#i procrastinated so hard this week this is my fault

[literallythegrabber]

Yo , can you do the famous reader one but with characters ¿? Sorry if I was not clear :p

my bad, it's not ur fault I was being dumb. I'm also writing this at 3:00 am, after procrastinating for a week, so sorry for any typos in advance. enjoy!

Finney

Will probably keep his distance from u.

Will admire u from afar, kinda like how he was with Donna, just a bit more extreme since ur famous.

This boy will just stare at you from across the room. No shame whatsoever. Can't hold eye contact for shit tho, and easily flustered.

Since ur famous, I'd imagine you'd be like a child act or actress, so Finney would go to the movie theatre every Friday with Robin or Gwen to see ur movies.

(just remembered how Robin is 6 feet under rn, I'm imagining Finney carrying a pile of bones in a bucket labeled "Robin" to the movies, LMAO, anyways...)

Since he's short on cash (I headcanon he's broke af, I mean he's 13) he'll hideout in the bathroom once ur movies over, then wait for the next audience to come and watch it, then sneak into that booth so he can watch it again. Like, mf u could just go home? But he's committed to u.

When yall got together, the whole school was SHOOK, the people were pondering over yall for days.

You'd have to reassure him a lot. He gets insecure a lot by ur status and what people say.

But Robin will beat the haters up!😁

Robin

will def beat up all ur haters, whether yall are dating or not.

He'll try to act non-chalant and tough around you when he's literally freaking out the moment u walk into the room.

Imagine him just locking eyes with u while he's beating up some kid, just holding eye contact mid punch cause he thinks it makes him look cool.

And ur just like "😐".

Like I said with Finney, he'll go to the movie theatre EVERYDAY to watch ur movies instead of studying.

He just ignores doing it cause homework's for losers.

Like aren't u failing math?

U get scary dog privileges once yall start dating. He's always staring people down when they look at you for too long, he's super protective.

Yall would def be a power couple.

Bruce

He fangirls over u.

Thats it, that's all I have to say.

He ain't a stalker, but is 100% ur biggest fan.

Will flirt with u, get u small gifts, and invite u to his baseball games.

Will definitely serenade u with a guitar in the middle of the hallway, then laugh when u get embarrassed.

He brags to his friends about u all the time.

Nobody's surprised when yall start dating.

The popular boy and the movie star, it was a match made in heaven.

Like with Robin, yall would be a power couple.

Vance

He's literally ur biggest hater, polar opposite of Bruce.

He doesn't really hate u, he's just trying to deny his feelings for u by becoming ur mortal enemy.

He's trying to convince himself he doesn't like you, even tho he thinks about u (and pinball) all day.

Teases u, calls u names, goes out of his way to ruin ur day, he's honestly a menace.

"Vance! Did you see y/n's new movie? It's so cool!" "She looks like a seahorse be fr." "😟"

Vance is just insecure, with his dirty reputation, it's hard for him to believe someone like you would want someone like him.

He's unsure of how to process his emotions correctly, so he just bottles them up. Then imagine yall get into an argument, then all his pent-up feelings come pouring out in an aggressive confession, then yall get together.

The world was SHOOK, again.

Nobody could connect the dots, the goofy "bad boy" dating the movie star? Nobody predicted it.

He keeps his affection under the radar, wouldn't want to ruin his reputation.

He claims ur turning him into a "softie", but he's totally whipped for u.

Scary dog privileges, too.

[what-have-i-unleashed]

a happy life

1500 words of fic i wrote in one sitting because i'm feeling silly (and i'm procrastinating on my wips damn). about something new chara and killer. inspired by that scene in csm iykyk :3

(warning: angst, non-graphic violence, minor character death, abusive relationship)

for @howlsofbloodhounds because you've been on a roll with chara and killer lately lol. this is partly your fault.

How long has it been? Fifty? Seventy? Or maybe even two hundred Resets? And Chara still isn’t done with this world yet, it seems. This timeline, they want to see how the goat monster would react knowing her human child is still alive, then they would break her heart later on as some kind of sick justice. And so, Chara has been staying in the Ruins for weeks, leaving him directionless in the snow.

Flowey is nowhere to be found. Maybe that little weasel of a creature has caught up to something (not that it will matter anyway), or maybe Chara has dealt with him. It’s hard to know, not with how difficult thinking is lately. It’s like moving against the raging currents, every wave only making him more disoriented than the last.

Sans- no, Killer has been waiting for them in front of the door to the Ruins ever since the last Reset. There have been a few close calls where some monsters spotted him. But he remembers Chara’s words and stays away from them. The sentry dogs would chase him down and play with his bones mercilessly. The kid monsters would throw snowballs with rocks hidden inside at him. The other town residents would close their doors on him, leaving him freezing in the cold. Nothing good to come from them.

(“The world is a cruel place, Sansy,” Chara tells him as they rake their fingers through his broken bones. “They wouldn’t understand creatures like us – so far above monsters and humans it’s hilarious to know how close-minded the rest can be.”

The dead human child wraps their arms around his torso, snuggling their face into his oversize jacket. Their body is cold. They laugh, a broken melody. “I’m so glad I have you. I don’t need anyone else.” Their hug turns constricting, like a snake catching its prey. “You don’t need anyone else.”)

He must have dozed off from exhaustion because the next thing he knows is that very familiar rosy-cheeked face looking down at him with mirth.

“Killz, have you been waiting for me?” They smile beatifically, patting his head. “What a good friend you are.”

Killer turns to answer, but he feels numb all over. His body is heavy, and the warmth he could feel from his meager clothing is barely any at all. He can only manage to nod his head weakly. Chara laughs.

“Look at all that snow! How long have you been sitting by that door, you silly skeleton?”

They grab his arms and pull him up into a crushing hug again. If Killer was not already freezing, he would turn into a rock by how stiff his shoulders are. He forces his body to relax, to absorb every bit of warmth he can have from Chara.

“I miss you,” they murmur into his ribs, a soft cooing sound. They both stay like that for a few minutes before Killer can feel his legs working again.

Once he can stand and not trip over his feet like a clumsy Whimsun, Chara takes his hand and drags him forward to the town.

“I have a new game this time,” they cheer. “This time, let’s have you handle the EXP alone, okay?”

Killer can do nothing but nod. When Chara orders him to kill the dog couple, he does it. When they gesture him to attack the big guard dog, he complies. When they click their tongue at the jokes the feathered kid monster makes, he moves to silence them.

When the dust accumulates on the knife that Chara has gifted him, Killer feels more grounded than ever. The monsters are nothing compared to his friend – all their words and screams and pleads are white noise to his ears. Chara demands a piggy-back from him, and he drops to his knees without question. They trudge slowly forward to the deadly silent town, with Chara wrapping their arms tightly around Killer’s neck, their weight an oppressive force.

“Looks like everyone has been evacuated early, don’t you think?” Chara hums. “Oh, you can let me down now. I’m not tired anymore.”

Killer carefully puts the child down, mindful of the drop. Chara makes a beeline to the house on the near end of the town. A very familiar house, Killer’s mind unhelpfully chimes.

And a very familiar face standing just outside the house. A lanky skeleton monster in a ridiculous battle armor, his scarf billowing in the wind.

“SANS?” the skeleton exclaims. “WHAT ARE YOU- WHERE WERE YOU THIS WHOLE TIME?”

“So, you didn’t seek anyone out,” his friend besides him says. “I know I can count on you.”

“STRANGE-LOOKING MONSTER, THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS GRATEFUL FOR YOU FINDING MY BROTHER! ARE YOU BY ANY CHANCE ANOTHER OF HIS FRIENDS?”

“Well yes!” Chara beams. “Sansy here is my best friend, really! We go a long way back.”

“WOWIE! BROTHER, WHY HAVEN’T YOU INTRODUCED ME TO YOUR STRANGE-LOOKING FRIEND? WE COULD HAVE BEEN BESTIES!”

“I mostly live in the Ruins. Though I bet Sans would kill to let us meet one day,” Chara turns to Killer, their smile wide, “don’t you, Sans?”

Imperative received, Killer rushes in to attack the monster. His opponent lets out a surprised yelp before throwing up an impressive shield out of bones. Undeterred, Killer starts to hack away at the construct, his determination spiralling inside his SOUL. When the barrier breaks, Killer tackles the monster to the ground. They roll in the ground, as Killer doesn’t expect his opponent to be so physically strong. In the end, he grabs the pristine white SOUL with blue magic and throws the other across the field. He summons a couple of cyan bones to pin the monster down while he crawls over him, his knife poised perfectly at the gravity-lead SOUL.

“STOP! SANS! BROTHER, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” the monster exclaims, sounding as if in distress. Something in Killer’s mangled SOUL stutters, as he unconsciously lowers in his weapon. The more he looks at the other skeletal face, the louder the voices in the back of his skull are. Something’s wrong something’s wrong something-

“Disappointing. So you cannot do it.”

Sans startles upon realizing how close Chara is. They’re standing, looming over both him and the skeleton monster. The expression on their face is indescribable, but Killer senses a tingling of fear running down his back.

“C-Chara,” he struggles to speak, his voice rough after so many weeks. “I can’t- I can’t-”

“Shut up.”

Sans clenches his jaw. Chara leans down and holds his hand holding the knife. They look at him straight in the eye sockets, unblinking, as they guide him into stabbing into the monster’s SOUL. The SOUL shatters immediately. Sans holds his eye contact with Chara in nervousness, even as the skeleton monster dusts under him, the dust getting all over his shirt and jacket.

In the oppressive silence that follows, neither of them moves or breathes. Chara’s hand holding his knife-hand is still bruisingly constrictive. Finally, they release their grip on his hand, only to grasp at his SOUL instead. Sans gasped, not expecting such a broiling mix of anger from Chara’s intent.

“You can’t do it because you’re not Killer.”

Sans grabs at Chara’s arms, his fingers digging into their flesh and drawing blood. Nevertheless, Chara’s hold on his SOUL doesn’t relent. They violently and abruptly pull his SOUL out of his body, their other hand resting on the back of his neck as they let him rest his head on their laps.

“Killer… doesn’t defy me.”

They stare down at him, a look of apathy in their dark eyes.

“Killer doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t think twice before murder. Every action he makes, he does it for me.”

Squeeze. Pain. Hurt. No no no-

“He does it because he loves me. As his best friend. As his partner. As his creator.”

Their shadowed face illuminated by the red light from his SOUL.

“I don’t know why you’re still here. If you’re going to get in our way… then die.”

*

The wind howls. Chara sits in the aftermath, cradling the spinning SOUL in their hands.

The body is unmoving. There’s no sign of it getting up any time soon.

“Hey Killer…” they hold the SOUL to their eye level. “Are you there?”

The SOUL pulses. The dead child smiles.

“It’s okay. The comedian is defeated. Now you belong to me.”

Maybe they should redo this all over. This timeline is a bust. There’s nothing to show Killer here. Everything is so monotonous without him.

“We’ll be together forever, right?” Chara gently pulls the SOUL closer to their empty cold chest. “Let’s play our games together, watch silly cartoons together, and annoy Asriel together. Let’s live a happy life forever, okay?”

Only silence greets them. And yet, they feel hopeful.

[junipers-archive]

Hi !!! I love your fics so much! They make me physically feel things and that’s the best feeling 🥹 if you do requests could you write something with Spencer where his gf is still at uni and just really overwhelmed with studying or writing stuff because she procrastinates do badly and she like blames herself but he makes it all better and looks after her ?🥹

Thank you sm!! honestly I needed this bc I've been over-working myself too :')

You were tired, no, beyond tried you were drained, worn out and fatigued. But to be fair, it was your own fault, you were the one who had insisted on persuing a phd, but unlike Spencer it was your first one. And you didn't think it'd be this hard.

But thats beside the fact, as of current you were on your way to meet said boyfriend for lunch.

When you finally get to the agreed resturaunt you can barley hold yourself up, it'd been a tough night you'd had three exams upcoming and you'd unwisely decided to pull an all-nighter.

When you see him a wave of relief follows as you basically flop against him. And maybe its the way you start to shake or the silent sighs you let out while clinging to him but you don't realize he's led you back to your car until you look up.

"Where are your keys?" he's looking down at you with a concerned expression and you can't hold back your tears now.

"W-what are you doing?"

He tilts his head like you've said the most absurd thing in the world, finding the keys in your purse and opening the car.

Once you're both inside he finally answers, "We are going home."

You feel terrible, all he wanted to do was eat lunch, he took time out of his busy schedule and now he has to take care of you?

"You-You don't have to Spence, I-I'm sorry, I just, I had a hard time studying because my professor she wanted an essay by the end of the week and I procrastinated and it's all my fault i'm so stupid-"

He silences you as he puts his hand over yours, reaching over as he drives you both home, squeezing it comfortingly.

"I know. I know Y/n, I was a phd student too and I know. And you're not stupid, you're just tired. It's okay to be tired."

Those words alone make your heart clench.

When you get home to your shared apartment he carries you bridal style despite your attempts to disuade him.

He lays you down on your couch, placing the fluffiest blanket you own on top. Kissing your forehead as he relieves you of his warm arms.

"I'll be right back." You're about to argue for him to go back to work but he pecks your lips, letting them linger sweetly before you can.

He returns with his hands filled with your favorite tea, two facemasks, an entire cookie can, a menu and more.

About to question him he answers like he can read your mind,

"For take out! Remember that Chinese place we were looking at?"

He sits down on the other side of the comfy sage couch, lifting your feet to rest on his lap and replacing your thin no-show socks with fuzzy penguin ones, turning on the tv he hands you the remote.

The tea is placed beside you on the coffee table, the cookie can sits between you and once he orders from the menu he helps you apply the face masks.

Funnily enough he grabbed the only ones you had that were animal themed, and when you're both 'exfoliating' and relaxing he looks like panda and you a duckling.

You watch 'Star Wars: Return Of The Jedi' and he answers the door when the takeout gets there.

As you're eating Kung-pow chicken, snuggled against him, now changed into your comfiest pjs you realize you'd forgotten to say thank you. But nothing seems like a big enough thanks for what he's done, so you reach over to squeeze his hand, and he gets it instantly.

"There's no need, its my job to take care of you. I love you. You're my person." And he's smiling and he's perfect and you think then that you could sit here in this moment for the rest of your life.

[desultory-suggestions]

hi there, thank you so much for running this blog! i have been following you for a long time and appreciate what you do so much, and i’ve been struggling with something and was looking for an ear or some advice so i thought i would come here.

this summer has been pretty hard on me mentally for a few reasons. being back home with family, as I live across the country for university and even studied abroad this semester, it’s always an adjustment living with people I love but sometimes struggle dealing with. i’m also back to an environment where I have no strict schedule, less friends, no privacy, no personal space, etc., and i got pretty sick for a portion of the summer.

this is my last summer before i graduate and i put many expectations on myself for how it would go (fun/personal life wise, but also academics/career wise). despite this sense of urgency and also these expectations, this past month of june i basically just rotted away in my bed, feeling depressed and anxious and not really doing anything about it. i did go out and about a few times and even got myself hired for two jobs, but there were so many responsibilities i ignored while rotting away and just feeling miserable for myself. now im finally clawing my way out of this hole i dug for myself, and im realizing how much i screwed myself over—all of the things i need to do would have been so much easier and enjoyable (!!!!!) had i not procrastinated. it feels like my memory for june is mainly just a haze when it could have been so great.

my question is—how do i cope with these feelings of self-disappointment, and almost self-disgust for the time i lost? for the moments i could have been better but didn’t? how do i cope with the knowledge that my summer could have looked totally different now, and that the power was in my hands to change it? the rest of my summer is looking pretty busy as i scramble to pick up the missing pieces, and im sad because i wanted it to feel special since it’s my last summer of university. any time i acknowledge the challenges i faced and the victories i did have just feels like making excuses for myself.

anyways, sorry for this ramble, and thank you for your time! i hope you are doing well and enjoying yourself.

Hello, dearest. First of all I want to tell you that I am so proud of you. I know right now you’re struggling with these heavy feelings, and it’s important to know that despite your inner struggles you are seen and loved and respected by those around you.

It sounds like you have worked very hard and been very busy for a long time. I know as a full time college student myself that the amount of work expected of us is often unbearable. People talk about it like a simple process, a part time commitment. It is not! You have been working a constant minimum of a full time job, plus additional work for pay, plus travel, plus family and friends needs, plus basic self care. Of course all of this can be so overwhelming and lead to a sense of burn out. Changing the language you use is giving reasons is not making excuses. Cultivate a mindset of correcting yourself:

“I’m making excuses -> I’m acknowledging the challenges and moving forward.”

I found quickly into college my high achiever mindset flipped into a constant sense of failure. I felt like I couldn’t do anything right, and like I just fell behind everyone else I respect. I wallowed in this for far too long, so trust me when I tell you not to spend all your time worrying about the past. Everyone has had a time like these, sometimes weeks, months, and sometimes years. But it is never too late to change the present and future.

You may not feel like it, but if summer meant laying in bed and barely doing anything maybe that’s what you needed. If your body and mind were too beaten down to do much, that’s not your fault. Remember that you are just one person, and this was one summer. You will have countless more summers to live out your dreams. Summer 2022 I barely left my room, depression, anxious, I pretty much rotted in bed! I was burnt out and struggling. Summer 2023 I worked my ass off at my new job, made friends, and started going to parties and even a music festival. Summer 2024 is now, and I’m in a solid mix of work, school, friends, and working to take care of myself. Life will not always look how we imagine it too, but often it will turn out much better.

Nothing that has already happened can be changed, all you have power over is the current and the future. Tons of people express the same sentiment to me

“I didn’t do X and now all I do is Y and it makes me feel Z so I don’t do X!”

And I totally understand! But this is the trap right here! This is what resembles the grave but isn’t! The more time you spend contemplating what you should have done the more past you create where you didn’t do what you wanted. It is so important to develop the ability to go “oh well, what do I want Now?” This takes practice. When you catch yourself in the internal doomscroll of all that you should have done, literally say “oh well, that’s the past. What do I want to do right now and how can I do it?”

Actions you can take:

- Make a list of goals you have tiered by right away, short term, medium term, and long term. Make sure to include a tier for goals that feel impossible! You’d be surprised what you can do!

- Start by picking one thing you want to change. Go on a walk every day, listen to an audiobook or music on that walk. Bam! Two enriching activities at once. Cook one new recipe a week or every other week.

- When at home from school, work to establish your independence in the home. This is hard! Family dynamics vary, but if you can, try to communicate with your family about personal space and boundaries. Perhaps rearrange your space at home to fit your needs as a more adult space while still maintaining your nostalgic environment.

- Cultivate a positive mindset and excitement for what comes next. This summer is not just an end, it’s a beginning! What do you want next? You can have it if you believe in yourself.

A final piece of advice. I started college with such high hopes and dream of what it would be. The summers with friends, late night studying in the library, goofing off between classes, getting to be this dream idealized self. For various reasons, this didn’t happen. I felt so angry that my experience with college had been tainted and forcefully taken from me, and I stayed angry for a while. This constant obsession with regret starts to eat you alive until you can’t see how good things are right in this moment. This did not get better because I somehow changed the past, it got better because I accepted that this was an idealized dream of one tiny part of my life. It got better when I started aiming towards the future. It’s ok to feel sad that you didn’t get what you wanted, but that doesn’t mean you never will. I am happier for moving on and saying I’d had enough grieving a hypothetical. You are real, you are young and alive and filled with dreams. It will never be too late, and there is nothing you could have missed this summer that cannot be achieved in a happier and healthier situation.

Start making today special. You are filled with light, dreams, and love. You will create the life you dreamed of, filled with adventure and happiness. Treat yourself tenderly, this is your first time being alive, the first last summer of college. You are learning and growing. I am so proud of you as you are now, and all that you will become. Keep the sparks alive, and I’m always here if you need someone to support or another senior in college to lean on!

I hope this helps!

Evan

P.S. here’s a poem that’s helped me!

[bleachtaire]

Cloud Fort 101 | Shogo Yamato x Reader

Comfort, fluff, Shogo is overworking himself, tired x even more tired, cuddles, HERO-AKMU, WAY 4 LUV-PLAVE

As usual, Shogo returned to the dorm in a worryingly tired state. The day’s dance practice was more intense than usual and that took a lot from Shogo’s strength. He came back to the dorm staggering along the wall, leaning to the elevator’s side as his legs were about to give up. Finally, when he entered his dorm and made sure to lock the door, he crashed to the floor, sprawling his limbs across the narrow hallway.

Soon, your soft footsteps woke Shogo from his mental exhaustion. You, his roommate, also a trainee of the same company, saw him sprawled out on the floor and sighed. If you’re in the industry, a lot of things are there to witness. Many things that idols try so hard to conceal to the public, you saw it all while they lay bare for you. You saw Shogo’s exhausted body sprawled on the hallway and you can’t help but feel the need to do something for your dorm-mate.

“Hey, sorry if I woke you up,” A sad smile stretched across his face. It is quite late at night and usually you would already be in bed. However, today in particular you stayed up late finishing a project your manager gave you last week and was due in two days.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t asleep yet.” You gently sat beside him, giving him simple company while thinking up something for him. You both relished in comfortable silence for a while until Shogo moved and sat up, finally taking off his shoes.

“Why’re you staying up late? You’ve always been an advocate of sleeping schedules and getting the right amount of sleep.” Shogo asked.

You sighed, “finishing a project from the manager, the due is close.”

“Really reader? Procrastinating again?”

“It’s not my fault I didn’t have time to do it earlier,” you pouted.

He chuckled just a little bit, before yawning.

“Tired?” you asked softly.

“More than tired,” he replied, dragging his limbs off the floor and towards the shared bathroom.

“Tell you what,” you picked his attention. “I’ll prepare something for us.”

“Prepare? Don’t you think we’re both too tired for some food?”

“Not food, something comfy”

With the word ‘comfy’, his eyes woke up just a little bit and smiled, “Sure, I’ll go to you after I take a shower, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And with that, you started hauling your blankets, comforters and pillows (also Shogo’s) to the living room. You meticulously (as best as you could in your sleep deprived state) arrange the furniture away from the center of the living room where the soft carpet is located and layering blankets and comforters on the carpet, not forgetting to put one above the furniture, ending with a soft-colored pillow fort.

“Reader?” Shogo called you from the bathroom.

“In the living room.” You called back. You hear his footsteps softly padding along the wood floor towards you.

“A pillow fort?” He said as soon as he saw your creation.

“Yea, it’s comfy right?” You kneeled in front of the pillow fort entrance.

He slowly kneeled beside you, peering inside the fort. He can see it now, the star projector on the very edge of the fort lighting the fort with starry skies and plushies, yours and his plushies.

“You also got them,” he mumbled under his breath, barely audible to you, and he smiled fondly looking at the matching plushies.

“Well then, let’s get in.” He slowly crawls on the soft carpet, the feathers tickling his palms as he enters the fort and is greeted by yours and his comforter, the cold pillow and the huggable plushie set in the middle of the fort. He was instantly sleepy, way sleepier than when he got home. He wants nothing more than to just lay down, close his eyes, and greet sleep with open arms like a baby waiting for his mother’s hug.

“That tired huh,” you crawled in after him.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I wanna sleep so bad,” his speech already slurred with his eyes weighed down with sleepiness.

You cooed at him, finding him very cute at the moment. You instinctively raised your hand to his head and began to pat him softly, fingers carding through his soft and well-maintained hair. He further relaxed into the comforter and pillow at your gesture and hugged his plushie tighter.

You soon yawned too, the atmosphere too relaxing and comfortable to keep you alert and awake. You can hear his soft breathing and small snore escaping his lips. You lay down beside him, looking at his sleeping face, feeling peaceful and content, and with that you finally let yourself float to dreamland, joining Shogo.

[jamneuromain]

JAM RAMBLES

Happy June!

I have just got my tesol certificate and soooo ready to apply for jobs and whatnot! --I'm going to plan the TKT and CELTA for my second half year when I'm available.. especially CELTA.

And I have recently joined a Stop Procrastination Training program for the sake of my personal wellbeing. It's a lil expensive but I really need to do something to deal with my procrastination -- and on the other hand, it's slightly relaxing to know that there's some one (like, half of the program attenders and almost all of my tumblr moots) out there in the world procrastinating more than I do lol

On a more serious note, the job application I ranted about a couple of weeks earlier finally got a reply (of some sorts). I got a call earlier this week with a frantically apologizing hr -which, tbh, it wasn't his fault- but the uni has decided that this hr would be the fall guy, so...

It was not the best outcome we anticipated, but it's just ... this, for now.

And I've got an interview slot later this week for a rather large company. They don't pay well but they have this position overseas.

To be honest, I am still debating on whether I should apply for a PhD. I'm not good at doing research, but I'm not bad at writing papers or conducting classes, the latter one I really enjoy. But to attain a position as a college english lecturer, PhD seems like a must in most places. Also that the particular field I study, Intercultural Communication, is a rather new and less-supervised and ... uh Language and Liberal Arts field that doesn't come with a lot of professors and universities to choose from, not to mention that HEAVILY TUITIONED places like UK/US is a big hard no for me. So for now, I'm going to apply to those lecturer positions which demand less (like in Japan, that sometimes doesn't need a phd to apply for this position, AND ALSO IT LACKS YOUNG PPL WHO ARE OF AGE TO WORK, LIKE, A LOT? I think the chances are high) and we'll see how this goes. If it runs smoothly, than yay. If not, I probably have to endure another four (or five) years of academic life.

Stay hydrated and stay positive, I guess!

[sandwitchstories]

Grown Up Birthday Blues

Happy Birthday to the most perfect man ever thought up, Kyojuro Rengoku!

Have a little self indulgent birthday smut inspired by yours truly being bummed out that I had to work on my birthday this year.

Not beta read or edited since I wanted to post it on his actual birthday. I have never wrote a x you story before, this was fun to write. I will not lie. Hope you enjoy more of my filthy Rengoku brain rot!! Comments, likes and shares are always appreciated!! If you would prefer to read it on AO3 click here Being a grown up sucks. Kyojuro Rengoku's birthday falls on a week day this year. If that is not annoying enough, he has a stack of papers that he absolutely, positively cannot put off grading any longer. Luckily for our flame boy, you come home determined to make his day better and help him find the motivation to get his work done.

CW: AFAB Reader, Smut, AFAB terms used to describe reader's anatomy, MDNI, blow job, cunnilingus, fingering... it's filthy birthday smut.

Picture it with me if you will…

It's Kyojuro’s birthday, but unfortunately it falls on a work day, and he has a pile of quizzes to grade. You come home from work to see him looking dejected as his red pen swipes across the paper in front of him. 

You approach him from behind, leaning over to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his cheek. You smile when he tilts and turns his head to receive your kiss. 

You ask him how much longer until he thinks he will be done. He sighs and gives a non-committal response. You ask if he's hungry and uncharacteristically he says no. Poor man has got the ‘Grown Up Birthday Blues.’ 

Well that just won’t do. So you smile at him, running your fingers down the sides of his neck. He arches an eyebrow at you. After years together, he can easily sense the subtle change in your energy, see the exact moment interest creeps into your eyes. He needs to get this work done, but his cock is already starting to get hard at the thought and the way your fingers are trailing down to the buttons still done on his shirt.

You encourage him to keep grading the assignments, even guiding his hand with the red pen clutched in it back to the paper in front of him. Kyojuro finds himself shuffling things around on his desk as he looks for his answer key. 

Sure, he knows all the answers. Come on, he’s the one who made the damn thing. 

He knows the history itself like the back of his hand. You cannot teach what you do not know.

But he can’t concentrate for shit while your fingers are unbuttoning his shirt, teasingly tracing your fingers over the skin each button reveals. He pauses, letting out a slow breath when your lips touch the skin of his neck. 

“Keep going or I’ll stop, birthday boy or not,” you tease in his ear, nipping the lobe playfully. “And I really don’t want to stop, Kyo. Birthday sex always makes everything better, huh, baby?”

He grunts but does as you said. These grades are due tomorrow and it is his own fault for procrastinating. He starts to compare the answer key to the quizzes in front of him and your hands resume their mission. 

You tell him every time he completes one of the stacks of papers in front of him, one of you will lose a piece of clothing. The first thing to go is his shirt. It is in the way of you peppering his broad shoulders with kisses and running your fingers over the chiseled planes of his front. His breathing is getting a little rougher. 

You move to lean against his desk, gesturing for him to keep going. His eyes flick back and forth between sloppy handwriting on a partially crumpled paper (he doesn’t even have to look at the name to know this belongs to Hashibira) and your fingers working through the buttons on your own shirt. He finishes the pile and your shirt is tossed off into what could very well be the void for all he cares right now.

He adjusts a little in his seat. His cock is throbbing now, dying to know what it is you have in store for him. He is ever the strategist and next he grabs a small pile of re-done tests, finishing them quickly and staring at you waiting. 

You chuckle and remove your bra. He reaches out a hand, his fingers run back and forth over your hard nipple, giving it  a little tweak and smirking at the way you bite your lip. You tell him to go back to grading. Next off is your skirt, soon followed by your panties, you are standing before him now in only your thigh highs and the poor man cannot concentrate for shit. 

You move to stand closer to him. You let him reach up, brushing his fingertips against your bottom lip. He trails his fingers from your throat down your body, between the valley of your breasts, down your soft stomach. He turns the angle of his hand and slides it between your legs. Before he can do more than cup your pussy you grab his hand at the wrist. You lock your fingers together and bring your joined hands to your lips, kissing each of his knuckles before releasing his hand and reminding him that he has papers to finish grading.

Kyojuro lets out what sounds almost like a growl of frustration, his eyebrows pulling together. You smile, leaning forward to kiss him, letting your large breasts press against his chest. You tangle your hands in his hair and kiss him thoroughly before breaking the kiss abruptly, hands still in his hair, holding his head back. He looks so fucking sexy with his eyes glossy with want and his cheeks slightly flushed, biting his bottom lip. You push his chair back just enough for you to get under the desk. 

You slide your hands up his thick slack covered thighs and undo his belt. You look up at him and casually ask him how much more he has to go as you trail your fingers over the bulge between his legs. He grunts and glances up at his desk and answers 3 more sets of quizzes to go. 

You unzip his pants and tell him he should hurry up. It is not long before you are working off his pants, leaving him in just his red microfiber boxers.

You suck in your bottom lip and drink in the sight before you. Kyojuro is all hard planes and tanned skin. Your hands knead his thick thighs as you lean forward and exhale against his still covered hard on, smirking a little when his cock twitches. 

He closes his eyes and lets out a shaky breath as you trace the shape of his cock through his underwear with your tongue. You have gotten yourself as worked up as he is right now. You slide a hand between your legs and moan as you rub yourself.

“I’m so fucking wet… Hurry, Kyo,” you say, looking up at him as you mouth at his cock. 

You use your free hand to start pulling his boxers lower, licking across his skin. He grunts and grades papers faster than he ever has in his entire life, shoving the stack away from him.

“Good job,” you smile.

He lifts his hips so you can remove his boxers, he settles back down into his seat. Kyojuro fists a hand in your hair, tilting your head back. “Have you had your fun, my love?”

“I’m not done,” you tell him, raking your nails lightly over his thighs.

“Oh, but you are,” he says. 

He grabs his tie from where he had chucked it on his desk earlier, and takes your hands in his. He kisses each wrist before using his tie to bind them together. You’ve done this before. The bind is loose and you can easily get out of it. But you won’t. That look in his eyes has your pussy clenching, longing for him to be inside you. The smirk on his face and the way his eyes fucking devour you makes it absolutely clear- Kyojuro is in control now.

He leans over to kiss you passionately before reclining back in his chair and gesturing at his cock, standing tall and hard, swollen tip already leaking. “As you were.”

You lick up and down his cock, mouthing at the head and tonguing the leaking slit on top. You love the taste of his skin and the white pearls mixing on your tongue. It doesn't take long for you to be taking him all the way into your mouth, going down until your nose is bumping warm skin and neatly trimmed golden hairs. 

His hand is tangled in your hair controlling your speed, depth, and how long you stayed down with his cock buried deep in your throat. The pace he has you bobbing at isn’t slow and gentle, nor is it anywhere near as rough has he has been before. It’s a steady rhythm of long and short pauses. As he pulls you down deeper on his cock than he has yet you swallow around him. The contracting of your throat causes him to heave out a long shaky breath.

He pulls you off of his cock, taking a moment to take in the sight of you between his legs with your lips slightly red, slightly swollen. Your spit shines on your lips and around your mouth. You look so fucking sexy he’s tempted to take out his phone and snap a picture, so he can look at this again and again and again. Maybe later.

He helps you stand up, pulling you closer by your hips and pressing his erection into your stomach. His hands move to cup your face while kissing you deeply, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. 

Kyojuro breaks the kiss and turns you around so you are bent over his desk resting on your bound forearms. He uses his feet to spread your legs wide before he sits down in his chair. 

You bite your lip as he kneads the fat of your ass, gripping your rounded cheeks and pulling them apart to look at your pussy. He moves his thumbs to spread your slick lips wide open.

“So wet already,” he says, running his thumbs up and down your lips, pinching your clit between them, making you cry out.

You shiver as you feel his hot breath against your pussy.

“I think I’ll have my dessert now.”

It is a known fact that Kyojuro Rengoku LOVES to eat. And your pussy is his favorite food. He licks and sucks at you while his fingers work your pussy open. The feeling of his tongue flicking back and forth while he sucks at your clit has your legs shaking, struggling to hold yourself up. Your pussy is pulsing and clenching, fucking dripping. The room is filled with your moans and the sounds of him feasting and fingering your needy hole. 

“Cum for me, my love. The sooner you cum for me, the sooner you can have my cock,” he says, nipping your butt.

You whimper, your hips moving on their own, riding his hand, not a care given to how silly or slutty you look as you bounce against the 3 digits fucking your hole. “I’m trying baby, I’m trying… I’m so close…”

“I know what you need, always,” he says with a voice slightly deeper than normal. 

As his lips resume their assault on your clit, he slides his slick fingers back and presses it into your ass. The tip of his fingers circles and prods at the tight muscle gently before pressing his finger all the way inside and beginning to pump. The sensation is just what you need and you scream his name as your orgasm over powers you. 

Your legs give out from the force of your orgasm but he catches you, arms wrapping around your middle holding you up. He kisses your shoulder, your neck, the side of your head, telling you how good you did and how hot you looked, how he can’t wait to get his big hard cock inside you. 

He moves you so that you are sitting on his desk, ass at the edge with your legs bent up and spread, your pussy wide open, begging for him. He straightens up and grabs hold of his cock, rubbing the blunt head up and down your slit collecting your nectar. His cock catches on your hole and he pushes in just the tip. He leans over and puts a hand behind your neck, kissing you gently.

Kyojuro stays there, holding your gaze, one hand the back of your neck, the other holding your leg behind the knee, as he presses inside you. He gives a low seductive laugh as he watches the way your eyes roll back into your head as his cock stretches you to capacity, feeding you inch by inch. 

He groans and grinds against you once his hips are flush with your ass. The feeling of him inside you and the grinding pressure on your clit makes you jerk and moan. His hand leaves your hip to undo the tie on your wrist so you can bury your hands in his hair like he knows you want to do. Like he wants you to do. 

He groans as you break the kiss to arch your neck back as pleasure courses through you when he starts to move. Your hands are tight in his hair, holding him to your neck as you whimper and babble desperately and lock your legs around his waist. His hands are digging into your hips,  holding you down while he fucks you hard and fast.

“You’re gonna break the desk,” you moan as you hear the ancient wood creak. 

“That, my love, is just called bragging rights,” he says, not slowing down for a second. 

You curse and moan as he pounds into your tight hole. The entire time he is kissing you and telling you how sexy you look, how good your pussy feels, how tight you are, how much he loves you and your pussy. 

“Cum with me,” he says, adjusting his angle until you cry out signalling he has found that perfect spot that when he hits it makes your whole body quiver and quake… makes your pussy clench even fucking tighter around his cock. “There it is… fuck… thats right… Gods, yes… take me with you…”

You bury one hand in his hair, pulling his lips to your for a frenzied, messy kiss as your other hand slides between your legs. You’re so close. So fucking close. His cock feels so good bullying into your dripping hole. He moves his hand to slide his thumb between your pussy lips to press down on and rub your clit in time with his thrusts. 

Your body tightens and you once again feel heat pooling between your legs. His thrusts are getting more erratic and harder, your tits bouncing with each impact of his hips against your ass. And then your orgasm tears you apart. You scream out his name and rake your nails down his back. He cries out as he feels your orgasm hit. Your walls cinch around him and flutter. His mouth falls open as he watches you cum on his cock. The sight and feel of you falling apart for him pulls him over the edge. 

He cries out your name as he cums, thrusting against you until absolutely spent. He leans forward over you, bracing on his one palm, the other hand cups your cheek. His cheeks are flushed and there's a sheen of sweat on his skin. His breathing is ragged but he’s got a smile from ear to ear. 

“Thank you,” he says with a chuckle, leaning over to give you several soft, sweet kisses. 

“No thanks are needed, birthday boy. That was my pleasure. Several times in fact.”

He grins. “Well, if you enjoyed that then you are in luck!”

“How so?” you ask, cocking your head to the side.

He grinds his hips against you, shivering from the sensation on his over sensitive cock still buried deep inside you. “Midterms are next week.”

[spoonyglitteraunt]

Brains are weird.

I struggled to log in yesterday. As I struggled, and failed, to log in all week. I wanted to, but something about having been gone so long made it feel too overwhelming to face.

Each time I made the decision that Today would be the day, my brain threw up ALL the executive dysfunctioning walls. It just noped out all the way into productively procrastinating on tasks months in the waiting. The accompanying inner monologue fluctuated between predictable to barely making sense.

It's so. much. work. Brain argued. So much backlog to go through and you're so tired. We'll do it tomorrow. (Not entirely unfair, but then I never have energy.)

You've got tasks to do today. You neglected your to do list all month. You'll get distracted. We'll do it tomorrow. (There is always one task more. Always.)

Oh but would you even still be able to follow? (As if the topics here don't shift with the memes wind.) You don't have the attention span today to try and make sense of the newest blorbo/horse-plinko/spn world news. We'll do it tomorrow.

Do you even have a place still? (Yeah, sorry, I've got nothing on this one either.)

Something was rallying the anxiety gremlins, but the "reasons", were really no more than attempted rationalisations for something grinding beneath the surface. Something I could not put my finger on. Something I could only describe as a wordless, undefined, yet all encompassing dread. ... Eventually I managed to force through. I'm glad I did, because in an odd way it felt a little like coming home. I missed the interesting and funny people in my magic box. Missed getting to see what you are all obsessed with getting up to now.

It wasn't until just now that I think I hit upon what was causing the anxiety gremlins' great wall of awful.

You're given balls to juggle. No choice, no guidance (or guidance you can't understand), just one instruction. Whatever you do. Just. Keep. Juggling.

You do your best, yet sooner or later you miss. An unexpected bump, a freak gust of wind, a miscalculation, and you lose your grip. The ball drops. Shattering to pieces on the ground.

Wait... The ball was made of glass? But why? Are other people's balls made of glass? You swear you just saw someone bounce and grab theirs. That one there is on the floor. A bit scuffed, but whole, and ready to be picked up again. So why did yours shatter on impact? Who even makes glass juggling balls and why did no one warn you?

There are a lot of questions and no answers. But the why doesn't really matter. What matters is that your ball is broken. Shards on the floor. Adrenaline in your veins.

You didn't want to drop it. Your tried so hard not to drop it. You tried so hard it hurt. But it's broken now and you can't put it back together.

This is when people take notice. Parents, teachers, authority figures, peers. They look at the shattered ball and don't, can't, won't understand.

It was so easy! They tell you. It was just a few balls, and they barely weigh anything at all. We told you to keep juggling. We told you it was important. Why can you do complicated tricks, but not keep this one tiny ball in the air? Why didn't you just pick it back up? How did you even break it? Were you even trying? Were you even listening? Do you even care?

There is a unique type of trauma that comes from growing up ND (or with a disability too really). Especially when only diagnosed in adulthood.

You've been given glass balls with no warnings, or functional guidance on how to keep them whole. Everyone makes mistakes, but where theirs bounce, yours seem to shatter. And everyone treats that as your fault somehow. It doesn't matter if it was out of your control, and you really did try very hard. Worse even if you are otherwise quite smart or capable. Because then "you have no excuse". But others aren't juggling glass balls. Glass that weighs nor acts like the rubber ones they are using.

So you learn to internalise that every minor mistake. Every minor failing. Every perceived carelessness, or heck even just one less confident grab that could have missed, is a personal failing. Something to incite ire, disproportionate consequences, and rejection.

I think that is what the anxiety gremlins were trying to wall in. The fear that me not having been able to log in for so long was dropping and shattering a ball. The dread that logging in would somehow end in blame and rejection. Even though I didn't choose to get sick, or get thrown a glass curveball.

Obviously, rational me can see that was never going to happen. But the part of my brain impacted by years of undiagnosed ND-ness? Not so much.

It chose to protect. To shield. To avoid. Unable to even properly convey what was going on beyond a general feeling of dread. Because when the shards are on the floor and the adrenaline is in your veins, you don't stand around analysing feelings. You run.

So yeah, brains are weird.

Good thing we're weirder.

[shadowwolf146]

For someone who went to school to be a journalist I sure fucking suck at following through.

So my mom's asked me idk how many fucking times the last few weeks to cut my sister's nails. (She can't do it herself cause shes disabled.) And I didn't. I forgot or I remembered late at night when she was asleep (neither of those are good excuses for me since I dont have anything that makes remembering shit hard) and to cut a long lecture/yell short I fucked up. My sis scratched herself up in her sleep and she scratched mom too, both could've been prevented by me doing the one thing I was asked to do. Problem is that my sister's caseworker people are allowed random inspections whenever so if they show up and my sis is all scratched up they leap to conclusions and take her away to a home somewhere where they'll scoop out her organs or steal her kidneys for other patients or r*pe her or other awful stuff I've been told. So then I got yelled at, (justifiably) because yeah that's fair (and I'm an idiot) and I really do hate myself cause I'm falling back into old habits of not following through or procrastinating when i know i shouldn't and it ALWAYS bites me in the ass. And then I end up doing it again and here we are. Long and short of it is I'm venting, I'm being a idiot who doesn't like criticism and I'm being a little bitch baby about it and hoping this will help me get it out of my system so I can...fuck idk, not do it again? Either way that sucked and I'm fucking being stupid and self depreciating and all that even tho I KNOW it doesn't help. I got nothing, just wanted to vent and didn't wanna tell my friends cause they'd just only have my side of the story to go on and thats not fair to my mom. All this to say that although she didn't intend to, momma did indeed raise a weak lil bitch. It's me. This isn't helping me FIX anything and Mom already clipped my sister's nails and screamed at me (again, fair this is my fault) so it's kinda over and I just gotta sit with it. I guess. How does ANYBODY DO THIS SHIT? Like genuinely. HOW? It feels like I'm always fucking something up and then I don't really know what to when I get called out and I just-DAMNIT. (So yeah I wanna be dead lmao)

Anyway nobody will probably read this and that's cool just getting my stupid shit out somewhere I guess. I don't deserve any pity for it either cause it's my fault and it's just my brain eating itself and shitting out bullshit I guess. So yeah.

[torilaa]

Wednesday Writing Blog #1

So, I have a problem. A big problem for a writer at least. I have never finished a first draft. Hell any writing project really except for one or two short stories that I had to finish for college. Pressure seems to be the only way I spit things out. This is why I'm going to start making a blog post every week or so in order to remind myself that I need to write... Also because I love talking about writing. I think it would be great to spend every Wednesday or so venting or nerding out about it.

I could just be procrastinating again though.

Yup.

Anyway, today I figured out how my first book is going to end. They say the best thing to have before you start to write is an ending. I've been a pantser since I started writing, but I've discovered that really doesn't help with my motivation. If I don't know what happens next, I'm stumped for weeks. As for how I outline, I just use bullet points with acts 1-3. Any more structure than that and I feel constricted creatively. Any worldbuilding I have is thrown into the "Worldbuilding" folder. Let's hope I remember to update that as I write! Since worldbuilding is, yes, important but the story comes first.

I've made a basic outline so I'm rather confident about it for once. In fact, I wrote around 7k words so far (I scrapped basically all of what I wrote in 2017 with this concept which is...hard, but it had to be done since the MC is a very different character now).

Finally, I started reading Leviathan Wakes (the Expanse) partially for research purposes and partially because I loved the show.

Since I can't help but share, here is the alpha version of the first page:

Martin called it The Coffin.

The walls of the room were made of mirrors and a door that only Interrogator Martin Prouset could enter. The Order of Representatives made sure the room had nothing to distract the suspect except for the endless reflection of themselves, the table, the chairs, and the interrogator. These reflections made the room feel larger than it appeared to be in reality. Because it was small. Cramped. Three meters by three meters approximately and high enough so that the tallest man could stand with about an inch of clearance. The Coffin was a joke the Representatives played on both the suspect and the interrogator. Martin would rather be in a larger room, no, another place, a different time but instead, through fault of his own, he came into this room everyday to greet the mirrors, the table, the chairs. The only difference, ever, was the suspect that sat in that infernal chair.

Enough to make a man mad.

This new suspect? Dr. Theo Johansson, engineer with a memory quotient of 190 (that he would certainly brag about). Martin sat in the chair nearest the door and Theo Johansson’s reflection sat across from the table. Johansson’s wrinkled face was pale except the sockets beneath his eyes. Those deep eyes asked, “why?” The ones that forgot always asked why. Even doctors with an MQ of 190. The only people that looked at him were the ones that remembered what they did. Always it was with an expression of determined steel. Thankfully that wasn’t Johansson. The steel gaze always, always, made his blood run cold.

[dearfuturehusbandblog]

I Had A Moment

Dear Future Husband,

I've had a lot I've wanted to post here over the last few months but it's been too much, really, and a lot of the things I've wanted to say would come out sounding completely insensitive and that just wouldn't be appropriate for what everyone has been struggling with. I'm also slow at processing things properly, which I think I've made kind of clear in this blog in the past.

Regardless, I'll reiterate: I'm often too pragmatic, honestly to a fault.

Everything about the way I think and feel (or don't feel) is a direct symptom of the way I was raised, regardless of how in denial my parents are of the way they raised us.

I've been sleeping worse than normal for the last three months (it's literally 10:20am right now as I'm starting to write this and I still haven't slept since yesterday and I only slept about 3-4 hours yesterday, so you can probably see where this is going....) and I'm too tired to really explain myself thoroughly here right now, but I thought I should share this.

Since the war started in October I haven't felt much about it.

This is the whole insensitive thing I was talking about....

I'm a half a world away dealing with so many other things and b"H all the people I know in Israel are as safe as they can be during this insanity, so it's hard to relate to anything that's going on over there.

I've also never been much of an emotional person, so I've seen a lot of the footage and pictures and haven't had much of a reaction. Which is ridiculous, I know, and maybe one day when I'm not falling on my face I'll take time to go more in depth on what I mean, but today is not that day.

Anywho, when I was in Seminary in Israel a whole 15+ years ago, I started reciting the entire sefer tehillem during the week of Chanukah.

That lasted maybe four or five years, but I'm so slow at reading Hebrew that I would always procrastinate the days perakim and end up off schedule and it was too much pressure on myself to do something that nobody told me I had to do. So at some point I just stopped doing it.

But another "tradition" I started at the same time was doing a content "diet" and cutting out all non-kosher movies, tv, music, and books (except for bathroom reading) for the entire week of Chanukah. That is something I still do pretty much every year.

So during the rest of the year I listen to the radio or my non-Jewish music with the blutooth in my car, but during Chanukah it's only Jewish music.

Last Thursday night, the 8th night of Chanukah, I was listening to music in my car on the way to the supermarket to buy some things for Shabbos and the song L'man Achai by The Chevra came on.

I listened to it once, not having heard it in a long time, and sang along with it. The next song came on, but my mind was still on L'man Achai, so I put it on again, harmonizing with it. And then it sunk in as an earworm and I played it again.

And I had a moment.

It was on this third play that I actually listened to the words of the song. It's from two separate perakim of tehillem.

Leman achai v're'ai adabra na shalom bach Leman bes Hashem Elokeinu avaksha tov lach Hashem oz l'amo yiten, Hashem yivarech as amo ba'shalom

The first part is from Perek 122:

And the second is from Perek 29:

My translation skills aren't that good (hence the screenshots), so I was sitting in my car trying to suss out what exactly I was saying in the first part, but when I got to the second, I got completely choked up. Words just wouldn't come out right and tears did spring to my eyes. Although the tears didn't spill over, the knot in my throat took a while to dissipate and I stopped singing along with the song. All I could think about was how many people in Israel are wishing for peace and strength, and how many have picked themselves up after such a tragedy and are moving forward, not letting this keep them down at all.

And I thought about every galus we've been in. Every massacre of Jews for thousands of years because of feuds that run so deep in our history that even when they've been resolved by the people who started them, their children still carry that hatred in their hearts because they've been taught it's important, even when it's not their fight.

And the sarcastic and angry part of me was saying "Hashem gives us strength? He blesses us with peace? WHAT peace? WHAT strength???"

But the rest of me just felt the brokenness of it all.

I ended up playing the song several more times in a row, getting my voice back enough to yell out the lyrics, hoping if I could say them loud enough they'd permeate my soul and maybe I would feel something more than just that momentary strangle. That maybe just putting the words out into the world would be enough.

So after three months of playing the part of "it's so terrible, it's so sad" but not really feeling those emotions, something in my brain finally clicked. And I had that moment.

It's been a week and I've had the song on repeat in my head since then. It doesn't have the same impact on me as it did last Thursday in the car, but I keep thinking about it.

It's like the earworm of the century has burrowed into my brain and no matter what I do to distract myself the tune is always on the periphery of my thoughts.

Not that this whole situation hasn't been far from my mind every day anyway.... but now I have a small and constant reminder that I can have human feelings on occasion. It just sometimes takes three months for that moment.

-LivelyHeart

[annaraebananawriter]

(Part One) I Wish

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BLOVED BOYS, DREAM AND NIGHTMARE!!!

This is part one to a two part special for their birthday, thought the second part won’t be done until next week, probably. Curse my brain and it’s need to procrastinate on important fic ideas. 

Especially considering I have three gift exchanges to get done...

Anyway. I don’t have too much to add, so happy reading!

Fandom: Undertale/UTMV

Characters:   Dream, Nightmare (Who belong to Joku), Blue (Who belongs to P0pcornPr1nce), Ink (Who belongs to Comyet), and mentioned Error (Who belongs to CQ) and mentioned Bad Sanses

Warnings: Implied council members being generally toxic bosses, implied abuse from villagers, and I think that’s it. Let me know!

Summary: “It’s Dream and Nightmare’s birthday today. As per usual, they exchange gifts, though this year they can’t meet in person. They still have the gifts, though. (UTMV, Dreamtale Twins Centric)”

Word Count: 3603

~oOo~

He's late. Dream curses to himself as he stumbles over a stray piece of wood on his trek to the tree stump that was once his mother.

It wasn't necessarily his fault. Ink and Blue had roped him into their annual party for his birthday, even though every year he keeps telling them that they don't need to celebrate it and he really didn't need anything. Ink just laughs, slapping him on the back as if it's a joke and Blue just raises his eyebrow, looking sympathetic yet determined. And they invite some of their other friends, the few members of the council that they actually like, and he really can't say no and board himself up in his room when they arrive and seem so excited, now can he?

He gives up once his friends start coming and plasters on a smile, feeling happy for the company even if he doesn't particularly enjoy why they were there. Luckily, no one but Blue (and Ink, but Ink forgets sometimes, which isn't on his friend, not exactly, but still) understands his conflicted feelings and therefore isn't able to see through the act.

He doesn't hate his birthday. In fact, it's just the opposite. He loved—loves—his birthday, and would get so excited when he realized what day it was.

The villagers used to throw such a big celebration, too, with banners and streamers and balloons, and even sometimes treat it like a festival for someone of the highest honor. They would lock elbows with him and push him from stall to stall, making him try foods and showing him art, and giving him gifts. They had seemed so…expectant, almost, as if they knew he would love it all and wouldn't believe otherwise, and he was too scared to know the repercussions for denying such generosity, so he accepted it all, the same words of thanks falling from his mouth on repeat. It may sound bad, but it wasn't, and it started out fun even if it grew stale.

(Thought they never did remember to celebrate Night's birthday alongside his. They seemed to forget that they were two halves of a whole, born at the same time for the same purpose, just guarding two things. Whenever he reminded them that they had two people to celebrate, something dark would flash in their eyes and they would plow through as if they had never heard him.

He stopped asking after an important 'talk' with the mayor of the village, and just learned to avoid their eyes, keep his head down, and never ask questions. And of course to never say no to anything the villagers give him or want to take from him. That was a lesson hard earned too.)

The fact was that the date just grew to have certain negative feelings tied to it, bitter memories and harsh words covering the sound of laughter as their younger selves made snowballs and threw them at each other all day until their fingers were numb and they decided to cuddle together under Mother's branches to warm themselves up again. They never picked up the gift-giving aspect of it until the villagers moved in nearby and taught him about their traditions, and he then taught Nightmare, relishing the spark of untouched innocence and curiosity that only the aspect of new knowledge could give his brother. It’s a little bit funny, really, how even then Nighty had the look of a king in his eyes—that knowing, interested look when being told something he found interesting.

Maybe that was why he labeled himself as such, and why Dream found a castle where the village used to be and a garden surrounding Mother and his statue. Maybe it was all a reminiscence on the past, a nod to something only they would understand. A way to say ‘I know’ without saying the words.

Or maybe Dream was just putting words in other people’s mouths again.

Nonetheless, it had been especially hard to peel himself away from the party this year. It seemed as though everyone invited had realized he always left early and had some kind of vote he wasn’t aware of to keep him there as long as possible. It also seemed as though people were having a competition of who could keep him entertained the longest. He’ll have to talk to them about that, let them know that he did, in fact, notice the glares they shot at each other whenever someone else took his interest. It was like those shows that Blue likes to watch, where multiple people date one person and fight for the ‘right’ to their hand in marriage, only this one was far more uncomfortable because he never signed up for it.

Ink, who did sometimes take notice of Dream’s tense posture and was usually the one who (unknowingly) gave him the opening needed to take his leave, was distracted this year. He also up and disappeared shortly after the party started, leaving everyone in a state of confusion, though they shrugged it off after a few minutes.

It was Ink, after all. That should’ve been enough of an explanation.

Dream did privately ask Blue if he knew where their friend went, but Blue just smiled and said Ink was fine. “Just had something important to do, that’s all. He’ll be back before the party’s over.” He wouldn’t elaborate any more on it, no matter how much Dream prodded him.

As the party progressed, Dream found himself constantly glancing at a clock. Or more so trying to even find one. It seemed, in addition to vying for his attention, the guests had gotten their hands on all of the clocks and hidden them away somehow. He had no clue what time it was, but he felt the growing dread that he would be late. His attempts at leaving grew more and more obvious, until his frustration grew the more and more one guy keep blabbering in his ear about whatever nonsense was going on in his AU—probably really just an excuse to cajole Dream into visiting and helping out, even if nothing was needed.

Just as Dream had opened his mouth to snap at him to just let him leave, Blue swept in with as much grace as an angel sent to save him from devastation. If they were alone, he would’ve given his friend a big hug, maybe even a kiss on the cheek for extra thanks. His friend gave him a secret wink and seemed to shoo him off, and Dream tried his best to obey, politely shoving people out of the way.

Once successfully on the outskirts of the party, Dream let out a breath and prayed with all his might that he’d be able to finally leave. It seemed someone was listening because he was saved from further obstacles when Ink finally returned from wherever he had been, sopping wet clothes and what looked like a pile of snow in the shape of…something on top of his head, a dry and plainly wrapped present in hand. At once, he was the center of attention and Dream could run into his room to grab the present and leave as quickly as he could.

And even though he is late, at least he left that dreaded party. Nightmare wouldn’t mind him hanging out in the garden and talking to Mother as he waited until enough time passed and he could deem it safe enough to head back, would he? The place was off-limits to his gang, and he was fairly sure they had all left to have some holiday fun, too. Maybe they’d even dragged Nighty along for the ride.

Hopefully. Nighty did need to have some fun every now and then. With this thought in mind, Dream pauses and reaches his senses across the AU. He listens for any souls and gets silence—not one peep of any kind of emotions—which makes him smile. They did get Nightmare to join them, how kind of them. Once things eventually come to a standstill in their ‘war’, and that truce Ink is arguing with the council to implement finally gets through, he’ll have to ask them for pointers.

Maybe he could finally get Nighty to join him for some hangout sessions. And some sparring sessions. Blue was a good fighter, but Dream had to keep his magic usage to a minimum, which meant handicapping himself. It would be nice to fight against someone—that is, fighting without actually fighting, if you get his drift, and it would be nice to be able to not worry about holding back and test out some of his abilities he hadn’t had the chance to practice in a long time.

But, ah…he was getting ahead of himself.

Today wasn’t about what could be, though those thoughts were nice to think about on occasion.

Today was about their birthday, and right now was specifically about retrieving the present Nightmare got for him and placing his present for Nightmare in its place.

Usually, they’d just exchange gifts in person, but because he was late, he is hoping that Nighty just set the present down on Mother and left it there for him to find. He’d do the same with his present. His brother will no doubt check that he had received his present and, seeing it gone and a new one in its place, he could relax for the rest of the night. He was probably so worried when Dream didn’t arrive at the agreed-upon time.

Dream sighs, finally turning to Mother and the present that rested upon it. It was a light blue gift bag, and golden paper stuck out of the top of it. A card addressed to him with his brother’s looping handwriting was taped to one of the handles.

Same as always.

He replaces the present with the one he brought. And before he leaves, he stays there for a minute, debating with a thought that spawned into existence. Rolling it over, he glances up at the castle, peeking up through the trees in the garden, and he seeks out the window he was fairly sure led to Nightmare’s office. He looks back at the present and down at the bag, tightening his grip on the handle.

Well…it has been a while since he’d been able to break into a building. Maybe this was something to be corrected (though, it wouldn’t be the same without anybody to catch him in the act, but he could certainly just act like there was).

This will be fun.

~oOo~

Dream closes the door to the house and finally lets himself relax, leaning against it with his eyes closed. His soul was still beating fast from the adrenaline of breaking into his brother’s castle. It was kind of silly, considering he could’ve just waltzed in the front door like a normal person and nobody would even know he had been there, but that just wasn’t as fun. And this way, Nightmare gets a laugh as well as a present.

A present he hopefully likes. He had worked at getting it for a few months, keeping a close eye on their AU, seizing the chance whenever everybody was out to sneak himself in and scour the woods around the castle and the ground around Mother for any of the pages left from before the incident. And he wrote what he remembered and couldn’t find down as neatly as he could, many sleepless nights spent pouring over a blank page of notebook paper and nibbling on the top of a pen. Once he felt satisfied with what he had, he then asked someone from the council that he knew could do it to bind it all together properly. They had just gotten it done at the start of the month, which was perfect timing, leaving him with a few weeks to find a couple of other things to include in the gift as well.

And now that it was delivered, he could only wait and hope that Nightmare liked it. He’s sure he will. He knows his brother quite well, joined as they were to be two halves of a whole. This present will be something Nighty treasures, he’s sure of it.

Doesn’t stop part of him from doubting that confidence, though.

He sighs again and pushes himself up, walking into the (thankfully) deserted living room. Well, he says deserted, and it is devoid of the party guests, but not of his friends. Ink sits upside down on the couch, dry clothes on and the present ripped open beside him. He’s playing with a piece of wrapping paper, shredding it into smaller pieces with his hands. He’s rambling on about something he saw earlier, and Blue walks sound with a rag in one hand and a bag in another, picking up trash and wiping up spilled drinks. He’s listening to Ink, making comments when necessary. The TV is on and the volume has been muted.

Ink finishes his story and the paper in his hands falls to the floor as he turns himself to sit cross-legged. Reaching for another piece of wrapping paper, he finally notices Dream smiling at him and he beams back, waving. “Hey, Dream! Welcome back!”

Blue looks over as well and smiles. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Dream says, setting his present down on the coffee table. “How’d the part go?”

“You mean the party that was for you and you abandoned?” Ink leans forward to prod at the bag. “It was fine. Great to start with, as always, but then once one member starts bringing up business, the rest seem to all believe it’s a meeting instead of a party.”

Dream frowns, batting his hand away as it tugs the bag forward. “I’m sorry. I keep telling you I don’t want a celebration.”

“I’ll change your mind one day, I promise.”

“It’s not your fault, Dream,” Blue says, setting the garbage bag down for a minute. “Maybe we just need to stop inviting the council. Just have a night with us and a few others, like Lust and Outer.”

“That would be better,” Dream admits, thinking it over, but he shakes his head. “But the council would throw a riot if we stopped inviting them.”

They all sigh and sit in silence for a minute.

“So, who gave you the present?” Ink asks, changing the subject. He rests his chin on his hands and grins. “A secret lover, perhaps?”

Dream scrunches up his face and shakes his head. “No. Just a friend.” He tilts his head, pointing to the present beside Ink. “What about you?”

Ink shrugs, smiling. “Early Giftmas present from a friend.”

Dream lowers his hand, humming to himself. Glancing at the present, he can see a few balls of yarn and a pair of knitting needles, and a small doll version of his friend sticks its head out from behind the red ball. Another arm, this one black with a blue string wrapped around it jokes out bedside it. A letter rests on the side, and some of the letters on the page are just visible. This makes him pause a bit, recalling seeing the letters before among a few other versions of the dolls in the brief moments he’s been to the Anti-Void and seen it in a portal behind Error.

Error, the Destroyer. Error, who gave Ink an early Giftmas present.

He looks over and meets Blue’s eyes, who just gives him a knowing smile, and after a moment, he smiles back. Any concern he might’ve had is swept away as he imagines his friend and Error doing the same things his brother and he does every year for their birthday. He would be a hypocrite, kind of, to be worried about his friend meeting his enemy when he does the same thing.

Besides, it was Giftmas in just a few more days. Who says enemies can’t be friends for one day?

~oOo~

He folds up his cape and drapes it over the chair to his desk in his room. Dream takes off his gloves and does the same thing, changing into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt Ink had made for him. Turning on his desk light, he sits down in the dim light and pulls the gift bag into his lap.

First things first: the letter.

Carefully pulling it off, he flips it over, his smile widening as he runs his fingers over the wax seal, a purple thing with an engraving of a crescent moon painted gold, holding the letter closed. His brother was so dramatic sometimes, using wax to seal a letter like some old-fashioned librarian. Then again, that was what he once wanted to be, so maybe this was just him achieving his dreams. It did feel like something more important than a letter for a birthday present, in any case. Opening a drawer, he grabs his letter opener and cuts the letter open, unfolding the paper to read it.

Dear Dream,

Happy birthday. Things have been busy for me this year, just as much as they have been for you, I’m sure. My boys are as hectic as ever and I can tell that Ink is still the same chaotic Creator he’s always been. Though, I do hope you are handling him better than I am handling the boys—I don’t think I’ve had a full night’s sleep in months.

Nonetheless, I did find time to get you your present. As always. This year, I went for a more expensive brand, as I remembered that last time you disliked the sweetness of the cheaper brand of wine I bought you. This one was recommended by me for its more bitter taste, described by the seller as ‘an acquired taste for only the best kind of people’. I think they were a bit biased, though, and wrong. After all, who in their right mind actually seeks out bitter-tasting things?

Ah. That’s right. You do. My point still stands, as you are lovingly special in your opinions. As wrong as they are…

I have also included something special for you. Please be careful with it. I paid good gold for it to be made, so if you break it before the year is over, I will know and I will hunt you down again and finally kill you once and for all. Okay? And as per usual, I’ve included a book I think you would enjoy. You’re very lucky to be given it. I think the copy in my library was the only remaining version of this edition.

I’ve spoiled you far too much this year already, so I will end things here. I wish you well, hope you have a good Giftmas, and everything else I’m supposed to say.

Write to you next year.

With as much hate as possible,

Nightmare.

Still chuckling, Dream sets the letter aside in the box full of the other ones from other years that sits underneath his desk. Then, he reaches into the bag and pulls out the bottle of wine, setting it aside to bring downstairs with him later. He flips through the book, reading the dedication and description and finding himself interested in it. Of course he would be, Nighty was good at knowing what books he’d like. He pulls out the small long box, a blue felt thing, and sets the now empty bag on the floor.

Curious and excited, he opens the box and gasps at its contents.

Pulling it out, he holds the thing reverently, turning it over slowly to look at all the details. It’s a small dagger, about the size of his forearm, and it’s a beautiful thing, more so for decoration than fighting, with all those golden leaves as accents and the engraving of a tree on the blade itself. There’s a small purple gem inside the handle, too, paired with a yellow one, both in the shape of an apple. And his name is engraved on the handle among the leaves and branches in small lettering. It’s so pretty, and the fact that Nighty got it made specifically for him almost makes him cry.

He sniffs and blinks away the blurriness, something wet slipping down his cheek.

Scratch that, then. It did make him cry.

He sets it on top of the box and sets it by his bed, right next to a picture of him and his brother from before the incident he had saved, the creased and ripped thing now framed in a simple brown wooden frame. Picking the picture up, he looks at it silently for a minute, before looking out his window, at the barely visible sunset and the few stars coming out of hiding. Clutching the picture to his chest, he closes his eyes.

“Dream!” Blue calls from the living room. “We’re ready to start the movie!”

“Coming!” Dream calls back, not moving.

He inhales and makes his wish as hard as possible, standing in place for a few minutes to ensure it was heard. It’s something he always wishes for, and he’s quite certain it works because it’s been granted every year. Once he’s sure, he opens his eyes and searches for the star, watching as it twinkles brightly for a minute.

I wish things continue to get better. I wish we stay friends for as long as possible. And I wish the best for my brother and his family, because for all his faults and actions, he is my brother, and that is all that matters. I wish this lasts.

I wish.

[coolcatjimmy]

Im starting to hate myself again

I used to hate myself so much in middle school, but I have change a lot since then. For one I started to care a lot less about what people thought about me and I changed how I viewed myself. I actually loved myself, I liked the way my body looked, and I didn't cared about being neurodivergent as much as I did and I was so much more confident. And That lasted over almost the entirety of high school, there's been a couple a points in that time that I hit rock bottom but I was able to bounce back from it all. But lately (im now a hs senior about to graduate in like two weeks) I've been hating myself, mostly my body and how I'm a bit overweight and how I'm neurodivergent. I'm overweightand it shows and I didnt cared about it but now i feel like I have too lose weight, and i just feel like no one can like my body, and as a single person who hopes to to start dating, it's really been afecting me. I just cant look in the mirror without think how i have to lose wight. Not to mention that my mom has been loesing weight and shes doing a good job at it as well. Shes visualy thiner an good for her (shes doing it for health reasons) and dont get me wrong I hope she keeps doing well, but its making me feel like I have to lose weight as well. and my little brother has beein getting visualy strong and they both look so good. I feel like im beeing left behind, an i just want to look as good as them as well. i dont know and i feel as though if i do start working out or stop eating ill stay the same, i mean ive been looking like this since forever now, i feel like i cant change, an it frustrates me. i also hate my hair and my body odor. What eles has been frusterating me is my brain, i have a processing disorder and memory problem and i suspect i also ah an auditory processing disorder and adhd. Its hard to understand people or really anything i feel like im annoying and yelling and ive just been feeling stupid lately. and it dosnt help that im a horribly procrastinator and it really affects my school work, and ever since covid it feels like my work ethic has been getting worse. Like ive lived like this all of my life but before covid i had a better workethic and i just dont know what to do anymore. it feels like im doomed to stay like this and never doing anything good. and it sucks because i used to not care but now i do. i know all of this is not my fault but i still really hate myself. i wanna cry about it but i dont feel comfortable crying or talking about it with my friends or family. i hate myself my body and brain and i dont know what to do about it. all i do is distract myself but i dont think its working anymore

[capstoneyap]

Week 2, Sept 18 2024: Control

Make (draw)

Control is so easily lost. Control over one’s self is so hard to achieve. To get your body to do something while your mind won’t let you can be torturous. I should know. I go through with it every day. I procrastinate. I don’t mean to. I really don’t. I don’t like the feeling of stressing about the work I have to do while my body and mind won’t let me. They relinquish my control. My want to get stuff done early at the worst times. Leaving me stressed. All I can do is joke about it. Blame it on being lazy or even my ADHD. Jokes are the only means of control I feel like I have over my own mind. Completing other tasks that aren’t important in the moment make me feel more in control. But in the end, I lose control. I always do. I could blame myself. I do blame myself. If only I could have done stuff sooner. If only I hadn’t played that video game all day. If only I hadn’t doom scrolled my phone. If only I hadn’t continued writing pointless stories. If only I wasn’t constantly stuck in my own head. Maybe it is my fault. I’m not sure. I’m not sure if my ADHD is a good enough reason. Maybe it’s both my fault and the fault of something I cannot control. But that’s a paradox, is it not? I’m not sure. I’m not really sure of anything, in all honesty. But I think what saddens me the most was how good I felt like I was doing. I got stuff done early when school started. I was able to complete simple tasks until this week. I slipped. I fell a bit behind. It's disappointing. It's upsetting. Almost like a relapse. I guess this is what it is. This constant cycle of procrastination until you start doing well only to fall once again. Almost like an addiction. But what is that addiction? Procrastination itself? Or the elements that help me procrastinate? My phone? My gaming consoles? My writing? The worlds I like to go to in my head? Are all of them addictive substances? If so, how do I get clean? My phone, I can get rid of maybe. Set a timer. Delete apps I don't need. My consoles, I can also get rid of. My writing and daydreaming, I can just stop, but that's easier said than done. How do I get completely clean when the substance is my own head? Medicine? I honestly rather not. I heard not so good things about it. I don't want to lose control more than I already have. It’s a catch 22 or however the saying goes. Do I want the kind of loss of control to be my own head? Or do I want to risk losing control via medicine making me a zombie? For once, i'm sure of what to do. I don’t like taking medicine. It's a toxic trait of mine. If I believe I can power through it without medicine, I will. Besides, swallowing pills is tough. But I guess that's another way of having some control. A bad way but a way. 

(If you made it to the end of this, sorry for the ramble. I wanted to try something for this topic. While Control is the topic, the idea of loss of control seems more fitting for what I'm now curious about. The loss of control displayed through my little vent post, as I had decided to use the moment I was spiraling a little to write out my stuff. I wanted to see where this idea would take me if I…..well….let myself lose that said control a little. I wonder if I can somehow expand this a little.)

[wanderrlust0]

sudden rant turned spiral lol oops

my friend got tickets to see hozier aka andrew their wife and basically got them for us since i said id be down to go. personally im not like a fan where id go see him but id say im a casual listener. like i knew a good amount of songs. i loveee cherry wine and others. now that we have this concert coming up on june 7, ive become a listener. i gotta prepare and all that yknow. cant go to andrew unprepared. also..idk how?! but i was not aware of his thick irish accent.. loll and i mean, even in his new album, he sings with a clear accent?? idk how i never noticed before honestly. so yeah, im curious to know what a hozier concert will be liikeeee. this will be my second concert this yr and they both involve me going bc a friend asked me to go for company lol. i am going to another in august w my bf to see porter robinson and thats actually one i will really enjoy!! itll also be our first like “edm” dance music type concert so itll be so cool. its at the same stadium that hozier will be at as welllll..but you see, what im procrastinating is telling my bf im going w my friend. my friend who hes not a fan of. the one who he thinks is a Threat! D: ive been knowing for likee 2 weeksish and havent said a single word about it agdjfkfl but i am calling it now.. i. will. tell. him. tomorrow. period. no ifs ands or buts. i need to stop worrying and just rip the bandaid off. once i do tho, im still gonna feel anxious bc literally The NEXt WEEk we will most likely go to my (ex)coworkers second party. (the one who threw a halloween party and i didnt know if wed go but we were already hanging out that day so i mentioned it prior and we ended up having enough time and the girls house was very close to me so we ended up dropping by and i told elias right then and there so it was very last minute and kind of fucked up of me but ive developed an avoidance thing towards him if it has to do with snow bc of everything and thats why now i cant help myself from feeling nervous to ever bring them up around him bc im scared he’ll revert back and not love me and start resenting me and leave me and be mean to me and make me feel lonely and accuse me of things and say its my fault i started the friendship in the first place and that im not committed to him and dont love him anymore and everything else under the sun bc hes got trust issues which is a pain and he’ll go from loving me so hard to not in a quick minute if he starts thinking the worst possibilities and i just cant handle all of that and tbh its nothing new so ive grown to understand the process and that itll pass but it really does suckk and it can turn into a turn off and then he becomes emotionally unavailable and then i become emotionally annoyed and then its a constant reoccurring cycle that doesnt always look the same but they follow the same theme which is trust and every time it happens i want to shout at his ex for causing him to develop this issue and this is me spiraling right now bc im nervous and to be crystal clear its not bc im doing anything shady at all or anything with this friend but i just wanna feel the freedom to just casually hang out with them without it feeling so taboo or whatever bc we still have so many plans that wed like to do and idk if he will ever be okay with me going to their house and idk when he’ll ever get better where he wont care how many times we hang out or how often we talk and i just want him to chill about them bc theyre not a bad person at all theyre not this homewrecker girlfriend stealer he makes it out to beeee were literally just existinggg were literally just two friends who enjoy each others company and existence and have become very open and genuine with fairly quickly and we somehow just connected and i truly do love them as a friend and im happy weve crossed paths and stayed in touch and its just something he cant and wont fully understand about us but hes been trying to at least a little but is mainly just dealing with it bc he knows he cant stop me and im not gonna stop my friendship bc hes telling me to so,

…continued…

[zeciex]

hiii!!! so uhm honestly... A Vow of Blood is the GOAT likeeeee I can't even read other fics now because my standards became so highhhhh it's your fault now 😠 jk HAHAHAHAHAHA This is not even a question but more on an appreciation huhu YOUR UPDATES HAS BECOME MY MOTIVATION EVERY WEEK!! in the froday morning I am like "ugh I should finish all my homeworks so that I can read peacefully 😣" LIKE YOUR FIC HAS BECOME MY REASON NOT TO PROCRASTINATE HEHEHEHEHEHE THANK YOU!!!

I'm blushing so hard right now!!!

Hell, I look forward to each friday too so that I can post! I work on this every day, so it's good to know that people appreciate/love/enjoy my hard work because sometimes it is truly blood, sweat and tears.