullshitting me.'' Trevor said with an unkind, rough rasp. Because when someone loves someone else, they shouldn't need to say sorry, right? They shouldn't have to even do anything worth apologizing for. But hey, newsflash boys; not everything is so happy-go-fucking-lucky like the movies. It was all a goddamn blur. Every night blended together with the hangovers caused by each other's mistakes. Where might someone put a person who apologizes to them for wrongdoing? The dead, the alive, the ones that hover like ghosts. Trevor is alive after giving Jamie every last piece of him; staying with him thick and thin even if that meant piercing the veil he wore to protect himself. He's alive, but more like a soulless corpse that walks around acting and looking like a zombie. With his sunken, dark-circled eyes and watching the world from a distance. Even with Jamie where the world seemed like it was coated in gold, it was just a glimpse of what could've been. Some people just don't work.

''I try to be. I want..'' Jamie trails off, gazing at Trevor with a longing look.

''Us. Do you want us...?'' The kindest parts of Jamie's heart is with Trevor and Trevor only. Nobody reads him the way Trevor does. Nobody has stuck with him the way he does. He's the part of his mind he keeps wrapped tightly together with layers and layers of protection around. If he had the chance, he would somehow change the road that lead to the shape they were in, in a heartbeat. He's so starved for Trevor. So. Fucking. Starved. There is no world they are good for each other, and the hope they could create one is long gone by now.

''Quit asking questions you know the answers to.'' Trevor wants them. More than anything. Nothing can change the past and how much they broke each other, and trying to pick up the pieces just cut their hands to shreds.

''Yeah. Sorry.''

sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry

Jamie and his sorry attempts. He wishes he could just brush the hair from Trevor's face and tell him: sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry.

Trevor hasn't left yet, but there's still a distance between them. A void where everything has been lost, and fed back into the blur.

''...I don't wanna leave. I don't. I fucking don't. But you made me realize we aren't good for each other. We just don't.'' The breeze of the foothills swayed Trevor's hair, and took his choking voice with it.

''I know, but I don't know if this will be the last time cause-''

''Just shut up. I don't wanna hear it. Just wanna spend what time I have left with you before my clock runs out and I have to get my ass up and bring myself back home; and god.. sort out shit with the league and all this..'' His words were endearing yet aggressive because he wanted to stay with Jamie, even though he had a deadline with him. God knows Jamie hates deadlines. Trevor interlaced his fingers with Jamie, breathing in the scent of booze and weed as he tucked his head between the younger boy's collar and jaw. Trevor felt electric for the first time in a while, like the same electric blue in Jamie's dead eyes.

''What even happened? I wanna know what the fuck happened.'' Jamie blurted out, trying to close the dam and keep the river of words from flowing out over Trevor and drowning him.

''I know, but I don't. My guess is we got too fucked up somewhere on the road, maybe when our first season started. I think we might have just gotten a little too buzzed to the point where nothing was fun anymore. Yeah, we fucked a ton and whatever, but we stopped having fun a long time ago. I kind of miss getting mad at you over stupid shit, like pokemon cards or something the way we used to as kids. When we were simple, ya know? How we wouldn't be getting eaten alive by the question of why? Now I kind of feel better, cause I know why. Life was stressful when we first started, and my depression spiraled with yours and we just got so filled with anger and emotions we couldn't explain where we pushed each other away then came back, drank a little, smoked a little, was toxic cause we could never love each other if we didn't love ourselves. Life is just full of random shit nobody can explain. Ain't it funny?'' Instead of the world caving in above them, it seemed to open up. Trevor opened the locked door that hid what their problems really were, and this could be huge if they didn't fuck it up.

''Mhm... guess it is.'' Jamie's apathy never was so fucking fake. Inside, he knows what he could've done to prevent those problems. Fixing himself instead of leaving Trevor the responsibility until the weights cracked his collarbones and made him relapse.

Not fucking up starts with what Trevor said; loving themselves first. That would mean leaving each other for a while, at least enough time to glue themselves back together. It's hard to pay attention to oneself when someone they love is out there dying because they couldn't bare the thought of being alone, much less the unexplainable emotions.

Maybe it would hurt a little less when they left, but for now, they had to stick to remembering the good times. The hickeys were in only places they could see. The cute dates they would go on when they were young and simple. Trevor settled into Jamie's space even more, breathing in his scent as they laid in the back of their truck. Hopefully, it would be enough.

Go ahead and share a bottle, boys.

They'll both be packed and ready to leave by the time it's drained.

[sierrabinondo]

2022

~5-10 minute read (depending on how fast you can read i guess lmao)

it’s time!!! my annual recap of the year where i detail as much as i can remember as possible because i will 100% forget most of it in the near future. kind of depressing, kind of fun!

i took a peep at the 2021 post and...my god. ohhhh no. lmaooooooooo

in some ways 2022 was better than 2021. where it was worse, it was worse than i could have ever imagined. i was in a very terrible place for the better part of this year. thankfully, a lot of positive things still happened. so,,,without further ado,,,

i went into this year with, again, lofty expectations. i was convinced 2022 would be uber busy and explosive for WSA. the beginning of the year was rly quiet. it was basically just about recording acid redux and getting prepped for our first tour since 2019. for the first time ever, i was entrusted with drawing the tour ad mat. it was so difficult but i’m glad i was able to contribute. i needed to have that experience because i had never done a piece that big before, and i need to do more of those.

my job situation at the time was FUCKING terrible. anyone who is close to me knows how toxic the environment was at eventide. it was really getting to me. i was making an incredible amount of mistakes and i felt myself shrink every time i needed to be in a zoom call with my superiors. i came to hate my job so, so much. eventually, i lost my job around end of february. i already had a new position lined up (i feel like they knew because i updated my linkedin and they FUCKING said something to me about it) but it wasn’t the way i wanted to go. whereas i was panicking losing my job pre-pandemic, i was just angry i had no control over my exit. 

another thing that cushioned the blow of losing my job was almost being on the b****** album. pulses. wrote to him that i should be on his next record and he liked murder mountain so much that he contacted me. he reached out a week prior to me being let go, and that kicked off a really cool period of the year. so then i get this cool opp, no longer have to show up to this job i loathe, get a month off, accept a new job offer during this short break, go on tour, and come back to a new job. that was probably the best part of the year. it was great because i had zero idea what was coming lmao

getting a month off was a FUCKING blessing. the only huge downside was that my credit card debt became INFINITELY worse. in 2020 i was privileged to be paid to not work for the entire year and it was one of my favorite years of my life. i will take any chance i can get to experience that again, i.e. having a month and a half free from working. i got to go collision with my twitch friends that i FINALLY got to meet in person, finally hung out with donis, bren, frankie and christy after not having seen them in years, took brawly on long ass walks every day, and drew a lot. it was a relief to have so much downtime WHILE prepping for tour.

most of all. in that period of time, i finally started listening to twice. i don’t know if it was just hitting extra because i was in a transitional period at the time, but it only took a week before i was FULLY fucking indoctrinated. i. love. kpop. i love it!! so much!!! like yes, i know i’m mentally ill, but it’s like cocaine. it’s addicting. i spent the year learning the choreo to two full twice songs then the main chorus parts for about 10 other random songs for other groups laksjdl;akjsdf. i literally hadn’t danced since performing arts hs. i only have like a handful of friends i sometimes see who fuck with kpop and it’s killing me lmao help 

i won’t spend too much time on it because there’s like 8 other entries below this one about it, but we spent a week of april on tour with pulses. and IMAY for WCII and it was probably THE best thing that happened this year. our shortest run ever, and our most successful. i am so thankful we got to finally tour again, and it was better than i could have imagined. i really hoped at the time it wasn’t going to be our last tour for the year, but things fell apart (i’ll get to that lmao) so it sadly was our only run.

when i came back from tour, i had my first-ever subathon. i had so much trouble running things smoothly, but it was so much fun. it was a wonderful way to celebrate the folks in my community and everything we’ve done together over the last two years. couldn’t be more grateful for them!!! 

in may we played beers 4 tears fest with a shit ton of our friends and it was chaos. i have never played a set trashed before then, and i will NEVER do it again. oh my god. and to my dismay, the evidence is on full display on youtube. so yeah. we wanted to actually enjoy ourselves at the fest and drink red tank beer, but we had to play fucking last at near midnight lmao. one of our worst sets, but it was a fun day and i’m glad we got to be a part of it.

i also finally got covid! that was fucking awful! and i’m pretty sure i am experiencing some form of long covid. i have never been so tired in my life and if feel winded more easily. it really sucked. i wish i could have avoided it, but it’s absolutely impossible now. thankfully, i didn’t get it again for the remainder of the year.

in june, my uncle passed suddenly. it was so devastating, and he died way too young. he had health complications throughout his life, but i never, ever thought he’d go this soon; they were never life-threatening. in may, i knew he was in and out of the hospital, but my mom was frequently visiting him and insisted it wasn’t crtiical. then, out of nowhere, he’s in serious condition after a procedure and the doctors are swearing up and down they can’t do anything to help him. my aunt and mom had just gone to a second doctor for his opinion and said there was something that could be done to save him, but they couldn’t get him what he needed in time. i still to this day can’t grasp that he’s gone. 

in both june and august, my band was invited to DJ emo nite baltimore (and eventually emo nite asbury, which we bombed hard lmao) which was shocking to us, but considering we’d get to hang with pulses., and the emo nite crew, there was no way we were turning that down. that was such a fun weekend trip to baltimore. for baltimore we were lucky to have our set earlier in the night so that made things a little easier but we still felt so awkward on stage just dancing around with no instruments hahaha. dropping smooth to a room full of 300 emo zoomers was hilarious. afterwards, alexa put us up overnight and cooked brunch for all fucking like 15 of us. it was so so lovely. 

over the course of the year, i got to hang out with pulses. SO often. out of all my friendships with anyone, ours is thriving so fucking hard. we really make this long distance stuff work with no issue :’) for the better part of 2022 they’d make the drive to us, but i made trips down to them in august, october and november. in july they came down to go see thursday with jaime and i. every time we’d hang, we stayed up til like 3-4 am drinking and watching music videos. in the fall, we saw shows in VIP at soundstage together and those shows were even better because we had seats lmao. i got to hang out more with adam, carlos and the emo nite crew more, and i’m glad we had more time to chill!! 

as i mentioned earlier this year, i got a new job. i actually really, really like it. i will never romanticize a job- they’re all going to have their imperfections- but holy shit, i am actually not waking up every day feeling crippling anxiety about having to work. i have ample PTO (almost a month’s worth). i work with really amazing, like-minded people who actually believe in boundaries and having a life outside of their jobs. the work i do feels like it means something. and i am actually not afraid of my manager and/or boss. i have never felt even the slightest bit positive about a past position, but i do here. and these people got me out to CALIFORNIA and SPAIN this year. so yeah, out of nowhere, i get a new job and find out two months after i start that i’m going to los angeles for a few days. then, i spent a week in september in spain, which overlapped with my birthday. normally, i vehemently reject having to do anything outside of M-F office hours (even parties), but those were two of my favorite parts this year. i absolutely fell in love with LA and i did so much exploring in spain. most of all.....i ate so much good fucking food. to think that, i not only got a way healthier work experience with this new position after going through HELL, but i also got to travel? that’s incredible. and i very much adore the people on my team. they make me want to actually... care about my job

my 30th birthday was this year. i tried so hard to rent a place for it but what the fuck it’s SO expensive. so we ended up throwing the biggest rager we’ve ever had at our house. IT WAS SO MUCH FUN and i wish i could have spent more time with everyone that came. karaoke ruled, THE FOOD SPREAD WAS INCREDIBLE (TY TO MY FAMILY AND KRISTEN) and we partied hard as fuck. so many people came through, and it was an honor to have so many amazing people show up for me (even driving HOURS to be there). i have the best fucking people in my life,,,,,ever. i really do. and i’m so lucky.

i never thought this was ever going to happen but this year i ended up joining nintendo noise! truthfully, i had secretly gotten started in like may or june hehe. never ever thought i would end up being a podcaster. i was elated when pete and steve asked me to join as a co-host and i wanted to do whatever i could to make it work. i am obviously not the most knowledgeable guy when it comes to video games, but it’s been a blast getting to talk games every other week with them. pete and steve alone have been my favorite duo to listen to since 2017, and i’ve known pete since 2010. i’ve learned a lot from listening to their past shows, and now being on a show with them. i know i’m really passionate about music, but i’ve also come to realize that video games are equally as much of an important part of my life. so it’s incredible to also be involved with them in this way, thanks to my friends :’) and i get ANOTHER platform to tell everyone that they should be playing digimon,,,,,,

that really cool feature i landed at the beginning of the year ended up not happening. i really thought, “there’s no way after he paid me half and we put in all this work together that he would just ghost me” but he did. but i’m grateful i even got the opportunity, and i know it means i was worthy of getting there. whatever happened was out of my control, and i came to accept that. it’s not my song. i have my feelings on the way the situation was handled, but it’s all in the past. just! don’t meet your heroes, folks!

in september, WSA stopped playing shows to focus on the full length. i don’t know what happened but we just didn’t get it done this year. as of the time i’m writing this, all main guitars are done and fully tracked, some drums still need to be done, and ALL of the vocals need to be tracked (i just got started last night). the thing i try to keep saying to myself to calm my anxieties about it is that- we only get one chance to drop this album, and once it’s out, we get about a week of people’s attention. that’s it. so, if we have to take our time, so be it. but it’s 100% coming out next year IT HAS TO AT THIS POINT LMFAO

and that was really the rest of my year. enjoying the holidays (cosplayed as mirko for halloween :-----) and trying to stay productive. every time december rolls around i try really hard to make it a fun holiday season, but i end up getting too busy :((( december was also a scary month for me, mentally. my depression has been worsening as of late but i’m trying really hard to work through it.

i also realized this year that i have a lot of friendships that have stood the test of time, and it’s okay if we’re not always in sync! i spent a lot of my mid 20′s second guessing the people in my life, but i don’t have to anymore. i know that i have incredible friends who will always be there for me if i need them. so now i just need to learn how to be a better friend to myself.

it was a really tough year, and there’s so much i wish i could do over, but the good that came with 2022 was ultimately really positive. tons of fun gigs, dozens of late nights forcing my friends to watch buff correll, drunk heart to hearts, lots of kind new faces, and an abundance of laughs. i think this year a lot of foundation was laid for 2023 to be really cool. i’m crossing my fingers and keeping my expectations as low as i can lmao.

so if you read this far, i’m sorry HAHA. but thanks? i hope to come back this time next year with some good news. a lot can happen in 12 months.

[save-the-spiral]

Wiztober 2022 Day Eight: Existential

part of maliswap :) ill properly link stuff when its not past my bedtime and i have an 8 hr shift tomorrow so. dedicated to @woop02 ty ty ty for the feedback and likes!!

content warning for child neglect, child abuse, emotional abuse, manipulation, funerals, grief, dead parents and stuff.

(Prompt List) (buy me coffee?) (Maliswap AU Masterpost)

Your father dies and the world ends with him. You hear secondhand news of it and run back home to Wizard City, away from the life you made for yourself in Marleybone.

You return and your mother is nearly catatonic with grief. You speak to your uncle and he hides his own grief with biting words that bring you to tears, embarrassed and ashamed to have even asked, as if you had no right to know how your father died.

At some point you get the message and stop trying to involve yourself in any of it, the funeral planning, the funeral itself, the grief. You don’t speak at the funeral itself, instead just standing there with a trained stoicism so you don’t shatter into a million pieces.

Already you want to go back to your shitty flat in Marleybone, where the water pressure is awful and you scrounge to properly feed yourself but at least you are free and left well enough alone. You forgot how much the ambient magic of Ravenwood grates at your skin, makes it hard to breathe.

You sit in your empty childhood bedroom, waiting for an opportunity to go back home, when your mother finally speaks to you after weeks of nothing.

She offers, yet again, to teach you magic. You nearly dismiss her immediately.

You are not good with magic. You cannot cast spells. Your mana is nonexistent, and so casting magic draws only on your health, breaking your body down in substitute. There is a reason you chose Marleybone, where magic is less common and even frowned upon in some circles, as a home.

Your mother brings you a book, however. It is not Life or Death or even Myth like your family has tried to teach you before. A dark swirling spiral inside of a squared triangle rests in the middle, gleaming mercurial in the light of your lamp. You don’t plan on reading the book, but take it anyway because this is your mother giving it and she is already so fragile with grief and its the first time she’s spoken to you since you moved out of the house nearly five years ago now.

The book sits on your nightstand for only a few hours before you succumb to boredom and curiosity and read it.

And it makes so much sense.

Magic always hurts you, but this magic is made to hurt. It is a balanced trade in exchange for changing something so integral to the fabric of the universe, for bending the light that weaves the celestial schools, for twisting the wizard that is made of the spiritual schools, for the change of the fundamental pieces of the universe that is the elemental schools.

This would be worth it, you think. 

It is late enough for your brain to buzz and eyes to ache when you finish reading the book. You did not realize how absorbed you were, how thoroughly you immersed yourself in the new knowledge.

How easy it was to read, for being in a language you don’t know, a language that has been dead for eons.

When you ask your mother about why she gave you the book, she seems to almost smile and its enough for you to not question her vague answer.

The magic of the shadow school is something new, something you can finally handle. You can finally become the wizard your father and mother and uncle wanted you to be, powerful and able to defend yourself. Able to make changes and live as you want.

Your mother gives you advice, tells you to write down your experiences. She gives you exercises to attempt and says they’re a part of standard magical training that you never got after failing to even cast a firecat without coughing up blood as a kid.

This magic, this guidance, it gives you a purpose in the grand scheme of the Spiral. It gives you what you’ve lacked for so long. It gives you so much and you return in kind as one should, as is only polite.

You give so much of yourself away until there is so little left.

Your mother is so proud of you.

[tokyoleo]

this blog is contaminated with leo kurosagi brainrot, approach with caution

no one is safe i will ramble to anyone until i pass out and then start all over again

ive been working on a sona for weeks but i keep getting distracted

i am in love with literally all of them they should explode

MC sona that im working on under :

Let's try to balance being a perfect student and a menace

Name: Mika Momoka (美香 桃花 • みか ももか)

Age: in her early 20s

Birthday: August 8

Specie: Ghoul, Human formerly

Cursed?: Not this one!

Stigma: Passive (still figuring out the incantation)

Mika is able to sense danger in her environment, ranging from small risks to deadly certainties. She can find violent people or anomalies, dodge incoming attacks and distinguish between bluffing or genuine threat by paying attention to the feeling in her chest. She can also detect ill intent, like if a person lies specifically to hurt someone else. If her focus is disturbed or she gets overwhelmed by too many dangers, her stigma becomes useless.

A peculiar first year student fucked up and now has the sage's ring glued to her finger. The Chancellor took this opportunity to throw her in the spotlight- Mika hates it.

Personality:

Mika seems like a polite, discrete girl at first. Amicable, hardworking and passionate, it looks like she fits in the honor student role just fine!

But, Mika is, in fact, going insane. All she wanted was to do whatever she desired while passing under the radar. Be sneaky and avoid conflict or consequences; that was the strategy for all her life. Now, her job is to interact with all of the other quirky students? Mika has to cut herself off from swearing all the time because someone is always here. Fuck.

She tones down her clothes, makeup and eccentric personality at school, hoping to smoothly sail over the storm completely unnoticed. While she's annoyed at her responsibilities, she does enjoy the many, many perks being the 'honor student' gives her, so, she plays into the dumb role Darkwick gave her. However, she just keeps slipping up; saying the damned things on her mind, getting into stupid shenanigans, taking risks left and right... She tries so hard, she really does! But she also can't help but be herself. The more she denies herself that freedom, the more she feels herself grow restless.

Appearance:

Height: 5'7" without heels

Hair: A gradient from light blond to a slightly darker peach color. It's long and has some volume. The ends are pink but faded- did she dye her hair in the past?

Eyes: Bright but pale teal. Light eyebags. She likes to wear makeup like eyeshadow, eyeliner, gloss and mascara, but tries her best to wear only natural colors while out on campus.

Uniform: The classic honor student uniform, customized here and there for personal flare. Never wears the jacket, even in winter. It's too thick and heavy. She likes to wear cardigans over the blouse instead. Her shoes have a higher heel.

Casual Style : She mixes the fashion styles of gal, coquette and grundge! Cute and insanely girly but with an edge.

Trivia:

. She's french, because I am. Speaks baguette.

. Her name means beautiful fragrance of peach blossoms. Very peach inspired in design too.

. Mika's animal is the Cheetah! 🐆

. Loves drawing, singing and baking in her free time. She hides all her hobbies so no one really knows for sure.

. She's a hopeless Bi with no game whatsoever. She's avoided attention and people all her life and now her stubborness is coming back to bite her in the ass.

. I haven't paired her up with anyone because I adore them all and it's fun to think about what the platonic or romantic dynamic would be for each of them.

. Has stolen an artifact. She just found out about all that neat stuff, how could she not? The artifact looks unnasuming enough, its just like a normal can of spray paint. However, it never runs out of paint and lets her have any color she wants- it's also extremely flammable. Fun!!

(let the honor student have something to defend herself with Darkwick like what the fuck)

. More to come! I LOVE other MCs, please show them to me and infodump about them!! Don't be scared to interact, it makes my day every time <3

[2busy4life]

So this text will be a write and direct post it text about me and self harming. It's a little bit strange that I don't have memories of my childhood until the age of 12, where I had my first suicidal crisis. But my first intentional cut was with my moms razor at the age of 8. I cut in my feet and I remember how my mom struggled to stop the bleeding. I think I forgot this until the age of 20. But I really started self harming with a bomb of depression at the age of 12. I had depressions, was suicidal and started to cut with razor blades. I was bullied at school since first grade and even changed school when I was 10 or 11. But the phrases of the bullys were still the same. And I would say after few years of being bullied, you have no choice of believing what they sayed to me daily. And if you change school and they tell you the same shit you start to see al the phrases as a fact. So I was 12 and half of my life I already spend in therapy. I only cut on the surface of the skin, but always my whole left arm was a mess. I ate lotions to poison myself and I told my assist group about it. Normally they never tell your parents about all the shit that you told them, but if you start to be a danger of yourself they are forced to tell your parents. I was cutting many times a day. Every school break, ever toilet break I straight went to the bathrooms and cut myself. It was an easy relief from all the pressure the bullys put on me. With the age of 15 it became better and I was able to reduce it to 3 times a year. I was busy with my hobby horses and I spend my whole free time on the stable to take care of all horses. I started to move inti my own first appartement at the age of 18, because my home was a little bit difficult. I wasn't grown up and I failed with my whole appartement. But it was still better than home. I started again to self harm on a daily routine with 19 years. I only made it 2 weeks to cut on the surface, then my first deep cut happened. I hit a small arteries and the blood was spreading around my whole appartement. I was more shocked about what happened than about the deep cut. It was the first time I went to hospital and got stitches. From this moment cutting deep was normal, going to hospital at night was normal, getting clamps or stitches was normal. And I went to a therapy ward for the first time. But they kicked me out after 2 weeks and put me on a different hospital on the closed ward, because cutting daily isn't good if you are on a therapy ward and even tell them about your suicidal thoughts isn't good if you don't wanna end up on closed ward against your will. Because the hospital saw me the first time and I was so young they left me out after few days. But I came back very quick, because the hospital don't like it if you are pin their emergency room every night. The following years I was inpatient 80-90% of the years. We tried a lot of crazy things. Like day care from Monday to Friday and closed ward from Friday evening to monday morning. Thay really tried, but my ill head didn't. So I tried a therapy in a hospital every year, but was always the "difficult case" and because of the BPD diagnose most wards didn't trusted in what I told them. I never lied or manipulated people. But they always thought I would do that. So I got kicked out of every therapy after few weeks, because they couldn't handle me, I didn't showed any progress and most times they didn't believed me in what I said. And the I found my therapist in my city 3 years ago and I like him most of the time. It's not like we work on my past the most time, we spend 90% of our time with things that only happened the last week. I'm honest. Before covid I made progress and learned a lot of selfreflection. We thought about me going to university again. Then covid fucked the planet and my anxiety became as bad as it never was before. My normal week is self harming/destruction, suicide attempts, panic attacks and dissociations. Hospital is just a casual thing.

[berryunho]

woah wtf how do credits work at your uni cause i only need 20 to graduate. the discrepancy between majors is REAL lmao my friend is in history and partying every weekend and im here crying over amino acids. pls.

that's so fun omg!! do you know any korean rn? i was thinking abt a neuro minor myself but i feel like having a minor in stats is more useful for our program :///

YES IT WORKED HAHAHA omg i am SO happy like ATEEZ IM COMING 😭😭 i would like to thank u for the idea and my sister for having her wedding on that date 😭

i can't imagine it being that hot late sept. do your buildings at least have AC? and was it a nice day today?? cause i swear i was freezing when i woke up and now it's 23/73... that sound so aesthetic!!! mb i'd acc get work done if i went there.......

i think we're doing all 3 but today was IR day and i swear the info just goes in one ear and out the other. like there's polling questions as my prof goes thru the lecture but the info hasn't sunken in yet to fully answer them and i'm like am i dumb or am i dumb???

you, me and 🍓 anon best pen pals indeed!! i can't believe we're all travelling that far the dedication is real 😭 i hope you have fun on your mini vacation <3

its hump day!! 2 more days to go we can do this :D

-mightychondria

UM ... wow i even googled it before posting that and google said canadian universities work the same as american ones w credits LKJFD:SLJFS but apparently not 😭

but so ummm so basically each class is assigned a credit number based on how many hours a week you're expected to devote to the class (outside of lecture) TIMES TWO so like my chem lecture is 4 credits so that means i should expect to spend 8 hours a week studying chem on my own ... if that makes sense 😭 its basically correlated to the workload of the course and anyhow you need 120 total credits to graduate,,, with a designated number of those credits being within your major FGDKSLJF:LDJS so everyone needs at least 120 to graduate but the amount of classes you have to take WITHIN your major definitely depends on your major ... like i said i have 74 credits in my major which is essentially like... 20ish classes that I MUST TAKE to graduate w my major but im free to use the other 46 credits however i want 😎 so if you do the math 120 credits/8 semesters = 15 credits a semester which is considered a "normal" workload (im taking 18 LKFJS:LDJF)

but anyways sorry that was long winded af LKFJ:LSJDK lol hopefully that makes sense?? how does your system work though im curious now !!?

LKJFS:DJFK:LSDJK as for me knowing korean ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm i never speak on this bc im terrified of embarrassing myself but this is how i broke it down to my prof LOL i can understand about 50% of what i hear and 75% of what i read w vocab being my only issue and ... i can get my point across in writing or speaking but im definitely not conversational LOL ANYWAYSHLKFSDLFJ if i go to korea ill (probably) be able to test out of the rest of the korean classes at my uni and get credit for them thus giving me enough credits for the minor without actually having to use any of my limited credits/time toward completing it KFKLDSJLKFJ

but 😭😭😭 yeah you're right stats is really reaaaallly useful in our area 😭 im being forced to take a bio statistics research class rn and like. wtf. BUT TBH you gotta do what you want to do. like not to be cheesy but really you gotta do things for yourself so if you want to do neuro you should do neuro !!!

BUT OMG YAAAAYYYY!!!!! im so glad it worked out omg that makes me sooooo happy KJFLSD:JFJKKL its gonna be so fun AAAAAAA

honestly the AC on my campus is so dodgy bc like... there are buildings from the mid 1800s that havent been touched once and there are buildings from last year and buildings all in between 😭😭 id say most of the buildings that i frequent definitely do thankfully !! but omg yes it was so nice today i woke up and it was 60/15 and i was in such a good mood all day LOL

no fr in chem whenever my prof asks the class something i just sit there in silence. like i never know whats going on in lecture until i read the textbook or attempt problems and essentially teach myself everything 😭 i wouldnt stress about it too much chem is hard !!

hehehe honestly the motivation of dedicated atinys like name something stronger KJSLDKFJSDL hehehe

wow this response got so long LKJFALKDFJ:AD anyways. you're so right! 2 more days! lets go!!!

[witcher-and-his-bard]

I'd love 8 and 19 for the cuddling prompts!! Bonus points if you could combine them 🥺👉👈💖

I'm sorry this is so so so late 😅 but I looove some sick fic, so this was a delight! also featuring adorable art by @spielzeugkaiser (see end of the fic) <3 thank you sooo much for doing this with me pls go send some love to Conny because they deserve it! I adore this piece ❤︎❤︎

To Have and To Hold || ao3 

It's not often lately that Geralt and Jaskier manage to find an available room at an inn, never mind one with two beds, but tonight they have been lucky. Well, Geralt has been lucky. In the three weeks it's been since they were last in town, Jaskier has managed to pick up a head cold and it's gotten bad enough that sleeping outside isn't really an option for them anymore - not at least in the cool autumn weather. So Geralt has done his best to find them a decent town with a decent room and Jaskier seems to be doing a little better already.

He's sitting by the fire in the common area, wrapped up in a blanket that the innkeeper's wife brought down for him especially. He looks small and sad and miserable and Geralt's chest aches at his helplessness. As a Witcher, Geralt doesn't get sick and it's been too long since he was truly human to even remember what it was like. He doesn't know what to do to help and he feels rather out of place trying to figure it out. But he starts with a room at an inn and he's ordered stew and rolls for supper.

While they're waiting for their food, Geralt heads up to their room, accidentally interrupting the chambermaid as she finishes filling the bath.

"The bath is ready for you," she says quietly, ducking her head as Geralt approaches, "is there anything else you need?"

Geralt opens his mouth to ask for… he doesn't know. What do people want when they're sick? What do they need?

"I- my friend is sick," he sighs, shoulders slumping, "I don't know how to help him. What do you do for someone who's sick?"

"Oh," the chambermaid says, surprised. "How sick is he?"

"He has a cold, it's not serious."

"Well, um, when my sister is ill, I make her soup and hot tea to drink. A little bit of honey helps if your friend has a sore throat."

"He has been complaining about not being able to sing," Geralt muses, "that might help."

"Then I would definitely recommend some tea and honey. I'll bring some up for you. And I'll see if I can't find a few extra blankets, they don't call it a cold for nothing." She smiles tentatively up at Geralt and he offers a forced grin in return.

"You don't need to worry about him," she says, "my name is Penelope and if you need anything at all feel free to come and find me. As for you," Penelope adds, rising to her feet, "just keep him warm and fed and I'm sure he'll be much happier after he's had a bath."

"I hope so," Geralt mumbles.

"I'm just downstairs if you need anything."

Penelope crosses to the door, closing it gently behind her and Geralt hums to himself. He appreciates Penelope's help, but he's still got to try and keep Jaskier warm and comfortable and so far he's been doing a shit job of it.

Geralt spends a short time organizing, piling the blankets from his own bed onto Jaskier's, and readying Jaskier's salts and oils for his bath. Geralt leaves them on a stool next to the tub and just as he's about to go back downstairs to collect Jaskier, Penelope comes back. Geralt holds the door for her and she smiles as she brings in a tray with a steaming mug and some honey.

"For your friend," she says, "and I found this-" she holds out a bed stone and Geralt takes it from her. It's warm to the touch and he frowns down at it. "Put it in his bed and it will keep him warm," Penelope explains. "I'll be right back with your supper."

"Thank you," Geralt says, looking up from the rock to offer her a genuine smile as she slips from the room once more.

Before he heads down after her, Geralt takes the stone to Jaskier's bed, tucking it under the covers and pulling them up to keep in the heat. He runs a hand over the top blanket before pulling himself away and heading down to the common area to collect Jaskier. He finds him still curled up in a chair by the fire, head tucked into the corner of his chair and Geralt can't help the soft smile that crosses his face, though he does his best not to acknowledge the accompanying tightness in his chest.

"Jask," he says gently, coming up behind, "supper's upstairs for you and there's a bath ready."

"Don't wanna," Jaskier mumbles, "so cold."

"Your stew and your bath will warm you. Come on."

Somewhat reluctantly, Jaskier tugs his blanket tighter around himself and slips off the chair. He stumbles a little and Geralt instinctively reaches out to him, catching him with one arm and steadying him. Jaskier offers up a weak smile and straightens up a little, but Geralt follows closely behind him as he crosses toward the stairs.

Jaskier stumbles again on the stairs and Geralt aches with his entire being to scoop him up and press him against his chest. He has never feared for Jaskier before despite his human frailty in comparison to a Witcher's lifestyle, but seeing him like this, Geralt is struck with the need to protect. And if that means bringing Jaskier against his chest and holding him until his breathing returns to normal and his chest loses that terrifying rattling sound, he'll do it.

Except he won't. He won't hold him and he won't tell him because Geralt is a coward.

So he just watches Jaskier climb the stairs, reaching out when he needs to be steadied and otherwise keeping his hands to himself. When they reach the room, Penelope is just leaving again and she offers a shy smile to Geralt as she slips past them in the hall. Geralt suspects she knows about the ache in his chest and the twitching of his muscles to hold and soothe. Why else would she offer such care?

Jaskier makes directly for the bath, but Geralt stops him before he can shed his blanket.

"Eat first," he says gently, pulling his hand back a little too quickly, "I'll warm the water for you if it cools. The chambermaid brought tea as well, she said it might help your throat."

Jaskier offers him another half smile and Geralt turns away, taking a deep breath as quietly as he can manage. He fiddles with his swords, cleaning and sharpening them while Jaskier eats because he needs to do something with his hands. By now, Jaskier must think he's paranoid about intruders because he does this so often when they're in town. But the truth is that when they're like this, just the two of them alone in a firelit room, Geralt struggles to keep his hands to himself. Now more than ever.

He's finished before Jaskier has eaten all his supper, so Geralt lines his potion bottles up and pulls out his herb satchel in preparation to mix up more. Out of the corner of his eyes, Geralt catches Jaskier rising to his feet and crossing back to the tub.

"Warm enough?" Geralt asks without raiding his eyes.

"Mmhm."

"Alright. Let me know if you need it warmed."

"Thank you, Geralt," Jaskier says quietly.

Geralt ducks his head again, focusing hard on his herbs instead of the fact that Jaskier is naked and sick a few feet away and so, so vulnerable. Geralt has never really worried too much about bandits - or anyone else, for that matter - sneaking into their room, but tonight he's on edge, twitching at every little sound.

When Jaskier finally gets out of the bath, he bundles himself up in his blanket again and shuffles over to his bed. Geralt is only half paying attention, careful to give Jaskier his privacy while also remaining on guard. But a little gasp catches him off guard and he turns to find Jaskier peering under the sheets of his bed.

"What is this?" Jaskier asks and Geralt shifts a little anxiously, looking over at the bed, all his distractions long since put away.

"A bed warming stone," he explains, "Penelope brought it up for you. To keep your bed warm. It's… important for you to keep warm."

"Penelope?" Jaskier asks.

"The chambermaid."

"Ah." Jaskier sounds a little disappointed, but when he climbs into bed, Geralt can hear the little contented sounds he makes while he gets comfortable.

Geralt rises up to his feet and crosses to the other side of the room, blowing out the candles one by one until the only light in the room is the still-crackling fire. Geralt pulls the screen across it and retreats to his own bed, shucking his trousers and shirt before climbing into the bed that suddenly seems far too large for one person on their own.

He's just used to sharing, he tells himself, but when he climbs under the covers, he knows it's more than that. He misses the warmth of another body against him, misses the way Jaskier shuffles too close when it's cold, sucking up all of Geralt's body heat. He even misses the idiot's cold toes against the backs of his legs. For the first time ever, Geralt wishes they didn't have the luxury of two beds.

But he's not about to go and climb into Jaskier's space, least of all when he's not well. He's so focused on his own thoughts he almost misses the tiny voice in the dark.

"Geralt?"

"Jaskier?"

"Could you- it's just I'm so- I fear this may be the end," he says and Geralt doesn't like the change in his voice, the forced humour in that last sentence. He knows Jaskier is not that sick, but the fake humour worries him.

"You'll be fine," Geralt responds, playing along as he normally would.

"I don't think so," Jaskier says, rolling over to face Geralt across the expanse of the room, "I may very well perish." He sounds more genuine this time, at least and the tight ball in Geralt's chest gives a little.

"I'd know if you were dying," he says simply, clinging on to this little bit of forced normalcy by his fingernails.

"You wouldn't," Jaskier says, "or you'd come over here right now."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because I need you," Jaskeir says and Geralt's heart stops beating for a moment. He's used to silence, has learned to settle his own body so that he can hear everything around him for miles. But the silence that follows those four words is nothing he's ever experienced.

"For what?" The silence that follows is somehow longer and heavier than before.

"Come cuddle me?"

"What?" Geralt asks before he can think better of it.

"I just- I sleep better with you here," Jaskier breathes, so quietly Geralt almost doesn't catch it. "I know we finally have two beds and it's more comfortable for you, but I'm- I'm cold and you're always so warm."

"Jaskier-" it's a warning, for Geralt more than anyone. That this is dangerous, that he shouldn't let himself get up right now, but he wants to. Too much.

"You'd never forgive yourself if I died when you could have easily stopped my suffering-"

"Jaskier, you're not dying."

"I might be."

Another long pause lingers between them and Geralt's heart pounds so heavily in his chest that he's sure Jaskier will hear it. He struggles with himself about the decision before he sighs and pushes the blankets back. He's already halfway across the room before he really realizes what he's doing, but Jaskier lifts the blankets up for him and Geralt slips in as Jaskier rolls away from him.

Geralt shudders as Jaskier's feet press to the front of his legs, somehow still frozen, but he settles remarkably quickly. A chill goes through him, but Geralt drapes an arm over Jaskier's middle, pulling him tighter against his chest and Jaskier lets out a soft contented sigh. This… despite Geralt's hesitation, his fears, feels right.

"Better?" he asks and Jaskier elbows him as he readjusts, mumbling a soft sorry.

"Yeah," Jaskier breathes, "you're warm."

"Mm."

"Thank you," Jaskier mumbles and Geralt can already hear his breath evening out, the steady pace of his heart. He's already falling asleep.

"For what?"

"For taking care of me. Know it wasn't Penelope."

"It was."

"'S not her now," Jaskier yawns, wiggling back against Geralt's chest. "G'night Geralt."

Geralt lets go of the tightly coiled control for a moment, pressing his nose into Jaskier's neck and pressing a soft kiss in his hair.

"Sleep well, Jaskier."

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

🕯Anon said: just wanna say I adore your writing and how you write Reiner and the kids and the other warriors is my favourite thing ever !! I just wanna give them all hugs :) do u have any hcs for the types of jobs you see them all doing in modernverse ?🕯

The types of jobs they have in modern au

{Annie, Bertolt, Colt, Marcel, Pieck, Porco, Reiner, Zeke, }

{Implied Reiner x reader}

{ "Porto" 1935 by Renato Natali 1883-1979 }

Annie is an Animal rescue worker.

Having had experience as a dog trainer before, it wasn't hard to find a full time job at her local shelter after graduating high school, having volunteered there before.

With time, effort and a lot of energy she made her way into the position of "animal control officer" now she spends her days busting animal's abusers doors and rescuing injured or neglected pets.

With long shifts and a high maintenance job, her time was all poured into her work. Usually she'd be exhausted after a long day.

Despite that, she's fulfilled and satisfied with her job. Not having to deal with a lot of people is a plus too, it's a hard job yes but she prefers it this way.

Her friends are bumped about not being able to see her a lot but they understand, plus she keeps in touch with them by lurking in the group chat only to send a snarky remark to stir the pot every now and then.

Bertolt sees her everyday because they work at the same animal shelter, even if their jobs are different they still walk home together, she also met some different people like Hitch and Marco at her job.

The kids love her job, they think it's badass, especially Gabi and Udo. Gabi because Annie gets to kick people in the face and Udo because he genuinely cares about animals.

She'd never tell anyone this, but part of the reason she wanted the job was because she felt guilty for her past self and wanted to fight for those who couldn't fight for themselves.

Bertolt is a veterinarian.

Having changed his mind post graduation and going to college instead of with Reiner, he graduated after 4 years of studying and is currently working with Annie at the local shelter while also planning to open his own clinic one day.

He takes some animals under his personal care for weeks or months even till they get adopted, he fears something bad will happen to the weak or ill ones if left at the shelter overnight.

Just like Annie, the job takes a lot of his time, not to mention caring for animals off of work. So he's in the same situation as her, but for the sake of his best friend he still finds time to visit and hang out once a week.

Reiner and him still text daily, it's mostly pictures Bertolt took of the animals, Annie on her break, interesting plants he finds along the way. And Reiner replies with pictures of the kids.

They still find time to play basketball together, they try to keep it a secret from Annie because she will kick their ass in it.

Bertolt is comfortable with his job, he feels like he belongs and likes being needed. Yes the long hours are a con but seeing the fruits of his labour grow and get better day by day makes it all worth it.

The kids like visiting his house because there usually will be a new dog or some animal in there every month or so, Reiner makes sure they don't bother the animals. 

Something he's never told anyone is a big part of the reason he changed his mind last minute was because Animals feel much safer and secure for him to work with than humans.

Colt is a college student working part time.

He's majoring in nursing, being a four years degree he's trying to balance his studies with work and taking care of Falco.

Zeke offered him to work full time after graduation at his clinic, since he's been working part time there for a while and the pay is good, plus it's really convenientnal.

He has worked different part time jobs in the past like a barista, flower shop assistant, tutor, kindergarten teacher, etc.

Between all his responsibilities he barely has time for himself, his courses end right before his work starts and the small bits in-between is spent on Falco and his friends. Zeke and Pieck try to take some of his responsibility but he refuses saying it's the least he could do to Falco.

He's really good at his job like multitasking, reading people, gaining their trust and having high stamina that he could stay for night shifts even.

He relies on coffee a lot.

Falco sees him as a real life superhero, they weren't that close before but after the incident he really started appreciating his big brother. 

Something he keeps inside is that despite pursuing this job because he genuinely wanted to make a difference in people's lives and help the sick, he also felt a crushing guilt after his parents passed away, and so he's trying to save other people's lives now instead.

Marcel is a pilot.

It's a dream he always had since middle school, soon after graduation he joined the military to gain enough flying hours and experience to apply to a commercial airline after taking some mathematics, aviation and some general flying courses.

He was officially hired as a pilot after getting his first class medical certificate to check his health.

His work isn't measured by hours to him but by days, he needs to be available 24/7 in case of an emergency call. Now he's working overseas and far away from his friends.

You've actually never met Marcel, only seen pictures of him and received letters. The person he keeps in touch with the most is Porco.

He likes his work, it's his dream. He doesn't like the work hours and being so absent from his friends and brother, he misses them so much at times.

Pieck is a tattoo artist.

Her shop is actually her old flower shop after she decided to change her career. She's always been good with plants and taking care of them, at that time Colt worked as her assistant. 

It wasn't till later after some years of practice and training under other artists that she was confident enough about her skills to start the project 

Her art is full of life, mesmerising and beautiful. She puts her soul in every piece and has gained a good reputation because of it, plus having really high ratings and strict hygiene rules, no health inspector could ever challenge her.

Having her own independent work meant that she has a very flexible schedule, being mostly free ment she could pursue other hobbies like gardening.

A peaceful and simple life where she can indulge in her art and be happy is all she ever wanted

Porco is a frequent customer of hers that gets a family discount, Zeke came once before and later sent his friend, a really tall and blonde woman who became her most frequent customer.

Zofia thinks her work is really cool and wants to go and just watch her do her thing, but it's frowned upon to have a kid just sitting at a tattoo shop.

Despite changing into this career, the town people still think of her as the sweet flower shop lady.

Porco is a bartender.

That job came to him by accident more than anything, he was working part time as a bouncer in a local bar but a slot was open after the old bartender suddenly quit and he gave it a chance.

He didn't expect to love it so much, neither did he know about his hidden talent in mixing drinks. So he took it as full time and changed to better bars after gaining the experience he needed.

Being naturally charismatic and good at influencing people, while also multitasking in making drinks and keeping a conversation going, he was instantly a hit in whatever place he worked at.

Working the night shift ment he's mostly free in the morning, he tries to help Pieck with her gardening and is actually attempting to grow some plants at his house.

Naturally whenever there's a gathering, he's the one mixing drinks and being the self assigned bartender who openly judges his friends for their choice in drinks. The charismatic persona being thrown out the window and replaced by a no mouth filter.

He genuinely cares tho, he's the one taking care of someone when they drink more they can handle. It's mostly Colt who underestimates his drinks and is left clinging to Porco who drives him home.

Because of his line of work, tattoos and general brash personality, the kids' parents don't like him even one bit. They're suspicious of him no matter how many times Reiner assures them he's trustworthy.

It's actually only Colt who trusts Falco with him, and maybe Zofia's mom who is at the bar every weekend. 

Reiner is a firefighter.

With his mother pushing him into this line of work, he applied for the physical and psychological exams after graduation before getting accepted. He wasn't unprepared per say but actually being in that line of work was more than he could ever prepare for.

It instantly took a great hit at his mental health, so much in fact that he was thankful Bertolt changed his mind last minute and didn't follow him in this job.

It was both everything he ever wanted, like saving people, helping children, animals and knowing it's him who saved them even if it means putting his own life at risk.

But also everything he hated, like the hunting faces and screams of the people who were far too gone for him to save, the recurring nightmares and constant guilt paired with imposter syndrome.

He works a 24/72 shift, meaning he works for a whole day before getting 3 days off. Approximately only working 7-8 days a month, not to mention unpaid leave, sick days and holidays.

So it both gave him a really tight schedule on some days and on others more free time than he knows what to do with, that's why he naturally took the main role of being the kid's caretaker. Looking after his little cousins genuinely helped him and he liked playing the big brother role.

Especially to Gabi, he was the only stable adult in her life. It's common knowledge that you call Reiner first for anything concerning her before her parents because he's more likely to answer and be available.

After meeting you, his life improved to the better as you moved in and became a trustworthy person in his life, someone he can depend on to take care of his little cousins on the days he works.

Not to mention that after you persuaded him to see a therapist, his mental health began improving too.

Gabi may or may have not committed arson at one point, she still wants to be a firefighter despite that and follow in Reiner's footsteps.

He hasn't told anyone beside you this, but he really fears for her, but doesn't have the heart to tell her no.

Zeke is a doctor.

Previously he worked in a hospital but was able to open his own clinic afterwards, Colt was a great help to him at that time when he was getting on his own feet and even worked a lot of unpaid hours.

After that he insisted Colt works an official part time job there with a much higher pay, till he graduates at least. Plus the experience will greatly improve his resume.

Zeke is brilliant at his job, he'd be a perfect doctor wasn't it for the fact he's a huge hypocrite who doesn't follow the advice he gives his patients. 

He does a side job in his free time that honestly no one of his friends know what it is, but they know it gained him a lot of connections and made new friends.

Something he always keeps buried inside was that he really never expected himself to become a doctor especially after what his dad did to his mother, and yet here he is. In some way it's like his own personal stepping stone to prove he's a better man than his father ever was.

Bonus:

Falco: middle schooler

He does volunteer work on the weekends, sometimes Udo joins him.

Doesn't want Gabi becoming a firefighter.

Likes all videogames , just all types.

Likes watching cartoons and medical shows with Colt who covers Falco eyes whenever an adult scene is on

His favourite food is chicken nuggets

Wants to try coffee

Is good at PE

Reads comic books

Likes yellow and blue

Gabi: middle schooler

Takes self defence classes and really wants to go to summer camp

Wants to be like Reiner, aspires to be as strong too.

Likes shooter videogames or really hard ones.

Likes watching Anime and cartoons

Her favourite food is Pizza

Wants to try energy drinks

Is also really good at PE and surprisingly good at puzzles.

Likes red and pink 

Udo: middle schooler

Takes music classes at the weekend, wants to go to science camp

Kinda wants to be like Reiner or an astronaut.

Likes calming videogames

Likes watching anime and Minecraft let's play

His favourite food is mac and cheese 

His favourite drink is strawberry milk

Is good at language classes and creative writing, he also just likes animals a lot.

Likes green and black

Zofia: middle schooler (could've been in a special program)

Takes music classes with Udo

Wants to be a lawyer

Likes co-op Videogames 

Likes watching true crime and youtubers drama

Her favourite food is Donuts

She likes strawberry milk and ice tea 

Is good at all classes

Likes white and purple

[lordbib]

Hi lord, are you still accepting asks? If so, 7,22,25,30. Have a great day!

7. 3 fruits that you love the most

1. mango!! its my grandpas favorite and whenever i go to my grandparents house he still cuts it up for me. My favorite is mangga gedong which is more colourful and is the best manggo in general

2. Durian!! its good and its not stinky i love it. i also used to eat this with my grandpa on ramadan after we break the fast.

3. Longan! they're nice and sweet and i can eat a lot of them like rlly fast. i can finish a pack of them in an hour or less hdjsgf.

honorable mention (im too indesicive leave me alone): raspberries! best berry fight me

22. 3 movies/books/tv shows that made you cry

ok but disclaimer EVERYTHING makes me cry

1. Inside out. Bing Bong. Traumatic.

2. Banana Fish. Self explanatory i was sobbing by the second episode holy shit it was bad. 9th episode i had to take 2 days not continuing out of sadness.

3. A Silent Voice. this hit me HARD i was sobbing baddd. Just how symbolic and how it explains the two povs of bully and bullied is just amazing. Go watch it.

25. 3 people you’d never get tired of

i cant choose so this will be like 20 dif ppl

1. My cousins Adri, Nay, and Jin. (tbh especially Jin) jhsdf. We've been really close since we were babiess. Me and Jin are 6 months apart in age and went to school together for like 10 years so yaa we basically saw each other everyday. Adri and i are further apart in age so i dont share my secrets as much with her then i do with Nay and Jin. Nay and i are reallyy close but not as close as me and Jin. Also Nay is currently in boarding school so sadly i only talk to her every two weeks or so.

2. Irls! my friends from my old school who ive known for 8+ years, and also friends from my current school!! Me and the girls from my old school still talk everyday and vc sometimess we have weekly zoom game times. Also my closest friend Sha who isnt answering my dm rn smh (thats a joke shes in school hihi) she is the one who got me into kpop (suprise i like kpop i might post more abt it later on)

3. proceeds to tag all of the levihan server naur but i genuinely never get tired of them hdjfg. let me attempt this hollup. @gremlinelrics @immagoudaboi @callantry @solborealis @mello-jello my lovely parents <3 love u all. also @glassesandswords and @renrampant are technically also my parents but Rens also my sister. dont question it our family tree is a tumbleweed. @snudootchaikovsky my dear grandma <3 @thexanwillshine my dear mother <3 holy shit how will i do this @malunggaybe @lilnazx @mashedpotatoforhanjo @thehyscriptures my dear siblings <3 and also all of these ppl:

@chili-aux @oyzoe @bluesylveon2 @cherryhatesmaths @djmarinizelablog @clickerisha @agoldenheartedsnkfan @free-pancakes @fanmoose12 and so many others i absolutely love with my heart but im way too scared to tag them omg scer sorry for the tag love u all sm <3 i would never get tired of all of u the server is very dear to my heart and i love u all <33

30. 3 moments you could never forget

(ill leave the trauma out of this hsdhs)

1. moving from my school of 10 years and also my friends of 10 years (during a goddamned pandemic too) but it was genuinely a sad and memorable moment a lot of experiences at that school and with those people are also very memorable

2. eids at my grandparents with my family eating, talking, playing. The last 2 eids we havent been able to do that because of the pandemic so i miss it a lott.

3. holidays with my mom! Theyre always really fun

[bubblefina]

King of Hearts chapter 8

Masterlist

Summary: Reader and Tom meet during their years at Hogwarts, but as the years pass a rivalry grows between the two of them, which leads from soft beginnings to tragic endings.

 “Don’t even try apologizing. No one in Slytherin will even look at me because they think that I ventured outside the common room after curfew just to get into trouble. The prefect always asks me where I've been if I'm the slightest bit late in returning to the dorm. I also have a list of punishments to complete as a result of this. Just leave me alone, don’t try to talk to me again.”

Pairings: Tom x f!reader

Warnings: Slight flashbacks of bullying

•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧.˚ *•̩̩͙ ✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧.˚ *•̩̩͙ ✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧.˚ *•̩̩͙ ✩

Chapter 8- Back home

“Sir?” you clear your throat and drink some tea to clear away the rest of the cookie crumbs in your mouth. 

Should you pass his accusation off as false? Please, he was Dumbledore, he probably has eyes everywhere.

“It’s alright, no need to get nervous. I won’t have you get in trouble for this, but I need to ask you something. Did Tom make you go to the Astronomy tower with him, by force?” Dumbledore rested his chin on both of his hands, looking inquisitively at you.

“Force? Oh, no sir, it’s quite the opposite. I made Riddle go with me.”

“You made Tom go with you? For what exactly?” Dumbledore seemed surprised with your answer. He didn’t take you for the person who could make Tom Riddle follow you around willingly, or so he thought.

“It’s a really weird story, professor. A few weeks ago I found this thing in the sky, it looked like a cluster in the shape of a heart. I found a book in the library that told me it was a heart shaped nebula, but in the explanation there was a type of prophecy. The explanation was ripped out of the book, so I’ve just been dragging Riddle along with me since he saw it, too.”

“What does this prophecy entail?”

“From what I remember, it says that only two people can see it at a time, and only those two people can. There was a theory that if those two saw the nebula together that something would happen, but that portion was unfortunately ripped off of the page.”

Dumbledore took a second to think about what you had just told him, “Are you sure that this prophecy was in a book, from the library?”

“Positive, sir.”

“I, for one, have never heard of a prophecy like this, so unfortunately I cannot assist you with any questions you have, but do you mind, I’d like to ask you a few?”

“Of course, sir, anything.”

Dumbledore got up from his seat and paced around the classroom for a moment, thinking.

“What is your opinion of him, Tom?” he asked.

“Uh, well, I don’t have that much of an opinion of him sir. I wouldn’t say that we’re that close, we’ve only ever talked during class and this was one of the times I was able to talk to him in private, he seems okay.”

“Did he share anything with you? Anything private?”

“He did tell me that he’s an orphan, and his mother died right after giving birth to him, that’s all.”

Dumbledore let out a small hum and walked towards you.

“Did it seem like he was lying to you?”

The question had you puzzled.

“Why would he lie to me about that, sir? He seemed rather emotional when talking about it, so I don’t think he was making it up, he’d have nothing to gain from it.”

“I see. It seems you put a lot of trust in him if you believe him in his story.”

Trust? Trust. You had a small flashback to the first time you met him, how he saved you from that snake, or how he didn’t tell anyone about how you were trying to blackmail him into coming with you late at night. In a way you did trust him, if he had any ill intent towards you, he would have surely shown it by now.

“I guess I do trust him, sir.”

“Very well then. I apologize for taking up your time with all of these questions, miss l/n. You are free to leave, and I will keep an eye out for anything relating to that nebula of yours.”

“Thank you, professor, happy holidays.”

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Back in your dorm room, you were working on a way to wrap the ring as a present for Tom. Transfiguring some parchment into wrapping paper, and another sheet to transfigure into a small box.

After putting the present together, you looked at it. It was a small box covered in green wrapping paper with a red ribbon on top.

“It should be enough to make amends, right?” you asked yourself.

Now that the present was prepared, all you had to do tomorrow was find Tom and hand it to him. Sounds easy right? No. He was avoiding you like you had the dragon pox. Both of you had charms and potions tomorrow, so if you were able to corner him right after one of the classes ended, you could give him the present. Setting the present down, you went down to the Great Hall for dinner.

The next day in charms, the professor, Elms, was adamant about students paying attention to the lecture, no side talk or whispering would be allowed. You tried getting Tom's attention by staring at him, hoping he’d make eye contact, but his eyes were on the professor the whole time. 

Potions wasn’t any better, Slughorn divided the students into groups for a mind fogging potion. You were unfortunately placed with Lucy’s brother and one of his friends. Let’s just say you didn’t have enough space to think about what the instructions were entailing, let alone talk to Tom, who was a few tables away from you. Lucy was right, her brother was a real pain and almost ruined the potion by boiling the solution for too long, alongside his friend, your table was the loudest in the classroom, resulting in multiple states from the other students.

Tom had rushed out of the classroom after potions ended, making you stumble with packing up your books and running after him. For a first year, it was like he could apparate across the halls, which was impossible of course, but he moved so quickly.

After following him for some time, you were near the Slytherin common room. Tom was stopped by someone who looked like he was a prefect of Slytherin.

You couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it looked like Tom wasn’t pleased with the conversation.

After the prefect left, you snuck up behind Tom and tapped on his shoulder. His already vacant expression turned into a displeased one when he saw it was you who was touching him.

“What do you want?” he demanded.

“Long time no see first of all,” you reached into your bag and took out the box containing the ring, “I just wanted to say thank you for accompanying me to the tower, and I’m sorry for blackmailing you into coming with me. Merry Christmas.” you extended your arm and tried to offer the box, but he stared at it with his eyes narrowed.

“What made you think I’d accept anything from you?” He took one final look at you and turned to walk to the common room, but you grabbed his arm.

“Did I do something to offend you? We were perfectly fine that night at the tower, and then you just left, and now you won’t even talk to me, let alone look at me. If there was something I did, I’m sorry-”

“Save your apology for someone that cares to hear it, l/n.” he shook your grip on his arm off and began retreating towards the common room again, but despite his efforts, you grabbed hold of him again.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong, why have you been avoiding me?”

“You haven’t figured it out yet? You really are daft. That night after I left the tower, I was caught by a Gryffindor prefect right as I was heading down the stairs. He took me to the headmaster's office where I was practically interrogated for hours. After I was let go, I’ve been under surveillance ever since, they watch my every move. Over 150 house points were taken from Slytherin, all because you wanted to go see something in the sky.” He shook off your grip once more and turned to tower over you.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t even try apologizing. No one in Slytherin will even look at me because they think that I ventured outside the common room after curfew just to get into trouble. The prefect always asks me where I've been if I'm the slightest bit late in returning to the dorm. I also have a list of punishments to complete as a result of this. Just leave me alone, don’t try to talk to me again.” With that said, he stormed off into the common room, leaving you and the tiny box outside. A few students walked by and saw your pained expression, but continued to walk without questioning why.

You left the dungeons in defeat, not wanting to stay there for too long. You kept walking until you found an empty cloister hallway. The guilt of what had happened to Tom was eating itself up inside you. It had been raining for some time, the air was cold, and it made you that much more miserable.

After standing in the hall for some time, you heard footsteps approaching.

Looking to see who it was, you noticed it was one of the boys that Tom hands out with. Lestrange was it?

Seeing an opportunity to make things right, you walk up to him and stop him in his tracks.

“May I help you?” he asks.

You shove the box that held the ring into his hands, “Listen, I know you may not like him right now, but I need you to give this box to Tom Riddle. I’m going to try and fix this mess, it was all my fault. Just make sure to give it to him, okay? Put it on his bed or something, thank you!” you rush past him, leaving him dumbfounded and alone with the present.

You head to headmaster Dippets office, where he openly welcomes you.

“Is something the matter, miss l/n?” he asks.

“Yes headmaster. I need to tell you something.”

“Don’t let me stop you, what seems to be the matter?”

“The whole Tom Riddle punishment situation. I just wanted to let you know that it was all my fault. I’m the one that made him come to the tower with me, I blackmailed him, so he had no choice but to accompany me. He’s innocent and shouldn’t be punished for something that I started. Please, take away his punishment and give it to me, it’s not right for him to be treated this way.”

Headmaster Dippet looked at you with a blank stare, processing what you had just told him.

“It was you that made him come with you to the tower?” he asks.

“Yes sir, it's all my fault.”

“Why did you make him come with you to the tower?”

You told Dippet the same exact thing you told Dumbledore. The prophecy, the nebula, how part of the pages were ripped off and that was what started your train of investigation. Blackmailing him was a thing you were reluctant to explain, but you did it anyway, but didn’t give the specifics of what you were blackmailing him about.

After a long conversation, Dippet finally agreed to free Tom of his punishments and hand some of them over to you, but not all of them. Since you were the true instigator, you had your own special punishments awaiting you. It was decided that Slytherin house points would be given back, and the misconception of Tom losing them would be cleared up. Dippet was kind enough to not take away any house points from Ravenclaw, seeing how your house was already in last place, and it would be useless to remove house points from a house that was already far behind.

One of your punishments included cleaning up the potions classroom for the next month after you return from holiday break, along with polishing all the quidditch brooms for the next two months.

One of your final punishments was one you had to complete immediately after you returned from break.

What was that punishment, you ask?

Collecting the web of an Acromantula, which was located in the forbidden forest.

You walked yourself back to your dorm, tired after talking to Dippet for so long. The train that would take you home would be arriving soon, so you packed your clothes and got ready to head to Hogsmeade station to board the train.

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Your dad had picked you up from Kings Cross Station with open arms. On your way back to your home, he asked you all the things that happened during your first semester at Hogwarts. Of course, you indulged in telling him the good things, but left out stuff like sneaking out of the dorms late at night and possibly hitting students with your textbook on accident.

Your younger brother greeted you at the door when you entered, giving you a big hug, despite the fact you had snow all over your coat. He didn’t know that you were going to Hogwarts, or that you had magic powers, so your parents decided not to tell him that. Your brother just thought you had been sent to a boarding school.

Your mom was setting the table for dinner when you saw her, she welcomed you home and told you to tidy up in your room. She didn’t come anywhere near you when you tried to approach her, saying that she was rushing to prepare supper and would hug you later.

You laid in your bed after many months and stared at the ceiling. Both of your parents were talking to each other, and your brother had friends to hang out with. It looked as if you were going to be alone for the remainder of Christmas break.

It had become a routine of yours to stay in your room for the majority of the day and only come out when it was time to eat. Getting tired of the same day every day, you decided to take a walk one afternoon while it was lightly snowing outside.

While walking outside, you remember why you were so eager to leave the neighborhood in the first place. Things hadn’t changed at all.

Any person that was coming towards you had crossed the street to walk alongside the opposite sidewalk. It didn’t matter if you went away for a few months, rumors and fear will always live as long as the person does, if not longer.

Trying your best to ignore the residents of your neighborhood, you walked into a local playground that you used to play in as a child. It looked the same, nothing had changed, other than the fact it was covered in snow.

This was one of the places that didn’t make you upset, it was full of happy memories.

Pushing the snow off of the swing set, you set down and began to slightly rock back and forth, kicking any snow that came in contact with your feet, it felt nice to finally get out of your room.

Despite some rough bits, you missed Hogwarts, that was your true home. The people there felt like your true family, no one could be judged, there were people who cared about you, and it made you more happy than the neighborhood you grew up in ever will.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear the shuffling of snow behind you, alerting that someone was beside you.

“Oh, look, the freak came back for the holidays.”

The voice, you hated that voice.

Stepping away from the swing, you turned and saw a disgustingly smug face. It was the face of Grace Melipold, your most notorious school bully. She stood there, haughty, with her posse standing behind her.

Her perfect ash blond hair was tied into two braided pigtails, which she played with the ends in between her fingers.

“I heard that you were shipped off to a boarding school for misbehaving kids, I didn’t think they’d let naughty girls like you enjoy Christmas break.” 

So is that the story everyone heard? That you were shipped off to a boarding school? Couldn’t your parents come up with something a little more original, like you were going to stay with some relatives in America or something.

“Wherever I go is none of your business, Grace. Were you patiently waiting at your doorstep for me to return? Seems like your obsession is clouding your judgement, I’m no longer scared of you, so piss off.”

Grace, oh lovely perfect Grace. She made your life a living hell in school. Even before the rumors of strange things happening around you started, she was still ruthless with her torment.

There was one memory in particular that always rolled around in your mind.

Grace, along with two other girls, had cornered you in an alleyway after school one day. Their torture went as far as to ripping parts of your school uniform and cutting out chunks of your hair. The event left you emotionally and physically bruised.

When you got home, your mother seemed more concerned with the fact that your uniform was torn than looking at your bruised skin and red eyes.

“Did you say something to her? She must have had a reason to do this, why didn’t you fight back?” your mother fumed.

“Fight back? Where do you think I got these bruises from, it was one against three, an obvious loss! I tried my best, but apparently my best isn’t good enough for you.” without looking back, you stormed up to your room and locked the door, ripping off whatever pieces of your uniform were left and hid yourself in your blanket.

It felt as if everyone was against you. Even the teachers wouldn’t help you if you went to them for assistance, Grace’s father probably had the staff wrapped around his fingertips with the amount of money he was putting into the school.

Sometimes you wonder who started the rumors about you, about strange things happening around you, never have you shown your magic out in public. What could someone possibly gain from seeing you suffer?

“Oho, shipped off to boarding school for a few months and returned with a big mouth, how unfortunate, seems like we’ll have to teach you a lesson, again,” Grace walked towards you with pure malice and grabbed you by the coats of your collar, “Need I remind you, y/n? You’ll always be under me, so don’t even think about talking back.” She pushed you into a pile of snow that was behind you, laughter erupted from her group of friends and her.

You climbed out of the snow pile and walked toward Grace, grabbing her by her shiny little pigtails, “This is for everything you did to me at school,” taking your foot, you hit her in the knee as hard as you could, “This is for what you did to me in that alley way,” another kick to her other knee, “And this is for thinking I’m going to tolerate your shit for the rest of my life.” pulling her close by her pigtails, you positioned your foot at her abdomen and pushed her away as hard as you could. She fell into a deep pile of snow. Taking this opportunity, you chucked as many deformed snowballs as you could at her, the adrenaline rushing through your veins as the impulsiveness started to wash away, making you stop after a few throws.

“Don’t you ever come near me again, Grace. Next time you threaten me, I will not indulge you in a conversation.” you wiped the snow that sat on your face and walked home, leaving Grace and her posse alone at the playground.

Walking back to your house was an understatement, you ran, ran until your feet felt like they were burning. For the first time, you stood up for yourself against one of the people that made you feel so horrible. It felt like freedom had sprouted wings behind your back, making you fly.

After entering your house, you immediately joined your family at the dinner table, gleefully eating the food that was in front of you.

Despite your family's efforts to ask what had gotten you in a good mood, you refused to tell them, some secrets deserved to be kept secret.

[meichenxi]

Obsession, ‘productivity’ and habits vs routines: starting learning in a healthier way

cw: perfectionism, obsessiveness, allusion to eating disorders, depression, anxiety (very non-explicit) I’m going to be writing a series of posts from some asks I’ve had waiting for me, on how to build a cohesive language learning routine, but I wanted to preface that first with something we talk about less than we should in the language learning community: obsessiveness, perfectionism, recovery from mental health, and how to approach language learning in a better way. If the personal stuff bores you, feel free to skip the first two paragraphs. 

I have been trying to ‘be more productive’ - in healthy ways, and unhealthy ways - since I was about ten. If you don’t fit in, for whatever reason, hobbies - and especially creative or ‘productive’ ones - are a wonderful escape. They make you feel that it’s ok not to have friends; they let you look down on all those other stupid children with all the misplaced arrogance of every single bored, clever pre-teen. When I was twelve, I realised there was no point eating with people that didn’t like me and went to the library instead, because that was ‘dead time’. When I was fourteen, I realised getting the bus was ‘dead time’, and started doing Anki for two hours a day. When I was sixteen, I realised walking was ‘dead time’, and started either listening to podcasts or talking out loud. By the time I was eighteen, I was doing four A-levels in school, an EPQ, teaching myself an extra Latin GCSE, and taught myself the Spanish A-level in 3 months right before the exam. I also worked out for two hours a day - because eating lunch was ‘dead time’, and sleeping was ‘dead time’ - trained martial arts four evenings a week, tutored twice a week, had a part-time job as a waitress, played the flute in a prestigious orchestra, and was 150,000 words deep in the first draft of a very gay, Norse-mythology inspired fantasy novel. 

I had it all under control. My marks were excellent; I was a well-rounded person, musical and sporty and already decently on the way to becoming a polyglot, I was training to be a teacher, and I had plans to publish my novel. My home life was painful, but I was painfully independent with what I now like to call the ‘Elsa complex’. Or, actually, like Zuko: I could look after myself, by myself. It was all under control. 

I guess everyone can see where this is going. School ended, and with it came endless, open days. I fell apart. 

With endless surprise, I can now say that, four years later, I think I’ve come through the worst of it. I still have tendencies to get obsessive, but my anxiety and perfectionism are a lot better, I don’t dissociate, and I have - gasp! shock! - actual interest in life again. I never wrote that novel, but I’m still gay and still love Norse mythology, so I’m slowly finding my way towards writing again. What people don’t tell you about getting better, though, is that trying to define yourself, trying to find yourself, as a person who exists without mental illness, is very, very hard. Many of the things that you used to identify as core components of your personality or important values may have changed, and you may be hesitant about trying to take up hobbies that you used to enjoy because you recognise - and rightly so - that the incessant drive to be doing something, all the time, didn’t necessarily come from anywhere healthy. That those things which you clung to and which protected you may actually have ended up harming you in the end. A lot of figuring out old patterns of unhelpful thoughts involves realising that the things that you defended or framed as helping - weren’t. That’s a hard thought, especially because those mechanisms developed to try and protect you, one that’s immeasurably sad. 

Seperating your reasons for doing something obsessively and your love of it in the first place, before it became unhealthy, is difficult. And it means that when you feel - finally, finally - ready to start tackling something like language learning again, you end up sorting of approaching it sideways, shiftily, as if you’re hoping to trick yourself into it. It’s a delicate thing, like a baby bird, and it’s dangerous too, because if you do everything which you did before - the only thing you know how to do - it’s not going to work. And every time it fails is personal, because being able to do it again represents getting better, and reclaiming parts of your identity mental illness stole, and it hurts.

I’m writing this post because somebody asked me about my approach to creating a successful language learning routine. And I do have a lot of thoughts - but I wanted to preface that post with this one, to say:

If you are reading this to be more productive, if it is becoming obsessive, if you want to fit the most possible language learning into the tightest schedule possible, STOP. Take care of yourself. These tips for ‘productivity’ are for people who want to learn a little bit more about organising their time, and are in the right space to add more learning to their life. If you are only defined by what many hours you get done a day, if that’s what motivates you, these tips are not for you. Look after yourself. 

And on that note, here’s a confession: I don’t have - have never had - a successful language learning routine. Because of what happened, the only way I can keep going and prevent myself from falling into bad habits is if I approach it sideways, if I pretend I’m not taking it seriously, because I know if I don’t things will go wrong. But I want to be honest and upfront because I know a lot of people read my posts for advice and say that this doesn’t work for me. It might not work for you either. I especially know there are a lot of conceptions of successful langblrs with 7, 8, 9 etc languages in the title - that that we spend 5 hours a day on Anki, fall asleep to Glossika, and so on. And it’s especially important to mention now, because I feel like my language learning habits have only started being healthy in the last year or so - essentially since I started actually enjoying Chinese media. I could teach you how to cram every spare second with language learning, or how to successfully pass an A-level in 3 months with no teachers. I was good (and arrogant, and cocky, and needed bringing down a peg or two). But I won’t.

What I do have are succesful language learning habits. Apart from being a generally more flexible appraoch for all learners, the advantage of building successful habits over a fixed routine is that it allows for learning according to different in energy levels, how busy you are, what you find difficult and what else is going on in your life. Most crucially for me is that it is always a much healthier approach, because what I do is not based on number of hours, or number of units a week, or anything quantifiable that allows me to get obsessive again or frustrated that I’m not doing enough. 

Routine is important, especially when it comes to routinising daily tasks. The only thing I have is that sometimes - on good weeks, and once or twice even shockingly on good months - I have a decent Anki streak going. That’s it. I don’t listen every day - I don’t read every day - I certainly don’t do grammar every day. There’s nothing specific I do every day, though I usually rack up a good few hours of immersion or study - to be honest, I fail at Anki probably at least 60% of the time. Everything else - all these tips I have written about - I do as and when. Framing it in such vague terms makes it sound like I must have an extraordinary amount of motivation to keep going, that maybe I’m just lucky to be interested etc, but that’s really not the case. What I have done to keep learning regularly and somewhat successfully (I hope!!) without limiting myself to a routine which I know I will starting obsessing over is tying specific language learning behaviour to certain moods or levels of concentration. 

All routine is just habit. Habit, with a ribbon and packaged nicely. But allowing yourself to adapt your learning to the circumstances gives you more flexibility than any strict routine, and is more sustainable in the long term. What building habits rather than a specific routine does is allow you to learn what works best when, what works when you’re tired, and what is best to do when you have energy, or when you want to watch a show, or talk to people. It puts you at the centre of your language learning, rather than framing language learning as a central part of you. 

So how can we build healthy habits? How can we utilise ‘dead time’ whilst keeping it light, and fun? How can we adapt our language learning for times when we are tired, and stressed? Or what about when we don’t have time to give 100% of our attention or concentration? How can we identify our own strengths, our own weaknesses, and unite these with our personal goals to figure out what to prioritise in active studying, and what to do when we don’t have the energy for that? 

I’ll give my thoughts on all of these over the next couple of weeks, in what I hope will be a comprehensive overview of how best to practice, addressing everything from how to practice speaking to how to start as a complete beginner. If you have any thoughts or interim questions, or if you’d like to add your own experience to anything I have said, please feel free to!

In the mean time - 

chenxi out.