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littlemissmentallyunstable · 5 months ago

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bella PLEWSDE WRITE A GRAYSON HAWTHORNE BLURB OR WHAYEVER WITH READER WITH LOW IRON AND LIKE SHE ALMOST FAINTS BECAUSE THERES LITERALLY ZERO. ZERO FICS THAY HAVE THE READER WITH LOW IRON SO PPELAPSPESLLEPWDLEEL

AHHHHHH BELLE LET ME JUST BEGIN WITH AN APOLOGY BECAUSE I AM SO SO SO SO SORRY THIS FIC HAS TAKEN ME THREE BILLION YEARS TO GET AROUND TO WRITING!! THANK YOU FOR YOU REQUEST AND I PRAYYYY THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED…. (if not I will redo)

title: I’m fine

pairing: grayson hawthorne x reader

synopsis: a story where ‘I’m fine’ means ‘I’m totally not fine but I’m not going to admit that’

warnings: dizziness, fainting

a/n: dedicating this to the beautiful @midiosaamor 💖💖 ily <33

taglist: @lovethornes @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @fleuriosa @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31 @loveinalocket @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast @eternal--dream @shattered-glass-roses @book-nerd-emi @peppapigsposts @foreverwinter22

It only started as a headache, not bad enough to be classed as a migraine but bad enough to be considered more than your average headache. Still, I carried on typing the words out on my computer, my brain pulsating in pain.

I didn’t have time to rest off a headache, there was too much to do. I’d only started working four hours ago and if I didn’t get this done by tonight then my boss would not be happy. I mean it wasn’t exactly my fault she decided set me an assignment with a deadline on the same day but still, I had to work it all out and push through.

The tasks seemed endless, I typed word after word, in a state of not really registering what I was writing, just making the robotic movements to write. Clicking the keys and forming coherent sentences without anything being properly processed. It wasn’t unusual, I was used to my brain working faster than my body sometimes.

Still, my head throbbed on. For a second, I stopped the incessant tapping on my keyboard and pressed two fingertips softly to each temple. My hands were ice cold. I breathed in and out deeply a few times with my eyes shut before beginning to work again, praying a tiny reset would be what I needed. I knew I was lying to myself, I knew it would take more than that to soothe any pain but I carried on like I didn’t.

“Are you alright?”

As small gasp escaped my lips as I looked up to see Grayson standing in the doorframe, one hand at the top taking most of his weight. I wondered how long he’d been stood there and I hadn’t noticed.

“Mmmm,” I hummed in reply, going back to finish the sentence I was typing before I lost my train of thought. Then I looked back up at him again, “why?”

He walked in slowly looking at my face intently, “you look a little pale.”

He took my face into his palms and rubbed my cheek with his thumb. Small, gentle, long strokes, that made me lean into him further. I wanted to just curl up in his arms and sleep, but my work clearly had other ideas.

“Just a headache,” I brushed it off, pulling away from his touch reluctantly, “is there any aspirin?”

“There is,” he nodded slowly, his eyebrows pinching together in concern, “but I really think you ought to lay down if it’s this bad.”

“I don’t need to,” I shook my head stubbornly, standing up to look him dead in the eye, “I’m fine.”

What a lie.

“You don’t look fine,” he told me softly, the anxiety rippling across his perfected features. His hands curved around the small of my back and I tried to enjoy it instead of thinking about the throbbing of my head.

So despite my ache, I smiled, “well I feel fine.”

Sometimes I lied so easily and so well it worried me. I shouldn’t be this good at something so cruel. But maybe more than him, I was lying to myself to convince a part of me that I wasn’t as feeling as bad as I thought I felt.

Grayson gave me another worried glance, thumb running up and down the base of my spine rhythmically, the softness of his touch sending a chill through it.

“Have you eaten today?” he asked me, the tingling up my back dying down.

“Earlier,” I nodded, my eyes flicking the time in the bottom corner of my screen realising my ‘earlier’ actually meant six hours ago. On cue, my stomach seized in a hungry protest, sending a tight knot like sensation across my abdomen. I prayed it wouldn’t grumble, betraying my lies to Gray.

“I haven’t seen you eat or-“

“Stop the fussing,” I grinned to bear it, “I’m fine, just need a tablet and some water.”

“Maybe lay off the work then,” he suggested, cocking his head towards my computer screen.

“Grayson I need to get this done,” I sighed gently, “a little headache can’t stop me.”

“Okay…” he said unsurely, hesitating for a few seconds.

“Stop worrying,” I forced a laugh through my searing brain, glancing up at him and looking through those truth-reeling gray eyes.

“I’m not,” his right hand twitches at my side. Liar. “Sit down and I’ll go and get you the aspirin, okay?”

“Okay then,” I nodded, sitting down. Another chill ran through my spine, though this time it was because of the empty place left where his hands had just been.

I took a few more deep breaths, feeling a little out of it all of a sudden. It was like I was in the room but I wasn’t at the same time. I closed my eyes and let the weight of my skull fall into my palms, breathing even deeper, heavier.

I let myself hang, like a lifeless marionette forgotten by her puppeteer, everything leaden and dopey. When I heard Grayson coming back and quickly opened my eyes and sat up a little bit straighter. If he saw me like that he’d get stressed and that’s the last he needed. It was only a headache after all.

Just a really bad headache.

“Thank you,” I kissed him on the cheek as he passed me the aspirin pill and a glass of water.

He cupped my face in his hands, “you promise me you’re fine?”

“I promise promise promise you,” I whispered, feigning another smile. My jaw was starting to ache. I don’t know it’s it from the guilt of lying or the forceful action of smiling or maybe it was just the headache transferring.

I took the tablet between my fingertips and put it at the back of my mouth before swallowing it quickly with water. I shivered afterwards. I hate taking tablets.

Grayson squeezed my shoulders softly, “do you want me to stay here?”

“Didn’t I just ‘promise promise promise’ you I was fine?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

He looked at me and sighed. Worry ran riot across his eyes, swirling anxious thoughts into pools of grey. How bad did I look?

“I haven’t got much work left to do, okay?” I said, “I just need to get through this.”

He took his time walking out and although I didn’t look at him I was convinced he kept looking back every through steps to check on me. Finally he left and I downed the glass of water.

I sat still for a moment, analysing how I felt. I didn’t think it was possible but my head had worsened. I internally groaned as dread filled my body. It wasn’t supposed to worsen. I prayed the tablet would kick in, after all I hadn’t really given it a chance.

I took a long breath out and continued tapping away at the keypad. After a while the continuous clicking and clacking was beginning to irritate me. Like an itch I couldn’t quite scratch. My already pounding head felt pounded with the small noises over and over like they were making a mockery of it. Still I continued, there wasn’t much left now and if I could just finish it l, all would be okay.

After about a billion spell checks - seriously why does psychology have a ‘p’ and ‘h’ in it, it’s so irrelevant - I thought I might be ready to finish when I realised I’d missed a whole section.

By now my head was almost unbearable. Torturous agony was creeping up behind my eye now as well as the front of my head. A whole section felt like it would be the death of me. And I’d noticed something weirdly unnatural about my breathing. Every breath in didn’t feel like enough oxygen. So I began to breathe more deeply and when that wasn’t working, more quickly.

That only fuelled my rising panic about the weird nature of these symptoms. They were familiar. Why couldn’t I breathe normally? What was wrong? Maybe it was more than a headache? Questions raced through my head faster than it had time to process them all.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

My head pounded on and like the idiot that I am, I carried on writing. My vision blurred out for a fraction of a second then cleared shortly after. I rubbed my eyes. It was just the screen. Just the screen.

It happened a few more times, so I cleaned my glasses with the bottom of my jumper for good measure. More notes, more notes, more notes, more notes. I quickly hit save in the document for fear if my computer crashed I would lose it all. I sighed as I then went to drink from my water glass only to realise it was empty.

“Gray!” I yelled, “could you grab me another glass of water please?”

I barely registered his reply, my only focus being the stupid piece of work. ‘I can last a little longer’ I repeated over and over in my mind. Until I was bored. Until I was delirious. Until I was too brain dead to care.

I could hear Grayson approaching so got up to meet him at the door. I wanted a ten second break from staring straight at the glowing screen. Suddenly, mid step, I stumbled. Straight away Grayson had one hand around the small of my back gripping tightly and the another on my upper arm, steadying me. I try to laugh it off as a I mistake but even that sounded weak.

“Woah sweetheart,” he said, his hold firmer as he set me straight, “what’s going on?”

“I’m fine,” I shrugged, trying to get back to my chair, my legs feeling too much like jelly for my liking.

I could see he didn’t believe me completely, he didn’t have to say a word. Grayson, instead, took me in his arms. I couldn’t ask to sit down after that, then I’d be admitting that something was wrong. So I stayed standing, my body against his. The only thing holding me up was him.

He looked at me, tender eyed and consumed with concern, “you’re clearly not my love.”

“Gray, I just tripped,” I said smoothly, praying he’d let me twist the truth as I tried to stop my legs from shaking.

“Don’t lie to me,” he murmured in a low voice, curling his other arm around my waist for support.

“I’m not lying,” I shrugged, continuing to be in denial as I gripped to his shirt so tightly my knuckles went white, “I’m fine.”

As soon as the words left my lips everything spun. I closed my eyes and pressed my head against his chest, hoping it would all just go away. My feet swayed a little and panic seized my throat at the unsteadiness. I made a choked sound, halfway between a gasp and a silent scream.

“It’s okay,” Grayson whispered softly, “I’ve got you.” He brought a hand up through the back of my hair and gently held onto the back of my head to steady it.

“Dizzy,” I murmured into him, my voice slurred and slowed. I felt so out of it.

We stayed like that for I don’t know how long. My concept of time was as hazy as my vision. I just remembered staying very still, Grayson’s hands not leaving my body and how hard my forehead was pressed against him.

After a while, I tried to stand back on my own, thinking the dizzy spell was over but as soon as I did the room became a whirlpool of colours and blob-ish shapes. I felt myself lose my footing completely and before I knew it was falling backwards.

Strong arms tensed around my torso and quickly caught me, “oh sweetheart,” I heard Grayson say as he safely lowered me to the ground.

My legs became lifeless pieces of flesh, heavy as led but weak as a flimsy childhood doll. My head felt heavy in his lap as it pounded on. I sewed my eyes shut, it helped a little with the dizziness. His cold fingers tentatively touched my forehead and I leant into them ever so slightly with what energy I had left.

“I’m going to carry you to bed,” he told me gently, as I felt one arm around my back and the other under my legs.

“But my work-“ I groaned, feeling a little nauseated from the dizziness.

He held me tightly, “no sweetheart, forget about work, you need to rest.”

I didn’t reply and instead feebly gripped my deadened limbs around his neck and prayed for all of this to just go away.

“Gray,” I murmured into his chest.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not fine,” I said, somewhere between a sob and mumble.

“I know sweetheart,” he whispered, pressing a shaky kiss on my temple, “I know.”

He scooped me into his arms and carried me to the bedroom, laying me on the bed, before tucking me under the covers. Not letting go of my hand, that gripped him so tightly I don’t know how he didn’t complain. I heard him dialling a number.

“Who are you calling?” I slurred.

“Someone to come and help you,” he responded swiftly.

“Mhmm,” I could only muster in response.

His thumb rubbed circles up and down my hand, “I’m going to stay right here okay?” he comforted, “can you still hear me?”

“Don’t go,” I whispered, feeling quite pathetic but not self-conscience enough to care.

“No I’m staying sweetheart,” he squeezed my palm in his, “I’m staying.”

My eyes fluttered open as my head lazily lolled to one side, “I’m dizzy,” I groaned, not remembering if I’d mentioned already.

“I know,” Grayson whispered, a hand pushing my hair out of the way, “I know.”

“Can I rest my eyes?” I asked him, closing them anyway.

“No, you can’t go to sleep,” he told me.

“No just rest my eyes…” I trailed off, pausing for a long while, my train of thought wavering, “…to stop the spinning.”

“Squeeze my hand every three seconds then,” he said, “so I know you’re awake.”

“Deal,” I barely managed to whisper before I felt the need to increase my breathing rate. It felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen in my system.

I squeezed his hand every three seconds, just about keeping track of the numbers. But with every squeeze I could feel myself growing weaker and weaker, like all of my energy was being drained slowly and mercilessly. The only thing that kept me from closing my eyes was Grayson’s gentle touches. His soft fingertips trailing over my face, tracing the contours or drawing spirals on my upper arms and neck.

I opened my eyes for a moment, when the darkness was just as bad as the light, when I felt dizzy no matter whether my eyes were closed or open. Things blurred and cleared, darkened and became normal again over and over and over. Until, a piercing ringing coursed through my ears and everything other sound seemed to be submerged under water. I knew what that meant I was close to.

“Gray,” I murmured shakily.

“Yes?”

“I’m going to pass out,” I told him, a single tear trailing its way down my cheek, “I can feel it.”

I knew the signs well enough and every sign was pointing that way.

“It’s okay,” he said, positioning himself behind me, so my back was pressed against his torso and he could support my head, “I’ve got you.”

“I don’t want to pass out,” I sobbed, black spots dancing across my vision in mockery.

The worst part is always before you passed out because when you’re out you feel and remember nothing. But before, you know what’s coming and you know you can’t stop it.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he mumbled into my hair, slowly, comfortingly, “you’re safe, if you need to pass out, you can and your body will, whether you like it or not.”

My hands were shaking, fingers rocking back and forth, bumping into one another clumsily, “I’m scared,” I said between uneven breaths.

I grabbed Grayson’s forearm to attempt to still them, my fingers so brutally desperate in their clinging that they constricted his blood flow. No matter how many times I’d passed out,, I always felt just as scared.

“You don’t need to be scared,” he soothed gently, “I’ve got you, I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.”

“You promise,” I panted, looking up at him, chest rising up and down harshly.

“I promise,” he leant down and planted a sweet of kiss on my nose.

I kept looking up, until his gray eyes clouded with dark spots, until calm expression replaced with an endless see of nothingness, until the whisperings of sweet words ceased. My breathing was heavy, growing heavier by the second and then… then there was black.

***

I felt thick and heavy with drowsiness. My body felt so weighted it ached. My back was against the mattress, my head flat on the pillow, I was anchored to my bed. The covers had been adjusted to just under my neck and I could feel someone’s hand in mine.

I winced as I opened my eyes, the light attacking them too viciously. Immediately Grayson dimmed it down, holding my cheek tentatively in his palm.

“Hey sweetheart,” he whispered, kissing my forehead.

“Gray?”

He traced a soft thumb over the bone where my eyebrow sat as he asked, “how are you feeling?”

“Tired,” I mumbled, stifling a yawn.

“Here,” he said gently, “have some water.”

Slowly he helped me prop myself up, his hand pressed up against my back, the other tipping the glass towards my lips. I swallowed, the water feeling odd against the dryness of my throat.

“How long was I out for?” I coughed.

“Only a bit,” he said, laying me back down, “the doctors have come and gone, they say you’ll be okay with some rest.”

“Why did I pass out?” I asked tiredly, “do they know?”

“You hadn’t taken your iron tablets in three days,” Grayson explained, cocking his head towards my table.

I glanced to my bedside and gasped. Three days worth of unconsumed tablets sat there. I never usually forgot, one day maybe but three whole days. That was unheard of. Guilt permeated me, all the stress I’d probably put Grayson under could’ve been entirely prevented.

“I must’ve forgotten,” I sighed leaning deeper into my pillow, “work has just been so hectic lately and-“

“Hey, hey, hey, I didn’t tell you to worry you, I told you so you wouldn’t overthink what was wrong,” he said softly, “but it’s okay, you’re okay, that’s all that matters.”

“But it’s not okay because it’s all my fault,” I bursted into tears, the shock wave of random emotion leaving me senseless, “I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you I wasn’t fine and then I just passed out and that probably really stressed you out and I could’ve stopped all of that if I’d just taken the stupid tablets.”

“Sweetheart,” he pressed a palm flat on my chest, “breathe, it’s okay.”

His voice was the constant in my current of chaotic overthinking. This had happened before many times, my low iron deficiency had always been an issue, but even the very first time I’d passed out he was so much calmer than I’d expected.

He kept calm for me.

“God I feel like an idiot,” I choked out a pathetic laugh, wiping my eyes roughly with the back of my hand.

“You’re not an idiot, love,” he soothed, taking my hand gently into his and replacing with with the pad of his thumb, as he gently wiped away the tears that were left, “it happens.”

“It shouldn’t happen,” I shook my head defiantly.

I don’t forget things. I never forget things.

“Hey,” Grayson said, “look at me, you’re fine, I’m fine and that’s all that’s important.”

He held my face in his palms and looked at me like I meant the world.

“I’m sorry,” I let the weight of my head fall into his hands, taking the ache from my neck.

“Don’t apologise,” he said, “there’s no need for you to, just relax.”

I closed my eyes, his palm warm and comforting against my cheek. His fingers found their way to the top of my head, soothingly running through my hair over my scalp.

“Do you want me to get in with you?” he asked.

I nodded sleepily and watched as he slipped into the bed beside me. I was quick to snuggle close, intertwining my legs with his and burying my face into his chest. I inhaled and exhaled slowly.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he whispered in a low voice in my ear as his arms curved around my waist.

“Tired,” I mumbled.

“It’s okay,” he ushered, “you can go to sleep.”

“What if you go?” I asked, like a child.

“I won’t, I promise,” Grayson said, “I’ll stay here with you.”

I smiled to myself, and squeezed his arm, “I love you,” I murmured, “so much.”

“I love you too sweetheart,” he planted a kiss on the top of my head, “more than this world. Get some rest now.”

So I shut my eyes and fell longingly into sleep’s arms.

a/n: hope you enjoyed guys, sorry I haven’t posted much 💖💖

TIG masterlist

#bella writes 🤍#the inheritance games #tig #grayson hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #the final gambit #the hawthorne legacy #jameson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne one shot #grayson hawthorne x you #grayson hawthorne x reader #grayson davenport hawthorne #grayson x reader #tgg #jennifer lynn barnes #jameson winchester hawthorne

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moniericreative · 9 months ago

Text

Joker and Neurodivergency: The Very Long ADHD Yappathon

So this is mostly just an excuse to ramble, project, and headcanon.

But the longer I've been working on my Dialogue Compilation Project... The more I've gradually started to notice bits about Joker as a character that hit pretty close to experiences I've also dealt with as someone neurodivergent, specifically someone with inattentive ADHD.

So how about we delve into it?

So as a foreward to describe the explanation process: What exactly is Inattentive ADHD?

Inattentive ADHD is a type of ADHD where children have a hard time paying attention but don’t necessarily exhibit hyperactive behavior.

In simpler terms, it's more of an internal hyperactivity. Like your brain or emotional regulation are constantly unrestrained. For instance: - Your thoughts tend to get scattered - Your short-term memory's spotty (i.e. you may struggle to repeat back something you were just told a few seconds ago) - You tend to dissassociate out of the blue due to a lack of stimulation - Your emotions might go 0-to-100 where it may be "nothing" or "suddenly everything at once" depending on what's going on (especially with external stimulants like crowds or sudden noises) - Etcetera.

And because of that lack of internal structure, it's difficult to: - Maintain habits or time awareness for some folks - Bodily queues like hunger or sleep simply don't register unless in extremes (like a low blood sugar, hunger shakes, or overall sleep deprivation crapiness).

And that's not even getting into the executive dysfunction or auditory processing issues... Hoo boy... 💪🥲

There's a wide variety of symptoms for each individual, nobody's the same. Heck some of these are experiences someone else might not even have, either.

Some of them even overlap with autism as well (and some folks might have both), but out of respect as someone who isn't autistic, I'll personally refrain from discussing about it here to avoid accidental stereotyping (but feel free to add to this with personal anecdotes if you like!). Mostly just going off my own experiences with ADHD.

So how exactly does any of this apply to Joker?

Well, some of the oh-so-fun things about being ADHD is:

- Needing consistent reminders for tasks

- Executive Dysfunction (especially when things go wrong or you feel like crap)

- Being able to Hyperfocus (i.e. "being in the zone" to a degree that you tune everything else out including the time spent on the task).

We know based on the Persona series' time-slot system that typically, Joker will spend hours doing a single task and only that task. There's no multitasking or anything. He is focused solely on whatever he starts doing, be it studying, making tools, training, etcetera.

(There's also smaller moments like the P5 Anime as well, where he'll actually get mildly frustrated with anyone that distracts him from a task he's focusing on. Specifically Akechi when he keeps trying to have a conversation with him while he's concentrating on using a pour-over. Or he's shown getting frustrated by an ever-increasing list of tasks in Mementos Mission:)

That sounds about normal for anyone though, right?

Well, here's the thing.

He usually doesn't stop until Morgana suggests he should.

This is different from previous Persona protagonists like Yu or Makoto/Kotone because they don't have someone like Morgana constantly reminding them that they've done plenty of work, or that they should head to bed. They just do it themselves.

On top of that, while party members (both from P5 itself and prior games) will occasionally remind you to "do [blank] by a certain date," Morgana's the one character that will consistently remind Joker (and you) several times in a single day, ranging from maybe a line or two, to three/four different ones every day the week before the deadline.

The one time Morgana's not present do this?

No afternoon or evening events to work on, Joker's just so damn miserable without his close friend that he holes himself up in Leblanc's Attic and does nothing for two days straight. Not even in said attic, it's standing around missing Morgana or going to sleep. Good 'ol depressed-flavoured executive dysfunction if ever I've felt one. 🥲

And on top of the "reminders" bit... Joker's also the only protag who has handwritten notes about events in the game on top of the Calendar Menu's summary too (courtesy of the notebook Sojiro gives him). Sometimes the date in the menu itself will be blank, but Joker will have these written down anyways:

Which is something that's often super helpful for ADHD folks when recalling our long-term memories (one of our bigger strengths), as specific details like these can help us piece the entire situation back together even if it was months/years ago.

(Good thing too in his case especially, considering the Interrogation Room plan hinged on him remembering everything)

So that's surely it, right?

NOPE.

There's another very important detail about Joker that's gets heavily underlooked:

Now we already know some key bits in regards to this information:

Sojiro absolutely doesn't starve him, and in fact he's not only willing to feed Joker on his way out the door, but he's also willing to teach him how to make Leblanc's food too.

And we also that eventually culminates in Strikers as a beloved game mechanic: Joker's Kitchen, which Joker does entirely of his own volition.

It's probably safe to say that he at least doesn't have a food aversion. I mean come on, he's got endless pockets full of random crap from vending machines, some of which sound absolutely inhumane. Or he's at a clinic guzzling random drugs with reckless abandon like the unhinged weirdo he is.

But with the above context that he has a tendency to lose track of time without Morgana's input, it adds a layer to this line that makes a lot of sense. Between being distracted by a task, and sometimes not having "hunger signals" at all, a lot of us tend to not even realize we've been starving all day. It's usually a state of "normal" nothing until oops it's Sudden Hunger Shakes O'Clock.

Which can also develop into just generally eating small portions of food as well, because again, we tend to "not feel hungry" unless it's extreme, and that can really affect our degree of appetite/intake.

Or in other cases, including my own and probably Joker's too until Strikers, there's a lack of general interest in food as a whole too. It's yet another time management task that you have to remember to do, every few hours, every single day, every single week, every single month, every single year. So you'll probably grab anything just so long as it's filling enough to get you by for the day. (Unless you have food aversion... Godspeed us all in finding filling safe foods that don't suddenly change and make us hurl 🫡💦). It's necessary of course, but there's a tedium to it sometimes regardless of the meal that you really have to fight with just to keep living.

Sumi gag aside, come on. Look at the sheer difference. That bun's smaller than Morgana's head and it's the barest minimum snack you can find anywhere.

"But what about the Big Bang Burger Challenge?" Come on man, we all know he's not doing it for the sake of eating. He's doing it to get smarter and prettier and kinder. The power of processed junk food filled with microplastics and employee tears I guess.

Distractability and focusing on a particular interest.

Obviously we don't go "SQUIRREL" at the drop of a hat like an excitable dog (despite how often people like to use that stereotype). But for some of us, our minds do tend to flitter around a bit in search of something to stimulate our brains.

Kinda like a zoo animal pacing around an enclosure, except it's our squishy brain trapped in a cage of bone and too little dopamine. 🫠

And in the abscence of something to work on or talk about, that can range from zoning out in classes/discussions (which Joker does a lot) to dissociate the boredom away (which ironically most people tend to see as "endless patience," if only they knew...), or looking for things to work on or talk about (which he... also tends to do a lot, depending on how much of the maps you explore).

And in Joker's case specifically, a lot of that tends to end up with him sticking his nose into situations that benefits the specific thing that gives him a purpose/drive (being a Phantom Thief), but are absolutely not normal things a teenager should be getting into.

Like dealing with the Yakuza. Or being the fake boyfriend of a drunk woman. Or paying his homeroom teacher to be a maid for him. Or a homoerotic shoot-out (... well, three separate times actually if you count an arcade game) with another teenage weirdo. Or T-Posing in a church to understand The Passion Of The Christ. Or unholy amounts of burger-eating to raise his "social stats."

He's willing to get into all kinds of mischief if it helps the Phantom Thieves. If it doesn't, then he's not particularly interested in starting anything with someone. More often than not, it takes Morgana mentioning how someone's services or skills "could help the thieves" to get Joker to be interested in them.

Or the person being especially pushy for him to cave in Maruki's case, to which Joker will make the same rationalization instead despite his initial pushback:

He's so dedicated to being a Phantom Thief that it's equal parts inspiring, relatable, hysterical, and sad to watch.

Especially since at the end of almost every single confidant (bar the party members', and Akechi's and Maruki's who both peg him as a thief pretty quickly through happenstance), every single one of them find out he's a Phantom Thief on their own. Because this poor boy is so tunnel-visioned on his role as "Joker" and helping people that he's about as subtle as a steel chair to the face and woefully unaware of it until it's told to him. 🥹

Lastly, NO TOUCHY.

Honestly, probably my favorite underrated bit about Joker that barely gets talked about.

Across the different P5 mediums (well, two as far as I'm aware of), there's at least one on-screen instance in each of Joker being touch-aversed whenever other people invade his personal space. Usually whenever he has physical contact with someone else (like any of the romaceable confidants, or Akechi), he's the one initiating it first.

In the P5 Anime you've got the bathouse scene between him, Ryuji, and Yusuke after Madarame's palace. In it, Ryuji jumps away from the hot water coming out of the faucet and bumps into Joker.

His response directed at Ryuji?

In English: "Please scoot back."

In Japanese (according to subs anyway): "You're making it hotter."

Both of which he says while hunched up with his shoulders to his ears and shooting Ryuji an unhappy expression.

Seriously. That is a "dead-inside and accepting reality" stare if ever I've felt one, choppy animation quality aside.

In P5 Royal meanwhile, you've got Yusuke's third awakening in Third Semester, where Joker says this when he suddenly grips his shoulders:

Both of which are basically the exact same message, just told in different ways.

... And that's not even going into how more often than not, any time we see Joker being touched on-screen by someone else, they're usually restraining or physically abusing him.

Whether you want to chalk that up to trauma from his initial arrest in the Shido Flashback, or as a ND aspect of his, is entirely up to you. Personally I'm leaning more on the latter as he usually only establishes this boundary with people he trusts (whereas he just outright avoids contact altogether around strangers), and he only breaks this boundary himself around specific people he cares about.

So with all that rambling finally done, hopefully this helps others notice some really cool bits of characterization around this loveable goofball. I won't say this a "100% accurate" interpretation of Joker as a character because everyone sees him differently. He is a self-insert after all.

But compared to the previous Persona protags (hell, even Atlus protags in general), Joker's always the one I immediately fall back to as the favorite for some reason. The coat is snazzy, he has a smirk that makes all the ladies and gay detectives weak at the knees, but... I could never really pinpoint the actual why until now.

Whether Atlus intended Joker to be neurodivergent-coded is up in the air, but there's just so many aspects about him beyond the player's control that hit really close to home, and I'm glad that he's such a popular and beloved character for the traits that make him him.

#p5 #persona 5 #gaming #nuerodivergent #adhd #p5r #persona 5 royal #persona #p5 joker #akira kurusu #ren amamiya #character analysis #video games #rambles #moni rambles

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maybeitsalivescribbles · 1 year ago

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TTD - Of hair and shadows

“Ding!”

“Mmmmphfthphf?”

That brilliant one-liner uttered, Hero threw a tired glance at the text that has startled them awake, groaned, then buried their face into the pillow. They stayed a moment like that, letting their tired brain register what they had seen, then gasped and took a second look at the phone. It was really that late. To be fair, it had been a very long time since their last day off. Yawning, they slowly went to the door and stopped on the threshold.

The living room was an absolute mess. Everything was covered with sawdust. On a carpet, in the middle of a wood shaving nest, a dark silhouette was carving what had been a broken table leg, so focused on their task they hadn't noticed them. Hero crossed their arms, staring silently. For a moment, they wondered how Villain could have done that without any noisy tool, then shrugged this off. They were getting used to this. They were more concerned about the implication that their roommate had been awake all night.

Their stomach churned a little with guilt. In a wild turning of events, it had turned out that insisting on learning about Villain and Superhero's traumatic backstory had not, in fact, made things easier at all. Who could have predicted that, except anybody with a brain?

For a moment, they considered leaving them alone, but decided against it. The text had been from the agency, and Hero knew how careful they had to be with the deadlines.

They cleared their throat:

“Hey.”

“Greetings, nemesis.”

Villain glanced at them and added:

“Disheveled nemesis.”

Hero frowned in return, but it wasn't the time to bicker.

“Look, I’m sorry to ask you that,” they said, “but the agency is updating your file. I need to take your picture.”

Villain shrugged, leaning again on their work:

“Do what you must.”

Hero bit their tongue and added as gently as they could:

“I need you out of your shadow. And you need to stop doing... whatever you’re doing for a couple of minutes.”

They waited for the answer, looking anywhere but at their interlocutor. They hated they had to ask them such a thing.

Their roommate groaned.

“May I remind you that I’m the one supposed to torture you? My nemesis you might be, but you should be the glowing light contrasting my sinful shadow, not a thorn in my side. Your excessive love for paperwork will be the end of us all.”

Hero nervously crossed their arms, looking for a comforting answer, but there was nothing good to say back. They pulled out their phone with an apologizing glance:

“Come on, it will take a minute. Put yourself against the wall. I take the picture, then I won’t bother you anymore.”

After some more protesting, Villain stood and went to the other side of the room. The shadow over their face melted, leaving their sulking in plain sight. They stared back at Hero, who had their phone raised, but didn't move. They were pondering. In fact, they pondered for so long Villain shifted uncomfortably.

“Are my smoldering orbs startling you?” they inquired.

“Your?”

“My smoldering emerald orbs that seem to gaze deep into your very soul ? Or my perfectly sculptured cheekbones that give me a melancholic, though refined appearance?”

“Oh, no. I’ve seen your file, I know you look like a starving cat who’s been mildly inconvenienced. But I didn’t realize you had-”

“What?”

“How long your hair was.”

Villain looked at them with sudden, horrified comprehension. All embarrassment had disappeared from Hero’s face. In fact, it was replaced by a near maniacal glee.

“Oh no. You cannot mean-”

But their roommate was so excited they were rocking on their heels, their eyes glowing:

“Look, all I’m saying is that I’ve got a free afternoon for once-”

“You dare-”

“That I’ve got all the hair products in the world-”

“That I’ll give you, it’s an invasion-”

“They need to be taken care of.”

“You mean you need to play with them.”

“Same thing. Please?”

“But I’m brooding!”

“And I’m braiding.”

Villain looked at Hero with their jointed hands and their awkward grin, and groaned:

“You really are my nemesis. Fine.”

Hero beamed at them and took the photo. By the time Villain followed them in front of the dressing table, the shadow was back on their face. After a while, they sighed and accepted to show the back of their head. Grinning all they could, Hero gently let their fingers glide on the offered strands. Their roommate had beautiful hair, straight, shiny, and of course, raven-black. It also had all the knots in the world.

“The situation is dire. Pass me the spray.”

“You have more of them than a witch has bottles. I’m afraid you need to be more specific.”

“The green one.”

Villain handed it to them by the tip of their fingers. Hero took it, used it generously, then grabbed a brush. This was wonderful, but not as enjoyable as they thought it would be. Under the hair, the skinny shoulders were as tense as ever. No matter how soft they tried to be, Villain never relaxed a bit. Hero bit their lip, wondering how guilty they had to feel for that.

“Can I ask a question?” they said after a while. “Why do you cover yourself with your shadow all the time?”

“Because I’m dark and brooding and tormented.”

“Doesn’t that get exhausting, using your power constantly?”

Villain shrugged.

“At first it was. As the darkness grew in my heart, so did my shadow. Also I had a growing spur when I was fifteen. That helped.”

“I see.”

“Covering myself might seem impressive to you, it is but a little feat to me. I could plunge whole streets in the dark, should I wish so. No light could pierce through.”

“I know. You are incredibly powerful,” Hero smiled. “For a Twinkies thief.”

“You are never going to live that down, are you?”

“Nope.”

Hero took several strands and began to braid them.

“What I meant was why?”

“I don’t see how that might preoccupy you.”

Hero keep their eyes on what they were doing, but their voice shivered slightly when they said:

“Maybe it’s none of my business, but sometimes I worry it’s because you never feel safe, even here. It must be exhausting, never lowering your guard.”

“How can I, when I live with my dreaded foe?”

The hands in Villain’s hair froze.

“Do you really dread me?”

Villain had their usual booming, contemptuous laugh, the one that the neighbors hated.

“I’m your nemesis. It will be a sad day when I fear you.”

“Good,” whispered Hero.

Leaving the braid, their right hand rubbed their neck:

“I’m working for Superhero, it’s true, and uh...all of this...the situation is...complex? I had no idea what happened between you two-”

“I'm aware-”

“But now I know and things are going to get more complicated, but I’m- All I want to say is- ugh, I’m so not good at this-”

“On that, we agree.”

Hero took a deep breath:

“Look, I’m nothing compared to Superhero. I don’t think I can do much. But I will do it. To keep you safe. I know that’s just words-”

“I believe you.”

“You do?”

Green eyes emerged from Villain’s shadow to meet Hero’s gaze on the mirror:

“You’re a dreadful liar. I know when you lie.”

“Well…”

“For example, when you said that today was a holiday you’ve taken long ago, you couldn’t look at me.”

“Ah. Yes. I’m sorry. I just- I wanted to spend the day with you to make sure that-”

“-that I was unharmed so we could keep our endless dueling, for such is the destiny of nemeses.”

“Err, sure. Something like that. We...we’re good then?”

“No, I’m very evil. But I think we’ve understood each other.”

Check the These Two Dorks Masterlist or Tag for more snippets with this Hero and Villain. This is how they met and now they’re roommates.

Or back to Hero x Villain Masterlist.

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princesssarcastia · 5 years ago

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reminders for my future self, the next time my anxiety forces me to procrastinate to the point of self-sabotage, just in case i ever feel like being rational (lol):

1. starting is always the hardest part! its almost immediately better after starting. you Will feel better after starting a task 1a. honestly think of it as like showering. its the same vibe

2. the task in question has LITERALLY NEVER been as hard as you feel in your hindbrain that it’s going to be.

2a. you could break it down into smaller tasks to make that more obvious; or just ignore any future steps in favor of the one right in front of you!

3. people around you, depending on the work you’re not fucking doing right now, would generally prefer that you get something done on time less well than done late more well

3a. also, when have you ever turned in something later so it could be done better? its Always Worse at that point, my dude. you’re trading on time and less-than-perfect for late and even-worse-than-less-than-perfect. come on.

4. if for some god forsaken reason we get into this mess again (which we will, future, me, otherwise you wouldn’t be procrastinating in the future by reading this stupid list im making as a way to procrastinate in your past, my present) remember that MORE COMMUNICATION is better than NO COMMUNICATION. if for some reason you’re not finishing the thing on time, shoot the people depending on the thing an email! preferably before you’ve overshot the deadline and they’re left hanging and empty-handed.

4a. i know what you’re thinking. “but past sarcastia,” you’re thinking, “my dude, sending an email is also a task.” im choosing to ignore this in the hopes that you’ve somehow improved on our general self since you were me.

4ai. see steps 1-3

5. we should probably see a doctor about this, huh

#lol yeah probably #for future reference #procrastinating #so like im pretty self aware #thats not a brag that's a curse #i know exactly what is happening to me right now #i usually do procrastinate pretty badly #but i always manage to make up for it by working for a ridiculous amount of time in a row #right before the deadline #its probably the adrenaline of impending doom that kicks my brain into task mode #but because we're in the middle of a pandemic #and because we just got out of #arguably the most stressful presidential election in recent memory #my 'impending doom' sensor in the back of my head #is all thrown out of wack #the impending doom of a too-close deadline #doesn't register #on a meter that's also reading a global fucking pandemic #its the ~trauma~!!#also like as I make connections with the people around me #my hindbrain learns #that these people a) care about me as a person #and b) are willing to give me grace on shit like deadlines #the same way i might for them!#but that's not the point #the point is that the hindbrain is taking advantage of these people im starting to like and know #like a fucking traitor #will this be what finally pushes me to seek like #some sort of help for this issue?#who knows. check back in next year

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pinkhairedlily · 4 years ago

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Chapter 4 - Student Council President Sakura

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

“By any chance, are you two available after class?” Sakura asked her seatmates.

“No.” The reply, while simultaneous, delivered contrasting connotations with Sasuke being gruff, adamant, eager to be uninvolved while Naruto’s was dripping with disappointment and missed timing.

“I have practice.” The blonde sank further into his seat. “But whatever is it for, Pres?”

Sakura grimaced at the monicker. “What’s up with that?”

“It’s what everyone calls you now,” Naruto replied. “You’re the youngest president too so that’s like a really big deal, you know. So anyway, if our schedules free up and coincide, maybe you can join us in this cute café.”

Sasuke discreetly flashed him a glare which obviously just flew past across the blonde airhead, but it was caught by Sakura who knew where this opening was headed.

“They served the best sweets but grumpy here ordered a tomato dish. Like what’s up with that? They also gave us free food before we left!” Naruto grinned widely, unperturbed by his next statement. “Moreover, there’s a cute barista who looks just like you.”

And Sakura decided to deliver the curve ball. With her chin on her open palm, she looked at Naruto directly. “So you’re saying I’m cute?”

Sasuke swore that was the reddest he saw Naruto turned. He tried to hide the bubbling laughter with his head down and his hand on his mouth, reveling in the blonde’s embarrassed stuttering, but he slowly registered her amused glance at him, and he wondered briefly why his face was also turning hot.

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

He shouldn’t be doing this. He should have come home after classes ended and not be entranced with Naruto’s rare offer of free dinner. Obviously, by free dinner, that meant their coach paying for the entire team’s meal as well as the roster of honorary members, which unsurprisingly included him.

So he was just napping the time away in the classroom, away from their go-to hideout because of the noisy dragonboat power yells, when he heard a scream and an ensuing crash of what seemed to be books and stacks of papers. His feet was already at the door before he could think this through, his body moving on its own accord like an innate response to a familiar voice.

Loose pink strands were splayed on the floor, surrounded with likewise loose pages from the confines of the folders.

“Did you hit your head?” he asked as he crouched beside her. “You seem to enjoy injuring yourself.”

“I didn’t hit my head. I landed on my butt which hurts a lot right now but thank God I’m wearing sweatpants because you would have seen such outrageous grandma panties.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose at the TMI. “Try filtering.” He proceeded to pick up the scattered papers and files on the floor and gestured for her to stand up already.

“I need a hand though.”

“My hands are full with your documents.”

“Then let me get your back.”

He muttered an annoyed protest under his breath, but he squatted low enough for her to reach the back of his uniform and pull herself up with accompanying ow-ow-ow-ow. They walked like that until they reached the student council office, her box of files safely tucked in both of his arms, her one hand on the edge of his shirt and the other on her lower back.

“Thanks, Sasuke! And with this, I pronounce you and Naruto my official runners!”

“He’s not even here.”

“He’ll agree. After all, I look like his cute barista.” Sakura winked, riding on the comedic atmosphere.

“But I didn’t even agree?” Sasuke protested, falling into deaf ears as she quickly took the folders from his arms and exited the office with a wave. He was sure warning signs kept flashing inside his brain.

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

He was set on keeping his distance, thus despite her informal announcement, it was mostly Naruto who accompanied her in most errands except in instances when he had to stay behind after class to wait for the blonde.

His latest task was to help write support banners for the preliminary matches of the baseball team. Personally, he found the game season a nuisance, but of course, he wouldn’t admit it to himself that the trainings were eating up most of his time with Naruto. If they weren’t practicing pitches during lunch, the blonde would discuss game strategies, a topic he actually exceled in. Sasuke theorized his brain cells operated most efficiently when used for kinetics. He wouldn’t admit it, but he felt sidelined – with his companion successfully finding something to keep the loneliness at bay – while he remained in the frontlines, waging an internal war between the thundering silence of his apartment, and the raucous chaos of his thoughts.

He stood there awkwardly on the side of the student council office as the rest of the council members hunched on the floor, painting the words haphazardly out of the outline patterns, the worst among them being Sakura.

Frustrated and driven by a compulsion, he grabbed a spare brush and blank canvas and started the lettering. Thank god for his childhood calligraphy classes. This feat earned him interested looks from the members.

“Wow Pres, you really reeled in a talented runner,” one member chided. “He’s still as grumpy as ever though.”

Sakura wasn’t entirely happy as she looked over his shoulder. “Oh come on. Our banners weren’t that bad.”

“If I were on the baseball team, I’d think you would want us to lose.” He finished one cheering banner and gave it to the nervous member beside him. Apparently, his presence intimidated them even though he was but a mere runner. “Can you give me the next one?”

“Why are we bothering though?” asked the vice-president. “Our school team never makes it past the preliminaries.” From the get go, Sasuke felt her slight annoyance of having been bypassed in the selection, and while this was valid, he also thought she shouldn’t project this to Sakura who was caught in the middle of the decision of the advisory board.

He needn’t worry however, as she carried the subtle dig effortlessly, her usual positivity dripping through. “Isn’t it better to put it your all and see everything through than to give up when the clock hasn’t even started running yet? I find regrets more troublesome.”

Flustered with her response, the vice-president shifted her gaze back to the canvas in front of her and started to paint again. Everyone didn’t see it, but he caught Sakura sticking her tongue out to her.

Such a child. He found himself smirking.

Naruto started skipping classes as the day of the preliminaries crept closer. A week of this behavior prompted Sakura to pry his address out of Sasuke. He found out days later that she started coming to his apartment and incessantly ring the doorbell until his neighbors in the complex complained of the early morning noise.

Sasuke’s part in this scheme was the notes he compiled and one-word reminders through texts when there were deadlines or assignments. Somehow, it evolved into a convoluted arrangement among the three of them to keep the baseball rookie MVP afloat in his academics. As compensation for their efforts, Naruto started to buy them convenience store rice balls for morning snacks.

“You idiot. You should save your allowance,” Sasuke said smugly to the blonde.

“And yet you’re swallowing it in full.” Naruto grinned. “You should chew, grumpy! Chew!”

Sakura took a sip of her cranberry juice and smiled fondly at them. “Are you ready for Friday?”

“We’re facing off a top ten school, and Captain Haru said we don’t have that much chance. I don’t believe it though. I think we’ll win,” Naruto replied.

“You have a strategy ready?” Sakura asked.

He shook his head and pointed to himself rather proudly. “No but the team has me.” Sasuke choked on the last bit of his rice ball at the latter’s pronouncement.

“I told you to chew!”

Sakura, in panic, gave her half-drunk juice carton to him, and Sasuke, also internally panicking, grabbed it and downed the rest of it.

“You okay?” Sakura patted his back and snuffled a laughter which Naruto joined with his loud, uncontrollable dry heaves. Sasuke glared at the two, but this only served to amuse them further. “Oh wow, that was the first time I ever saw you uncomposed.” She swiped the tears in her eyes with the back of her hand.

“But really, they have me so we’ll win,” Naruto insisted.

“I’ll wear a cheering uniform for you,” she chirped back.

“Gods, dumb and dumber,” Sasuke sighed, defeated.

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

On the afternoon of the game, Sasuke found himself surrounded with a large female following after Sakura got all the members and the runners cheering outfits, and by outfits, that meant olive green jersey tops and maroon sweatpants representative of the school colors. She also took advantage of his obligated presence by giving him the task to distribute the banners and flaglets to the benches. The genius orphan and the couldn’t-care-less Uchiha roaming the rows? That pulled the student crowd needed for the game.

“Go Naruto!” Sakura yelled beside him. A black bandana was tied around her forehead, and her ponytail was replaced with a high bun.

Sasuke inadvertently covered his eardrums. The noise was even louder when the student council started a yell routine in the bleachers. The side of the opponent was half-full, and surprise was transparent in the other team’s faces. Probably the first time that support with this magnitude was given to the baseball team. Also, it was his first time attending a ball game in person, not that he didn’t try asking his brother before.

He felt a light tap on his shoulders. He turned around to see a raven-haired girl behind him, dressed in a lilac midi dress and sporting the black bandana on her wrist. “Is this seat taken?” She motioned to the space beside him. Her face was familiar – he knew he saw her somewhere but also certain he never interacted directly with her.

“Ah Hinata?” Sakura’s voice squeaked in recognition. She gestured to him to exchange seats with her, and she immediately patted her to sit down. “Cheering for Haru?”

Ah, the Hyuuga, the captain’s girlfriend. They’re actually friends.

“I was actually planning to buy the whole team dinner regardless of the results,” she said to Sakura. He was not good at reading people, but this Hinata was soft-spoken and gentle with her mannerisms that he found it fitting for her to be with Haru. He was, after all, so steadfast and assertive with his members, and he could even get Naruto in line with a look. So much so like Sakura that this exact dynamic was playing beside him.

It was a weird thing though when he glanced at the two and saw that her eyes were not trained on Haru but on certain blonde bloke on the field.

“President Sakura.”

Great, another distraction. He knew that voice even when the entire field was already screaming.

Sakura whipped her head too fast he was afraid she was gonna break her neck. Even when she was already glowing, her face lit up brighter when Kakashi handed her two bottles of water. “Nice job rounding an audience. Here, Give one to your runner.”

It was evident she wanted him to stay as she started to look around and tried to find a space near her. Noticing this, Sasuke tried stand up and offer him his seat, but she placed a firm hand on his knee, followed by a slight shake of her head, and a soft disappointed sigh when Kakashi disappeared from the crowd.

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

He was walking out of the bathroom when the announcer declared the winner of the two-hour game. Of course, they would win. Naruto never backed down from his pronouncements, no matter how silly or unattainable they may be. He should buy him a stack of his favorite ramen as prize.

“Yo, Uchiha.”

Naruto’s bullies blocked the path leading to the bleachers – there were four of them, the same people who made fun of him in the hallway last time.

“Your people skills shot up after spending time with that orphan MVP and the chirpy pinky huh?”

“Birds of the same feather flock together.”

Normally, Sasuke would let these insults slide, if one could call them that. They were bigger and taller than him with faces that reflected experienced jabs in their scars and band-aids. To take them on alone, considering also the fact that he skipped gym for almost a year now, would be suicide. Nonetheless, he didn’t feel riled up as they expected him to be.

“Or should we say, they shot up in their society ranks because of you? After all, your dad was a member of the board.”

“Oooh my bad, dead dad.”

His hands started to clench into fists – an involuntary action out of their own volition. This slight shift in his body language gave them the go signal to surround him.

“Heard through the grapevine that it was actually your fault they’re dead. Imagine sleeping next to your dying parents and not looking for help?”

“Pathetic being.”

“Now he parades himself like an entitled son of a chairman.”

A kick to his shin. “Can’t really do anything to us, huh? Afraid to tarnish your dead daddy’s reputation?”

A punch to his side, and Sasuke clutched at the contact. Another right at the center of his stomach, and he doubled over, the water he drank threatening to hurl itself on the ground.

“You’re a better target than Orphan No. 1. You don’t really fight back.” The bully placed his foot on his hand, pushing him down further and making him bow. “You need to show you’re a model student. After all, your brother’s one of the shareholders of the school, and he has no need for trouble from his shunned sibling.”

Simultaneous kicks to Sasuke’s side. They were right, to an extent, but it was the whole process of explaining that would tire him out. Conversing with Itachi was a drag all on its own, like talking to the void, and hearing the senseless blame games all over again. This was all right, he assured himself throughout the whole encounter, since he was already numb. The other pain inside his head was stronger and sharper.

“Then again, you probably pulled some strings to get pinky that coveted position, didn’t you? Imagine a second year being president all of a sudden without going through the motions.”

The bile rose to his throat, and there was an entirely different metallic taste in his mouth. His fists were itching to fight back.

“Let’s destroy your pretty face this time, and we’ll come for the pinky next.”

Sasuke gained momentum to land a kick on the person’s crotch, the force and shock sending him reeling to the side. That was reckless, he knew that, because then he was exposed to the punches of the three others. And so he waited for contact but there was a flurry of bodies and that pink bright contrast in his line of sight.

One fist landed on Sakura’s face.

AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 5

#SCPS #student council president sakura #sasusaku #uchiha sasuke #haruno sakura #narusaku #kakasaku #uzumaki naruto #hatake kakashi #pseudolily

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dasklaus · 4 years ago

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Coming back from the SSC meetup, spent some time standing awkwardly next to groups waiting to be included (mixed results), had some very nice conversations, saw Scott but exchanged no words, also reflecting on why I hate the whole self-improvement industry.

It's been one of the few offputting things about EA and the ratsphere. Biohacking! Productivity improvement! Earn to give! Coaching!

I guess my distaste is twofold: one is because it's so cultish and woo-y - it's self-help, but for nerds/tech bros, I don't think I need to get into that one. The other is that it's simply not relevant to me.

That doesn't mean that I don't care to improve my life and what I do with it. I actually care very much about bettering myself and doing things! But the only improvements I've seen to that have been by setting less goals for myself, not more. By drastically broadening the range of outcomes I deem okay, and good enough. I cannot strive for perfection.

Part of that is because my starting point is just so different from healthy young extroverted successful types. If you're that, then what you do to improve is naturally very different from what I do, because I'm working on planning my life around my various Issues And Illnesses.

Sometimes, you're too broken for the repair to even be applicable - I've been prescribed meds a couple of times that I never took, because remembering and taking them at the same day was basically impossible ("Oh, just take them in the morning when you get up" - bitch, I don't get up in the morning, some days I don't get up at all, and anyway, I don't have a fixed sleep pattern! That's part of the problem!). I stopped therapy at some point because I could not go there reliably, and I had to pay 40€ every time I missed an appointment. I missed a lot of appointments and had no income.

Now, I'm in a different place now and wouldn't have the same problems today. But in part that is because the things that seem like I should improve on them are actually load-bearing. Often, I don't get much done unless there's a deadline looming - so, more deadlines and obligations should improve my productivity, right? No, now I'm sleeping worse, might quit all of it, cannot cope with bad pain days anymore and also, when inspiration strikes and I get obsessive about something, I cannot harness that energy and motivation because there's no time, causing me to do way less overall, and much less of the things that are the most original, things that would not exist without me. If I don't take this job they'll hire someone else but if I'm not free to jump head-first into this project or idea then it will simply never happen. If I do these five productivity-enhancing things every day/week/whatever, the dishes will not get done and I won't shower anymore, because I have very, very little capacity for "things to regularly keep track of" and "actions I perform on my own without supervision". Doing fifty small tasks with someone together registers as one thing, but making one phone call or scanning one document, even if it takes just a minute, is a Big Task on its own. That's just how my brain works, this is insight from observation.

I do optimize. But that looks very different from what other people do. I just don't have anything to say to these people, and they not to me.

#personal

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clero-dendrum · 4 years ago

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Guys I have a confession.

So here's the thing. In order to make the wait less miserable, my adhd brain started to think of the act of making my weekly hosplay posts the night before the new episode...as a task with a deadline. And guess what this adhd brain is shitty at? Deadlines.

So.

When I keep putting it off because I register it as a chore, the time runs out faster and before I know it its almost time for the new episode 💀

#ahhh for once having a deadline catch up on me is a happy time #AYO like i know it sounds kinda wack but bear with me for some reason it works 😂#ahh gosh. i'm a strange excuse for a person.#hospital playlist #hospital playlist 2 #hospital playlist season 2 #adhd feels #adhd be like #actually adhd #anyways hehe Hosplay tomorrow yayyyy

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softowlhours · 5 years ago

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paperclip chains

akaashi keiji (officeAU!)

a collection of scenarios following you and akaashi as you try and finesse the art of navigating life as working adults.

genre: a bit sad at times, but hopefully fluffier in the future.

a/n: my first piece of writing and this is pure self indulgent because work is hard and nothing makes sense sometimes. hope you all enjoy and find some comfort in it.

word count: 3500~

pt. one 🦋 blank like a sheet of paper. 🦋

[friday. 3:00 p.m.]

someone had cracked open the window. the air inside the office had been much too oppressive, stale with the smell of the murky, insipid coffee you could get from the cafeteria. for free. staff privileges, they call it. late afternoon sun pours in through the large square windows. it ignites the office, dying it in the shades of an inferno. however, the warmth of it does not reach akaashi’s heart. the way the rays set everything aglow was in contrast to the chill crisp autumn air. akaashi could hear the leaves rustle, clinging to the branches waiting for that particular gust of wind, strong enough to blow them off. the leaves would then twirl and twirl until they’d softly land on the damp earth becoming one with it again. he wishes he were a leaf.

He tries to focus on nature’s gentle melody, but the hubbub of the office is overbearing. the incessant clicking of alphabets on the keyboards, the murmur of pages being turned, someone sneezes loudly and it is immediately followed by lazy ‘bless you’s’. his ears are attuned to the low electric groan of the printer, and he hopes someone would get up and unclog the jam of papers before the white noise drives him insane. he ends up doing it himself, almost losing a finger in the process as he tries to pull out a badly stuck paper from the printers’ rollers. today had been one of those days where nothing had gone right, a domino of disasters triggered the moment he’d opened his eyes. these days had been coming by way too often lately for his taste. he felt tired.

none of these turmoils showed on his exterior though, he wore a calm, unbothered mask. despite his depressing inner monologue, he diligently read through the manuscript highlighting bits he’d like to go over with the author at their next meeting.

it wasn’t like akaashi hated his job, infact, this was his dream job. he loved what he did but sometimes his love for his work was eclipsed by the politics the workplace was entrenched in. the naivety from when he had first joined almost a year ago had worn off quickly. it took him a mere week in the workforce to understand that a job demanded more than the list of skills and tasks specified in the job description. in any office, beneath the veneer of civility, there always remains an undercurrent of competition, jealousy, idle minds looking for entertainment at the expense of each other. there were people who did not love their job, the free loaders who somehow never did their share but managed to take home their bag of coins. they would slack and slack some more until the burden of their neglect would be shifted upon the shoulders of the new comers. too timid to resist. he pulls out his leather bound planner, a gift from his friend to celebrate him landing the role of an assistant editor all those months ago. it is almost filled from start to finish with his scribbles and the leather is soft with constant handling. his eyes scan past all the work he had wrapped up for the day, until one of his seniors had dumped an endless stack of files containing short stories that had been sent in for the monthly writing contests. they’re not short anymore when you have a hundred of them to read at once. apparently, the senior had a date he’d forgotten about and had to leave early. akaashi couldn’t report this to the boss, he knew how offices worked. its venomous hierarchies slithered like snakes ready to diss whoever defied them. rookies must act like rookies. akaashi quickly jots down in his planner a list of things he must get done over the weekend and the bulleted list slowly fills up two entire pages.

when he wasn’t picking up after someone’s mess akaashi did enjoy what he did. he enjoyed being on top of his work, found an euphoric satisfaction in duties well done. while his colleagues took it easy during the day and whined as they worked overtime in the evenings to meet deadlines, akaashi was most probably done for the day by then and already at home; fresh out of the shower and lighting his favourite candles that made his bedroom smell like cinnamon. he’d curl up under his soft comforter letting the tension of a busy day dissipate from his body. he kept his favorite books on the nightstand and would read them as he waited for sleep to come.

“akaashi-chan,” he hears the soothing voice of his supervisor, an old well natured man in his sixties who had worked here for almost thirty years. he walks upto akaashi’s desk, his eyes crinkling with a gentle smile as he takes in the mess that was his desk. “its difficult being a rookie, huh?” hatori-san says. “i would’ve just let you gone home, but the design and printing departments are an anxious bunch. they’re breathing down our necks for the final draft of the magazine two weeks before the release date.”

“please don’t apologise, hatori-san. It’s always like this towards the end of the month.” you aren’t the one who should be apologising.

“hmm...” the elderly muses, “maybe you should dilly dally like your colleagues, afterall, who is to blame you? the youth are meant to be reckless. ”

“but hatori-san if i did that not even a quarter of our magazine will be ready by the end of this month!” akaashi’s voice is filled with amusement, and mild terror.

hatori-san chuckles. “yes, yes i’m aware. i’ll rely on you then akaashi-chan. i do have a bit of good news for you though.” a bonus-

“we’re getting another assistant editor on monday, hopefully your workload can be halved from then on and a be little more manageable. i’m worried you’re starting to look older than me akaashi-chan.” he jokes. “i’ll leave her in your care.”

❀ ✿ ✿ ❀

[friday. 8:20 p.m.]

he stays in the office until late that night, finishing as much of his work he can before the words on the screen begin to blur and he can feel his brain churn in his head. he packs the documents he needed to read over the weekend, putting them neatly in his black briefcase. the temperatures have dropped quite low and with his tan coat on and a scarf wrapped around his neck, he steps out into the world. outside, tokyo is buzzing with life, the lights twinkle and a bubbly atmosphere engulfs even this usually grim and dull part of the city; where most companies found their home. salary men and women chatter excitedly as they pour into the office district from the high rise buildings of concrete and glass. groups of people stand on the sidewalk chatting amicably, smoke rises from cigarettes, plans to go hangout at karaokes, bars and restaurants float in the air.

it wasn’t that akaashi did not have friends, or ever had trouble making any. he was easy going, attentive and though not the loudest in the room, he was enigmatic. people were drawn to him. especially the weird and loud ones. not that he minded. not that he ever judged. which is what made people open up their hearts to him so easily. they knew he’d take them for who they were. but, like earlier today he couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease that clawed at him. he had his dream job but the hours he spent on his desk day after day, the endless exchange of apathetic emails, the unlimited cups of coffee, had all amalgamated into a kind of hollowness. he felt empty instead of fulfilled. he idly wonders if bokuto-san ever felt this way, or knowing him, did he charge straight ahead without any inhibitions? if you asked bokuto whether he could see himself playing volleyball for the next twenty or fifty years, bokuto would say ‘yes, ofcourse!!!’ in a heartbeat. and akaashi knew bokuto would mean it.

he wonders how hatori-san had spent his entire life in that office. could i do the same?

akaashi considers hanging out with some of his friends from university, maybe take hatori-san’s advice and just let go and forget everything for a while. he could be your typical 20 something, going to the bars with his 20 something friends where they’d shit talk their rude colleagues. He could console that one friend who wouldn’t stop crying over his ex-girlfriend who left him 3 years ago, every time he’s drunk. he could go home with that girl at the opposite end of the bar who wouldn’t stop looking his way, and who in his drunken haze, he thinks to be pretty. but eventually akaashi decides he is too tired to do any of that.

much later, when he settles into bed, he mindlessly picks up a book from his nightstand. he starts reading from where he had left off the night before but his eyes don’t really register a single word. for all he knew, he could’ve been staring at a blank sheet of paper. after a few more minutes of seeing nothing, he puts the book away and buries himself deep underneath the covers.

he feels the tears fall.

❀ ✿ ✿ ❀

[monday, 9:45 a.m.]

its odd. akaashi feels well rested. very very well rested.

his eyes fly open, and the first thing he sees is the blue sky peeking from the gap between his curtains. he’s afraid to look at the time.

9:45 A.M. well, shit.

akaashi feels winded by the time he makes it to the floor where his office was.from the door he sees hatori-san standing next to akaashi’s chair, his back towards him. akaashi’s heart is in his throat, an apology that sounds fake dances on his tongue. he then hears hatori-san chuckle. a soft female voice says something he cannot catch. ah, the new assistant editor.

“good morning” he calls hoarsely, as he approaches them.

“Ah, hello akaashi-san,” his supervisor beams, “meet y/n. hopefully, your new partner in crime.”

“i was told i’m supposed to help slow down your aging process.” her voice is soft, and despite the shyness there is a mischievous lilt to her tone. “i’ll do my best. please do guide me.”

hatori-san excuses himself. she’s practically buzzing with excitement, akaashi notices. before he can say anything, she pulls out a brand-new notepad from her bag, pen clicking open. she looks ready to take on the world.

he has to bite back a smile. she’s cute, cheeks flush and lips in a pout as she jots down something on it. he genuinely wonders what it is she writes, considering he hasn’t even spoken yet. her hair is neatly tied away from her face but a few stray tendrils fall and delicately frame her face.

he wonders if this is how he had looked on his first day at work. face pink and eyes bright. probably not as cute though, oh no, definitely not cute. he internally cringes at the memory of his awkwardness.

but you miss it. that excitement.

“it’s fine.” he says, “please just sit down and relax, i’ll guide you as we go through our daily routine.” he gives her a small smile.

they spend the morning, going through the basics of the trade, she's a fast learner, he notes. and later during the lunch hour he divulges to her the little ‘how to survive in this office 101s’. he tells her how how she mustn’t drink the free coffee they hand out at the cafeteria (even though he’s come to accept it himself, for he welcomes caffeine in any state and form). he suspects they reuse the coffee grounds more times than considered acceptable. how if you ever jammed the printer, try and leave before anyone realises it was you if you don’t want to be the recipient of death glares from colleagues all day long. He tells her which restrooms are the best and which elevators reach their destinations the fastest. the grimmer and more ruthless bits of working here can wait, he thinks.

passion was something he lost some time ago and hasn’t been able to find ever since.

“make sure to take it easy.” he mumbles to her as they are putting away their trays, “if work gets too much, you can always place the manuscripts and drafts on my desk when i’m not looking.”

she looks at him incredulously. laughter bubbles from her lips as she tells him with mock indignance that she’s better than that. she asks the cafeteria lady for two cups of the infamous coffee, offering him one.

“lets toast!” y/n proposes .

“to what?”

“to all the times we’ll be the the last two brain cells holding up this company. together.” she jokes, touching her paper cup to his.

he likes the sound of ‘together’.

❀ ✿ ✿ ❀

#akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #akaashi scenarios #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #hq!!#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu scenarios #reader insert #hq akaashi #akaashi fluff #akaashi keiji fluff

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sodaslurp · 5 years ago

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A Feline’s Values (Saiouma)

Aha.. so technically this story is also on ao3 but I wanted to post it here, just because I got the idea from here and... why not. ALSO this is only the first chapter so if you want to check out more, you should go check it out on ao3! my username is 1FrogsintheCarolinas1 and the title is (of course) A Feline’s Values, don’t feel like you have to especially since this is one of my first fics, and uhhhhhh yeah. sorry I’m rambling a lot. anyway.......

________________________________________________________________

When Shuichi Saihara was born there was a celebration.

A small celebration, of course, as his parents could not afford to have a huge party. But it was a party nevertheless, with cake, food, and gifts strewn across the tables of their house.

Compliments to his mother and him were common at the party, many cooing at the small boy, and most attracted to his bright yellow eyes. He was a handsome young boy, he was told, just as beautiful as his mother.

He now supposes that’s when all of the compliments started.

As Shuichi Saihara grew older and older he grew more and more beautiful, praise and compliments for his beauty seemed to never escape Shuichi. He wasn’t simply just a boy anymore, he was the town treasure, a jewel polished beyond belief.

And he was content with that, content with his life and family.

But as Shuichi grew, his body grew weary with the compliments, he wanted, no craved something else than just praise, he wanted intimacy, love, romance, as embarrassing as it sounded, and the compliments never seemed to provide that.

He saw the way his mother looked at his father, love and adoration apparent in those orbs. He saw the way his father looked at her, a smile usually sent her way whenever she entered a room.

Shuichi wanted that kind of trust.

So he decided to change.

He became more friendly and polite to attract the compliment people. That’s what they all wanted, right? They all wanted a kind, polite, handsome boy.

So that’s what Shuichi gave them. His efforts seem to pay off too, compliments and relationships forming with him in the blink of an eye.

And he was happy with that, he thought he was so close to what his parents seemed to have.

He was so close, he could feel it! It was just an arm’s length from him.

Just an arm’s length….

_________________________________________________________________

When he found out what his father had done, Shuichi was at a loss at what to do.

Shuichi’s mother was sobbing that night, crying rivers and anger pointed at her husband that was usually full of adoration and tenderness. He had seen a guilty frown on his father’s face, as he left, instead of that smile that was usually directed at his mother.

Shuichi didn’t see the love that night and he didn’t see adoration either.

So what truly is the perfect relationship?

If his standard was broken, what could he look to?

Shuichi may have been gifted with smarts, beauty, and now a gift from a witch herself, but with all of that he was no closer to his goal. It was almost deemed hopeless for him.

But when the witch turned around to leave, sending an all-knowing smile towards him, Shuichi was hit with the impending force of an idea. He knew what to do now.

He knew.

_________________________________________________________________________

“Get the cat!”

A shout echoed across the village, booming across the houses like the owner had a megaphone. The dangling of a key around the cat’s neck , slightly evident when you tilted your ear towards it. Yes, it was like any other day in the somewhat peaceful Danganronpa village.

The villagers were used to it by now, Shuichi usually sending his suitors off on his strange test every day, and shouting and cursing from his suitors usually bellowing across the town.

The villagers never thought much of his strange little test, thinking it was just a way of messing with his suitors while using the golden brain of his.

But that did not mean the suitors were any less annoying to them.

“Whoops! Sorry, dearie! I didn’t mean to trip you, my good sir! I hope you can forgive my clumsiness,” the local tea shop owner stated, pushing her two twin drills behind her head.

A slight snicker was heard from the blonde, pig-tailed girl in the back, her head tilted back slightly as she covered her mouth. The girl had come to the tea shop a lot, the suitor had noticed, as she laughed, almost as if she knew what was going to happen.

The suitor decided to brush it off, leaving them behind without a word as he caught wind of the cat once more. He had decided he was going to catch that cat again if it was the last thing he would do. The fair celibate on the hillside was going to make him rich after all.

Across the alleyways and roofs of the houses they went, the cat running fast and the suitor traveling not very far behind. Panting reached the suitor’s ears before he realized that was him who it came from.

But how could it be? The task that the celibate had given him had seemed so easy, he thought, as he slowed down to catch his breathing. All he had to do was catch the key around the cat’s neck, before sundown, after all.

The lowering of the sun seemed to catch his attention, as the skies grew darker and darker. He had lost the cat, he realized, and the deadline was already through.

The suitor trudged back to the celibate's house empty-handed, no key dangling in his palm. How could this be? How could this be? The cat could not have been that intelligent to specifically avoid him, as it was just a dumb cat.

It was just a dumb cat.

As the suitor finally reached towards the door of his destination, he crumpled to the ground, his tired legs and feet aching after a long run from trying to chase the animal. He knocked on the door, and his tired feet and mind thumping in his body.

The creaking of the door barely registered to him, as he was occupied with fighting his mind to keep himself awake.

It was just a dumb cat.

“Did you happen to bring my key good sir?” His fair celibate's voice rang in the air like the melody of a piano.

It was just a dumb cat.

“I’m sorry my fair celibate, I could not catch the feline for you, but after we are betrothed, I can melt another key for your locked door?” The suitor said, as he grasped his aching knees and looked into the eyes of his dear, beloved money-maker.

A smile, one so lovely and polite like a mother to a child, was all that the suitor was met with. His pale unblemished skin reaching out to touch his tired worn skin. The cool touch did wonders, he thought, as the celibate rubbed the edges of his face.

“No.”

That startled the suitor from his dream-like state, as his fair celibate's fingers left him, and the slamming of the door was all that hung in the air.

It was just a dumb cat.

The hot temper of the suitor, rose to his tired mind, the angry, ugly words spewing out like a hole in a dam.

“Fine, you’re not worth it anyhow!”

“I was gonna use you for money anyways!”

“You’re only worth it for the money you bitch!”

Ugly, ugly words were thrown at the closed door, the shouting crescendoing like an orchestra at full force, and the nasty yelling all the more opposite of the intimacy and romance that Shuichi had so desperately craved.

Not good, not good at all.

Finally, the man seemed to have his fill with Shuichi, the silence deafening while Shuichi hung behind the door, as the footsteps of the man grew farther and farther away.

The dangling of the key hung around the neck of Shuichi was what broke that quiet silence. The tinkling ringing in the air like the higher, more peaceful notes on a piano.

It was just a dumb cat.

#saioma #shuichi x kokichi #shuichi #kokichi #danganronpa #fanfic #i hope this is good

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kpoptrashibnida · 6 years ago

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Enough Pt. 4

A/N: So, I am not super thrilled about this chapter. I just wanted to put out the important event that’s coming up and I didn’t want to extend it too much because I didn’t want to drag it out and have it not make sense or not have the flow work. So I hope this is okay and understandable and not boring. Also, please let me know what you are thinking about the series so far. Thanks! Happy reading!

You were breathing hard as you sat in the doctor's office, your leg shaking relentlessly due to the nerves you were feeling. You begged the doctor to expedite the test results because it was important that you knew that same day if you were pregnant, caught a disease or both. Thankfully she agreed once she saw your insurance card and knew she could charge them hefty fees for the expedited test. You closed your eyes and leaned back against the chair, willing your nerves to calm down as you patiently (impatiently) waited for the doctor or even a nurse to finally come inside. You had been waiting for a good 30 minutes and you glanced at your watch, debating whether or not to text your boss to let him know your “lunch” meeting was running longer than expected.

“Hi, I’m back. Sorry for the delay, we were trying to get these results as soon as possible.” The doctor said as she walked in and sat on the stool in front of you.

You sat up on the chair, your heart hammering in your chest the second the doctor walked in. “That’s fine.” You said softly, not trusting your voice.

“Well, I have good news. You are not pregnant and you don’t have any STDs.” She said with a smile.

You could almost cry of how happy you are. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, relaxing your shoulders as you finally felt like everything was going to be okay. “I’m glad. I was just concerned because I’ve never missed my period before.”

“Well there could be a few explanations for that. Have you been experiencing any stress? Or a change of contraceptive?” She asked

“Now that I think about it, I did get a different prescription of birth control. And I’m helping my best friend plan her wedding, so I've been stressed out with that and work.”

“Well the change of birth control most definitely had something to do with your period being late. Once your body gets used to the new dosage, you should be regular again.”

“Thank you so much doctor.” You said with a smile, getting up and grabbing your purse, getting ready to leave.

“Of course. Have a great day.”

You walked back to work with more pep in your step. You were so relieved that you could scream to the heavens! You took your phone out, pulling up your text conversation with Chanyeol.

Good news. I’m not pregnant and you didn’t give me a disease. Let’s not speak to each other again now :)

You put your phone away and smiled as you made your way to work, not expecting or hoping for a reply.

After work, you were going to go dress shopping with Mina and Eunji. You two were going to walk there together after work and Eunji was going to meet you there. Once you made it to the lobby of the company, you saw Mina waiting for you by the door.

“Sorry! Have you been waiting long? The intern had so many questions I lost track of time.” You apologized as you approached her.

“No worries, I literally just got here. But since when are you in charge of babysitting interns?” She asked with a laugh.

“I’m not. But he came into my office as soon as I was going to leave.” You rolled your eyes, not wanting to be rude to the intern.

“He probably has a crush on you.” Mina teased, making you laugh loudly

“As if, Jungkook is just a boy.” You dismiss, the idea being utterly ridiculous.

“Yeah a hot one! That boys shoulders are massive! I’d give him a run for his money if I wasn’t a loyal fiancée.” Mina swooned.

“Okay okay calm down there.” You laughed, he was cute but oh so young. You halted once you saw the sight before you.

“What’s wrong?” Mina questioned at your lack of movement.

“Oh gosh let me get some ddopokki before we get there! I am so hungry!.” You said as you made your way to the food cart, ordering the largest size of ddopokki they had. “Do you want one?” You asked Mina

“I’m fine… how are you so hungry? Did you not have a lunch meeting?” She questioned, making your way to the bridal shop.

You gulped down the large amount of food in your mouth, feeling brave enough to tell your best friend the whole story. “Well, I lied. I didn’t go to a meeting. I had a doctor's appointment.”

“Doctors appointment? Are you ill?” She asked concerned

“I went to get a pregnancy test and a STD test…” You glanced at her to gauge her reaction.

She stopped in her tracks, her brain having a hard time registering what you had just said. “Wait. What? STD? Pregnancy? What the hell is going on?” She demanded, her mind running a mile a minute.

You took a deep breath and dived right into everything that happened. From Chanyeol ghosting you, from you ghosting him, from hooking up again, him not wearing a condom, you finding out that he was hooking up with other girls after he had cum in you, the realization that your period was late and the possibility of pregnancy, how you told Chanyeol and he completely dismissed you and to today. The good news of no pregnancy and no STDs. Mina was in shock after hearing everything you said, not believing what an asshole Chanyeol turned out to be.

“My god, you’ve been through a lot! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Mina said as she stopped in front of the bridal boutique.

“Because I didn’t want to put any negativity out there right now with your wedding planning. I’m just glad it’s all over and done with.” You shrug, not seeing why it was a big deal.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, you know you can tell me anything any time.” She felt a little guilty at the fact that you felt like you had to keep things in just so she doesn’t have to get stressed out.

“I know babe, let’s just focus on finding you the perfect dress!” You squealed excitedly, opening the door and heading to the countless rows of gorgeous wedding gowns.

A few weeks went by and the day to Mina and Suho’s wedding kept getting closer. Everything was going smoothly and the only things left to lock in was the flowers and confirming with the bakery the items for the dessert bar.

Currently, you were at work trying to finish the deadline for your department, making the final touches to your current marketing proposal. You were the team captain at your department and you were the one in charge of reviewing that everything was correct and in order before submitting it to your boss.

“Hey boss, the big man wants to see you.” Jungkook popped his head in to your office, making you look up from your computer screen that you were focused on.

“Okay, thank you.” You said, getting up and smoothing out your skirt.

You made your way to Mr. Kim’s office.

“Did you ask for me?” You asked as you walked into his office after knocking on his door.

“Yes, please sit down.” He said, taking his glasses off and rubbing between his eyes.

“Is everything okay?” You questioned, a little confused. Mr. Kim never usually comes and asks you into his office. Most of his questions or orders are in email form.

“Come on, how many times have I told you to call me Namjoon? You’re my star player, no need to be so formal.” He kindly admonished, making you smile at his demeanor

“Right, sorry Namjoon.”

“No problem. Has my little brother been doing well?” He asked with a small smile.

“Jungkook? I didn’t know he was your brother!” You said surprised, wondering how you missed that detail.

“Well he’s my cousin but he’s like a little brother to me.” He said, a big grin appearing on his face making him look youthful and carefree.

“He’s doing really well, knows how to get the job done.” You replied honestly.

“Good, good. Well I guess you’re wondering why I asked you here. I actually want to talk to you about something serious.” He said, his playfulness almost fully gone.

You sat up straight in your seat, a sudden wave of nervousness washing over you. “Is everything okay?” You asked as you racked your brain to see if maybe there were any missed mistakes in your last project.

“Yes everything is fine. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make this sound so serious. But I do have a serious offer. Friends Corp is going to open a pop up shop in NewYork. We are going to sell merchandise of all kinds. Shirts, cups, plush toys, etc. I have a team in Manhattan already working on the real estate aspect of the shop, merchandise and other things. But I do need someone who is good with marketing. Not just good, but great. And that’s where you come in.” He pulled out a packet from his desk drawer, showing you the highlighted documents. “The store is expected to open next year, so the contract would be for a whole year. I’d want you to oversee the marketing aspect of this pop up shop for Friends Corp, work closely with the graphic design manager and the PR director. You’d be there until the opening of the store and then you can come back to Korea. We will be giving you a pay raise, accommodate an apartment for you and transportation. What do you think?” He asked, looking hopeful.

You were stunned speechless, not expecting this kind of job offer. You glanced at the pay and your heart skipped a beat. The number on the paper was extremely impressive. “I am honored that you have considered me for this position Mr. K- Namjoon, but would it be possible to let you know later? I just need to make sure I can commit to the move.”

“Of course! Of course! Let me know when you can. But the sooner the better, that way I can book your flight and secure an apartment.” He said with a smile.

“Okay. Thank you.”

You sat at your desk, not being able to focus on your task at hand. This job offer was a great opportunity and you really want to take it. You just need to talk to Mina because you have a hard time thinking about being away from her for a whole year. After work, you two were going to the bakery that is catering her wedding. Suho was meeting you two there so you can all choose the best desserts. She and Suho decided that the didn’t want a super traditional wedding with a cake, they went with a dessert bar route. Liking the idea of options for all tastes and preferences. You decided that telling her about the job offer would be best to do so now, so you could get back to Namjoon with your answer as soon as possible.

“Ready to go?” Mina asked as you were shutting off your computer for the day.

“Yep, all set.” You smiled as you made your way over to her.

You were walking over to the bakery and Mina was happily going on about how excited she was to try out the different desserts and stuff her face. You smiled and nodded your head, a little distracted to be able to cooperate with the conversation.

“You okay? You’re awfully quiet.” Mina asked, observing your unusually quiet demeanor.

“I have something to tell you and I don’t know how to say it.” You said honestly, with Mina, it’s best not to beat around the bush.

“Oh my god, what is it? You’re scaring me.” She honestly did look scared and you felt bad for wording it the way you did.

“Okay, so today, Mr. Kim asked me into his office and offered me a job to work in the pop up shop in New York and he wants me to give him an answer soon and I don’t know what to do.” You managed to say it all in one breath, quickly glancing over at Mina.

She looked shocked for about a second before she grinned excitedly, shaking you in a tight hug, making you laugh.

“What did you say?” She inquired

“I told him I would get back at him to let him know.”

“Why though? It’s an amazing opportunity!”

“I know. But I wanted to make sure you’d be cool with it. It’s a whole year.” You said, just the thought of being away from your friend made you sad.

“Oh my gosh, don’t be dumb. I love you and I’ll miss you like hell, but I’d never expect you to miss out on an opportunity like this! As long as you leave after my wedding.” She said pointedly, making you laugh and feeling relieved.

“I would never dare leave before your big day.” You say, opening the door to the bakery where Suho and his best man, a guy named Kyungsoo who was apparently an expert on all things culinary, were waiting for you two already.

You were able to enjoy all the delicious desserts now that Mina knew of your relocation to New York. She shared the news with Suho and Kyungsoo as soon as you two walked in. Suho was very happy for you and decided that you all were celebrating your job promotion with lots of dessert and complimentary champagne.

The next day you walked in to Namjoon’s office, confident about your decision. Knocking you walk in, making him look up from his computer.

“What a surprise! Are you here to give me an answer?” He asked, taking his glasses off and reclined in his chair.

“Yes, I’ll take the offer. But I can only leave after my friends wedding.” You informed, excited about the move to New York.

“Absolutely. Just tell me the date and I’ll get everything ready.” He said, typing away at his laptop.

“Perfect. Thank you.” You said and went back to work.

“Oh yes.” You moaned, feeling hot lips touch your sensitive nipples, pleasure spreading through your body.

“You like that princess?” The husky voice said, thrusting his hips into you, making his thick length stretch you out deliciously.

You whimpered,nodding your head, the pleasure so consuming you were not able to speak.

“Use your words baby.” The husky voice whispered in your ear.

“Yes, it feels so good.” You panted, thrusting your hips against his in order to speed the process of your orgasm.

“Come for me baby, I know you’re almost there.” He said, rubbing his fingers against your sensitive clit, making your walls spasm against his cock.

You moaned as your release hit you, making you see stars.

His hips started moving faster, chasing his own release. He came soon after you, moaning lowly in your ear.

“That’s it baby, this is why you’re my favorite.”

You sat up in your bed with a start, heart hammering in your chest and a light sheen of sweat covering your body. It was a dream. A wet dream with Chanyeol. How fun-fucking-tastic. You touched your center and felt the wetness coating your panties. You threw them off into your hamper and laid back down in bed frustrated. You cannot believe you just had that kind of dream with Chanyeol. This promotion could not have come at a better moment. You need to get away from this country so you could completely erase him from your mind and memory. You were going to pretend as if he never existed. And you couldn’t wait to be thousands of miles away from him.

***

Chanyeol had stepped away from the computer to get something quick to eat. It seemed like ramen was the only thing he had to eat lately. He really needed to stop being so lazy and go get some actual food from the grocery store. He was in the middle of producing a song for an upcoming artist and he was excited at the progress of the song. This one was going to be a real banger for sure.

He made his way back to his desk with his bowl of ramen in hand, ready to put the finishing touches on the song. He saw the screen of his phone illuminating when he walked in, making his eyebrow furrow. Usually people don’t message him when he’s in the middle of producing.

He felt his heart skip a beat when he read your name on his screen, making him click on the notification at a fast pace.

Good news. I’m not pregnant and you didn’t give me a disease. Let’s not speak to each other again now :)

He read your message a few times, letting the news sink in. He was relieved you weren’t pregnant, although he couldn’t quite understand the feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew you weren’t going to have an STD. Sure he had slept with someone else, but he always wore protection with them. He knew you were angry with him, but it made him feel like crap that you didn’t want to speak to him again. He decided to not answer and give you some time to cool off. He was sure you’d get over it with some time. He went back to work after that, distracting himself from the feelings he was experiencing.

“Daddy, mom won’t let me eat cake!” A cute boy with chubby cheeks and elvish ears came and angrily sat on Chanyeol’s lap.

“I know sweetie. But mom wants to make sure you have space in your tummy for dinner first. Then you can have cake.” Chanyeol said to the small child. Making a big grin spread along his adorable face.

“Promise?” He asked with his cute big puppy dog eyes.

“Of course!” He said confidently.

“Dinner is ready!” You exclaimed, bringing the home made pizza to the table where Chanyeol and the boy were waiting patiently.

“Yay my favorite!” The little boy exclaimed, making both you and Chanyeol laugh.

“I know baby. This is why I didn’t let you eat cake first.” You said, caressing the top of his head in a loving manner.

“And I know it’s your favorite too.” You said as you wrapped your arms around Chanyeol’s shoulders, giving him a sweet peck on the lips.

“Ewww not in front of my pizza.” Your son said in disgust, making you both laugh as you all ate, enjoying this sweet moment as a family.

Chanyeol sat up with a start, feeling disoriented. He looked around and saw he was still in his studio. He must have dozed off when he was finishing the song he was working on. He shook his head and took a long sip of water, trying to shake away the memory of the dream he had. What was more disturbing is the feeling that was lingering in his stomach. What the hell did that dream mean? Why the fuck did he have that kind of dream? And with you? He saved the progress on the song in his computer and whipped his phone out, scrolling through his contacts. Once he found the name he was looking for, he sent out a message.

Hey hot stuff, can I come over?

He got up and grabbed a condom from his drawer. He didn’t bother to wait for a reply, knowing what this girls answer was going to be.

Previous �� Next

#chanyeol smut #chanyeol angst #chanyeol #kpop #exo #kpopsmut #smut #nct #nct127 #nct smut #multiau #multi fandom

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phroyd · 6 years ago

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In what follows, I will be assuming that you are a person who wants to see Bernie Sanders elected President of the United States. If this is not something you want, this discussion will be of little value.

The task itself is clear and has two parts: At the Democratic convention in July of 2020, Bernie Sanders needs to be the nominated as the party’s candidate for president. Then, on November 3, 2020, Bernie Sanders needs to receive 270 electoral votes.

Personally, I think Part II will be easier than Part I, because in Part II Bernie Sanders has the luxury of running against a cartoon of an evil billionaire. This will “play to his strengths.” I think watching a debate between Bernie Sanders and Donald Trump will be an immensely satisfying experience, and that the people of Pennsylvania, Michigan, Ohio, and Wisconsin will be moved by Bernie’s comprehensive agenda for dealing with their day-to-day problems. I believe they will reject Donald Trump, because Donald Trump offers nothing but bigotry and bluster, and no one really likes or trusts him the way they like and trust Bernie.

How, then, do we make sure that he gets the Democratic nomination, and how do we do it without him having to destroy his body in the process by working himself to death?

First, let’s recognize: If you support Bernie, and really want to overthrow Trump, you have a job to do. The next year is going to be a busy one, and the next few months will be the busiest of all. Your job is to get as many people as possible to vote for Bernie Sanders, because the more you do on that front, the less of his finite energy he has to spend shouting himself hoarse at rallies in a cornfield outside Des Moines in the middle of January. Bernie should not need to be personally lobbying every voter in Iowa, because that’s what his supporters are for. That’s what you and I are for.

To understand the nature of the job ahead, it is helpful to keep in mind the distinction between mobilizing and organizing (see this interview with Jane McAlevey for more). Mobilizing is when you turn out those who already believe in a cause (all the antiwar people go to a protest). Organizing is when you go out and build the cause, converting people who did not already believe in it. So, what labor organizers do is: They find all the people at the workplace who do not believe in the union, or who are even vehemently against it, and they do the very slow and difficult work of bringing them on board, through long, empathetic conversations and by building relationships.

Think, then, of the entire universe of people you know who will be (or could be) eligible to vote in the 2020 Democratic primary. How many of them are you certain will vote for Bernie Sanders? The job ahead is to shift as many people from the “Don’t know” or “No” column on your sheet to the “Yes” column. (You can even make an actual list of this universe of people. And it should be the entire universe—coworkers, friends, second cousins, a person you met at a car show once but haven’t spoken to in four years.)

Now, what lies ahead involves both mobilizing and organizing. For the people who are already Bernie Sanders supporters, the job is to: (1) Make sure they are registered to vote and satisfy the eligibility requirements and (2) Make sure they actually do vote. Every time you successfully convince someone to support Bernie Sanders, you then have to switch from persuasion/organizing to activation/mobilizing. Supporting him in their brain means nothing without action. They might as well not support him at all. You’ve wasted your time unless they register to vote and actually do vote.

The success of Bernie Sanders is going to require a “nonvoter revolution.” His appeal is, in large part, not to party loyalists, but to the 70+ percent of people who did not vote in the primaries last time (and the nearly 40 percent of people who did not vote in the general election). These are the types of disillusioned voters my colleague Malaika Jabali has written about so well in “The Color of Economic Anxiety,” people who quite rightly and rationally do not see much point in voting and feel betrayed by politicians who make grand promises and deliver nothing.

Part of your job, then, is to convince jaded nonvoters that Bernie’s candidacy is worth believing in, and then getting them to actually cast a ballot. For nonvoters, this is especially urgent, because many states disenfranchise people by setting absurdly early registration deadlines for voting in primaries. If someone is unregistered, or registered as a Republican, you need to get them signed up now.

Here it’s important to discuss what it means to “get” someone to vote for Bernie Sanders. It does not mean being an obnoxious evangelist who never shuts up about Bernie. In fact, one of the most important aspects of the Sanders campaign is that it isn’t about Bernie, it’s about ordinary people and their problems. A main part of persuasion is going to involve being an empathetic listener rather than a preacher. This is supposed to be the campaign that listens, the one that actually cares what people think. Notice that the most effective Bernie ads barely feature Bernie at all: They feature people talking about their struggles, the kind of people Bernie’s presidency is going to help.

Long, difficult conversations. That’s what will be involved a lot of the time. You have to try to show another person why you feel so strongly that a Sanders presidency is important, and to have them come to share your perspective, but doing so will involve making sure you understand theirs as well. I think it is very important here not to be an uncritical adulator of Bernie Sanders. Frankly, there are votes he has made that I think are indefensible, and I find him frequently frustrating and in constant need of pressure from activists. I believe in his candidacy because I think he is the only person with anything close to a set of solutions to the problems people face today.

Know the issues, know the plans, try to figure out how to articulate why you feel so strongly the way you do. Those people in the video: Why is it that they trust Bernie so much? What is it that they see in him and in his campaign? What is it that Erica Garner saw in Bernie? (She, too, gave herself a heart attack as she fought tirelessly for justice.) What was it that felt so beautiful about the “America” ad? I think it had something to do with the uncommon and genuine respect that Bernie Sanders has for ordinary working people and the bitter contempt he has for those who dare to speak in the name of those people while betraying their interests.

Nobody should be written off immediately. It frequently turns out that the people who seem most resistant to persuasion, if you find the right “in road,” will eventually become some of the strongest supporters, if you give them a good reason. Political conversions happen every day, even of the most extreme kinds. (Take, for instance, that young white supremacist who slowly unlearned his hatred after spending time around anti-racists in college.) Of course, you need to prioritize your limited time. There are three categories of people:

People who like Bernie already and support him. — They need to be convinced to actually vote, and you need to make sure they are eligible. Then they, too, need to start working on doing exactly what you’re doing. Convince them to get active and to get others active. (It’s not a pyramid scheme, but it does take the shape of a pyramid, hah.)

People who are indifferent or don’t care about politics. — Why don’t they care about politics? What do they feel it’s not offering them? What would they want out of a president? You will do a lot more listening than talking, at least at first. (In fact, you may want to keep in mind Noam Chomsky’s point that you should be cautious about the entire idea of “persuading” people, because what you really want is for them to figure things out for themselves.)

People who dislike or despise Bernie. — Former Clinton people. Republicans. Etc. These will be far tougher conversations. But you can have them. Try very hard not to get upset. Be patient. Present your perspective rather than arguing. I think there is some truth to the fact that many Sanders supporters have been too hostile online. We need to see every person as a potential Sanders voter, and as such be careful not to needlessly antagonize them. Look at the case of Peter Daou. A die-hard Hillary supporter in 2016, one of Bernie’s fiercest critics, he has now come around. If this can happen to Peter Daou, then we do not know who else it could happen to. So don’t make fun of people and get them defensive and hostile. Set an example. Listen the way Bernie Sanders does when confronted by people who disagree. Bernie has made a commitment to listening to Trump voters and trying patiently to bring them around to a democratic socialist perspective. He goes on FOX and Joe Rogan, and he does well. (Look at the comments section on the Rogan video, people who disliked him come to see him as reasonable and honest.) Think strategically about everything: Is the way I am talking to this person increasing or decreasing the chance they will vote for Bernie Sanders? That is the question for the next few months. Bernie’s army of supporters must be disciplined and effective. No needless flame wars, no pointless hostility. We have a positive vision and we need others to share in it.

What I have been talking about so far is stuff you can do even if you can’t afford to donate $27, or can’t go knocking on doors or putting in signs or do phone banking. It is something you can do in day to day interactions with people around you. But of course, if you do have time and money, there is more. Get your ass off Twitter and get on a bus to Iowa or South Carolina. Sign up to volunteer wherever you are already. Put in a regular monthly donation. Get that sticker onto your car and that shirt onto your torso. The clock is ticking. There are novel ways that people can pitch in—that incredible ad contrasting media perspectives with “real America’s” perspectives? It was made by a fan, not the campaign. That fan made a choice: to use his time and skills and creativity to make something inspiring and effective.

There is another important thing you can do for Bernie Sanders: Work for candidates who are not Bernie Sanders. Remember: This movement is not about Bernie. It is about advancing a strong set of social democratic policies that will make this country and the world a better place. That cannot be done without having many more lefties in Congress and it state and municipal governments. There are all kinds of incredible candidates running at every level. Check out these lists for people in your area. I’ve recently met great candidates like Marguerite Green, a DSA member running for Agriculture Commissioner in Louisiana, and Rebecca Parson, running for Congress in Washington, who deserve your support. If Shahid Buttar can win in San Francisco, it will totally transform Democratic politics. These candidates will never be able to build the kind of giant grassroots fundraising apparatus that Bernie has, so you should not donate to Bernie without donating to candidates like these as well. These campaigns need you. They are very difficult uphill battles, working with very few resources. Your participation makes a giant difference. But they can win, as Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez showed us when she defeated a 10-term high-ranking incumbent who had millions more dollars. At the DSA convention, I met socialist candidates who had won all over the country, even in very hostile districts. It is possible.

Of course, if you have the time and energy yourself, you might consider running yourself. Even a seat on the local library board or school board can help. The left ideally needs a presence in every race, red states as well as blue. This is not the “Bernie Sanders campaign.” It is a rising movement of the American left that, with thought and effort, can create a genuine “political revolution.” A Bernie Sanders presidency is an important part of that, but it’s only the very beginning. The next year could reshape American politics completely, or it could end in the demoralizing reelection of Donald Trump. Which path it takes depends on what we choose to do right now.

Phroyd

#bernie sanders #election2020

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sophocused · 6 years ago

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uni recap 2019

I think it's really important for young studyblrs still in high school or junior high to be exposed to more detailed and honest uni experience anecdotes, so buckle up because it’s about to get real honest and a little personal in here.

I'm in the middle of the fall term of my second uni year, technically now in the 2nd year of my general B.Sc. and I need to start from the beginning a little bit, especially when it comes to my academic journey so far.

Let's start with junior high, when adults always want to ask what you want to be when you grow up. After going to a career symposium with friends, a field trip run by the school, that's when I heard about the College of Pharmacy at the "top" university of the province.

First thing that attracted me was that they make an annual $100k a year, and to my 14 year old impressionable mind that was convinced that my future had to revolve around making bank, I decided from there that I would work towards the end goal of becoming a pharmacist.

I was convinced that pharmacy was the ultimate goal to get my life going, as a real functioning adult of society.

Fortunately, I was wrong. It was a hard pill to swallow, but a necessary one nonetheless.

Since this is an academic recap, I won't bring up the mental health and physical health bits of the last eight years of my life, I'll fastforward to high school senior year, when I decided I would (as a minimal effort-get straight A's student) actually TRY in my studies again. It was because my work ethic had grown to a point that when I didn't try and still got a B or A, I was scared of the moment I would actually try and then not get an A or A+. I wanted to fight that fear of realizing that I'm not "effortlessly good at thngs" because I didnt want to have a fear of failure.

(Disclaimer: it's been three years since then and I'm still a work in progress when it comes to my relationship with failures but it is getting consistently healthier, despite bumps)

Thus, I started this studyblr three years ago, June 30th 2016 I believe?? My url was chemystery for the first few days but sophocused came up because of sophocles (not that hes my fave philosopher or anything) it just stuck ANYWAY IM GETTING DISTRACTED

So I actually tried in my last year of high school, worked hard and got A's in physics, pre-calculus, and AP chemistry. The AP chemistry came with a provincial exam, that in getting a score of 4, granted me a $150 reward, and the grade of a B in two university courses (2 chem prerequisites)

I was a fool and no one exactly explained to me that those 2 courses were even harder when taught through uni, because I really wasted nearly $1000 in taking those two courses again in my first year of uni, in hopes of turning them into A's.

I should probably mention that going into uni, the pharmacy program had 2 chem, 2 bio, 1 calc, 1 written course, and 2 electives, as prerequisites. My innocent mind, thinking it wouldn't be a big deal, registered for a full five and five course load, so that I could finish all my prerequisites within my first year of uni, and apply for the college of pharmacy by March. (Back then, it was still a Bachelor's program where selection process depended on your AGPA, and your mark on a written critical skills essay)

I learned the hard way that for university, it is a mentally and emotionally laborious task to try and juggle five classes, having to hold yourself accountable when it comes to attendance and figuring out what notes you want to take. There's no way to write physical hand-written notes for five courses (not for me anyway).

It was incredibly fast-paced as well, and I had many days where I just didn't want to get out of bed. I was so conflicted with my perfectionist mindset, and the pressure to get a 4.0 GPA that I spread myself so thin and honestly it was one of the most difficult years of my life. I still got out with 8 B's and 2 A's by the end of my first year. I was ashamed of those B's.

When it came to applying for pharmacy however, despite the grades I got, my GPA didn't make it to the minimum 3.50 needed to be applicable for pharmacy, but I got my transcript a month after I had already applied for pharmacy and I had even done the written exam.

I had to face my first big failure which was getting the email that they couldnt even look over or consider my application because my GPA did not reach the minimum required.

On top of that, I learned that I could not just simply try again the next year. This was because suddenly, the university decided they were going to change the Bachelors pharmacy program into a PharmD. A doctorate. To me, that meant they added eight more prerequisites (even more difficult uni courses with chem and human phys), and a required PCAT score. We also were not allowed to apply until Fall 2020. That meant, I now suddenly had no plan for my academic career for the next two years because I had really only ever thought about getting into pharmacy on the first try.

After a breakdown or two last year upon processing this, I had made the decision and talked to my parents about trying for it again, and doing the new prerequisites. This brought in the new mental turmoil of money on my mind during my summer after first year of uni, thousands of dollars this would cost, suddenly having no routine for four months after working at max brain capacity for 6 months.

My 2nd year of uni, fall 2018, a lot of growing had happened, a lot of processing of failure happened, just. a lot. happened.

October 2018, I got a job at a school, so I really juggled my school stuff with work. Five days a week, I would be up at 6-7am and then get home around 6:30pm, while doing human physiology, organic chemistry 1, an eastern religions elective, and an intro to statistics course.

long story short, yes I must spare you the details of the process of it all because it got pretty sad. That was my worst uni term, ending with 1 B, 1 C+, 1 C, and an F in organic chem.

My first F in university. My first F ever in my entire school life. It was a begrudging blow at my mental state, and I spent two to three weeks devastated. I dont know how I got out of it, I think one day I just said to myself, "Okay you got an F, but did you die?"

Honestly, the humour in that really cheered me up, among other things, and the emotional support I got from my older sister, and by the time I got into the 2nd half of my uni year (right now), I have discovered I potentially have a calling to become a teacher or to work in the lab as a technician.

Most importantly, most if not all of the credits I've earned, are also applicable to get into the Faculty of Education. Basically, I came to peace with having options, and digging deep into myself to really find the thing that I could really see myself doing based on my personality and interests, not just on the money and the rush of finishing school.

I just finished the longest midterm season of winter 2019, with my first midterm being early February and my last midterm + essay deadline on March 15th... I did well. I did well in trying to really take care of myself while trying to go to every class and trying to work hard as much as I could everyday. I think out of my many midterms, I got 1 A, 4 B's, and a C. These are all salvageable. I do still really want to keep working towards a 4.5 GPA but now I'm okay if that doesnt always turn out to be what I get.

Anyway I finally get to write something like this because I've been busy for the past month, a lot of things happened again in the midst of it all, but I'm still okay. I get a week to rest before my lab exam and then it's finals season.

This time, I'll try hard not to just let my life pass me by, with only ever school and academics in mind, I had gotten really sad these past few weeks, and I'm usually good at being my own antidote for that, but I really got to a point where I felt I had no strength to pick myself back up.

Last night I said "fuck it" and decided to go to my cousin's house who I hadn't seen in over a month to spend time with them instead of working on my 30% essay due midnight. Before I was so desperate to finish it, terrified of the 2% deduction per day it would be late, but after crying on the bus, I had had enough of letting my academics bring this much weight on my mental health. After spending four hours with my cousins and aunt, I came home to my mom, and I watched a two hour movie with her.

I didn't regret it one bit. I felt better than I had in a long, long while.

Now, this Friday, my grandma and other cousin are flying in, and I cant wait to just keep healing.

Thank you for reading, or scanning over, I hope you got something good out of this, as I am telling this story both for my sake, and for other students’ who might commonly find themselves in the same boat. I believe in you.

#nina rambles #march 17 2019 #happy st. patrick's day #studyblr #studyblr tips #uni studyblr #university stories #university ramble #uni student #uni diaries #college struggles #uni struggles

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agustdef · 6 years ago

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Here & Now - Chapter 1

Pairing: Yoongi x OC

Genre: Fluff; Chill romance

Word Count: 1,963

Warning: None.

Banner Marker: @dee-ehn

Author’s Note: This is my first time posting fanfic so I hope it’s alright. I’m going to try and update at least once a week.

"Kendall!" The shrill voice barely registered through the music blasting through my ears. Pausing the track I pushed off my headphones and turned around. I was met with my friend, Matthew, glaring me down.

"Can I help you?"

He rolled his eyes, plopping onto the couch next to my work station.

"You've been ignoring emails, calls, and texts all day. You know those time-sensitive ones that need responses asap."

"Oh calm down, I still have ti..." My voice trailed off when I glanced at the clock on the wall. Four thirty flashed at I'd realized eight hours had passed since I'd come in, instead of the three I'd thought it to be.

"You would think that Ana bringing you the breakfast you ordered and then the lunch from the meeting we had would tip you off. Sometimes you worry me, Kendall. Your brain still working?" Matthew was clearly amused.

My mouth opened and closed, not one comeback surfacing. If I was honest he wasn't wrong, per se. Often when focused on a task it felt like my brain refused to function beyond that. Nothing else mattered and it would last for hours, or days like it did that one time where production deadlines were pushed up from a week out to four days. It didn't help that my sense of time regardless of what I was doing.

"Shut up. Just tell me why you're here."

Matthew being the jerk he is just continued to smile at me, languishing in my annoyed state. He enjoyed rendering my speechless way too much. I think it was because it was the only time he could win against me.

When minutes passed and silence became too much I grabbed a crumpled wrapper from my desk and launched it at his face. His arms waved about in a panicked manner as if he hadn't watched the trash sail through the air and into his face.

"Chop, chop I have things to do."

Picking up the wrapper he launched it back at me, missing by a foot. He seemed less than pleased, but didn't grab anything else to complete his retaliation.

"As I was saying," he huffed, "you've not answered anything all day. There's some stuff double checking sessions, post-production information, two tracks you need to look over, some requests. Oh and obviously that thing from Hals."

"I dare you to call her that to her face."

"What? No. We're not close and that would be weird." His cheeks turned red and he glanced everywhere but at me.

It was so cute. "Your crush is showing."

"I don't have a crush. She's not my type." He scoffed.

It was my turn to scoff and to roll my eyes. I had no clue why he always used that as an excuse. "It's perfectly healthy to acknowledge that even though you are not attracted to female and femme people that they are attractive. Don't know why you weirdos fail to understand you can appreciate a person's beauty without having a thing for them."

Matthew groaned, throwing himself back against the couch. No doubt he was tired of having that conversation with me, but I needed him to get it together. Nothing about being flustered about someone's level of attractiveness meant that you were something you weren't.

Another dramatic sigh from him and he sat up again. "Anyways... you should get those out of the way and then go home. Seeing as I know you have a full day for both your jobs tomorrow. And because you're only here working on your own stuff and not for a client."

Arguments presented themselves in my head, but none of the came out. I was in no mood to back and forth with him all day. Plus, he wasn't wrong yet again. I'd finished working on a song for an upcoming album an hour after I arrived and had only been emptying my head of all the beats locked in there. They tended to be like plot bunnies and those rarely left my head unless I gave them some attention.

"Better idea. I go home and answer the emails." He went to interrupt me, but I held up a finger. "With the promise of getting it all done by seven thirty and sending you images of my empty inbox. As well as the sent box."

For a second he stared me down, eyes narrowed. You could see the gears turning in his head and it almost looked like he'd say no.

"Okay. Go straight home and get it done. I will let myself in if none of that is done and will micromanage the whole process."

He stood and so did I, move in for a hug.

"And stop blocking Marcus when he annoys you. He, your agent, shouldn't have to send me to tell you this stuff," he said as he pulled away.

"Will do."

With one parting glare he left the studio, leaving me to myself. For a moment I just stood there, tired washing over me as I finally realized how long I'd been awake. The night was spent pumping out a scene that had come just as REM sleep was hitting and I'd only gotten about an hour and a half before coming in. I'd knock out the moment I got home if I had my way, but I had stuff to do. So much stuff.

Taking a deep breath I pushed a stray braid behind my ear and got to work cleaning up. Most of the stuff was sitting piled neatly together, so I shoved it into the trash can. Once the bag was tied and next to my door I replaced it and gathered my other stuff. I'd left my laptop at home, so I just shoved my notebooks into my bag along with my chargers. After sending myself everything and saving it in a million different locations I shut it all done and left.

A few people were heading out with me, the workday finishing for everyone. We all nodded in greeting, but thankfully no one stopped to chat. By the time I reached the exit the Uber I ordered awaited me outside and I hopped in. The universe had to love me because besides a greeting my college-age driver didn't say a word to me.

On the ride home I skimmed my emails via phone and noticed that a lot of them weren't even that pressing. Most were just quick things that I could answer right then and there. And of course there was the email from Halsey, but I already knew what it had to say and I didn't have the information she needed with me. As I sifted through the emails about wanting to work with me I saw one that was interesting, but before I could open it we came to a stop.

Glancing up I noticed we were at my building and got out with a quick bye. Walking in I waved at the woman at the security desk and ran to the elevator whose doors were closing quickly. I just barely slid through, hurting my hip a little from it hitting it.

"Shit."

Rubbing it only irritated the area and I was sure I'd have a light bruise by morning. Why I continued to try and squeeze my hips through things knowing that there wasn't enough room I was unsure. One day I would learn. Though probably not.

By the time I reached the inside of my apartment the throbbing had dulled a bit, but increased in frequency. Reaching down to take off my shoes at the door was no, so I had to kick them haphazardly onto the rack.

As I assumed I felt the urge to face plant onto my couch or bed upon entry, but I fought it off. I needed to eat and handle the emails, but I'd drift the moment my fingers stopped typing. So, I rushed to the bathroom, stripped and hopped into the shower. The scorching heat put some pep into me and made me forget all about those articles that said overtly hot showers were bad for you.

Fifteen minutes later I emerged refreshed and with wet braids. Putting on my shower cap was an option but my box braids were almost done for and I couldn't be bothered to try and protect them.

Once I was dry and dressed in a too big shirt and cotton booty shorts I moved to my studio. For a second I thought about working on the track I started at the office, but I knew that I'd spend all my time doing that and only that. It almost sent me out of the studio and took the office I had set up in the spare room, but I needed a lesson in self-control.

Booting everything up I absentmindedly fiddled with the rubix cube I kept on the desk, but never actually tried to solve. After a few seconds, the silence got to me.

"Alexa."

The device glowed from where it was placed on a shelf in the corner.

"Play Always and Forever playlist."

Several seconds later she complied and HyunA's Cause I'm God Girl came on. A smile formed as I hummed along to the song. It was one of my favorites by her. Working with her was still on my goal board and it felt so close and yet so far.

Finally, my computer was ready to go, so I logged in and ignored the call that the icon for my software put out. There was one mission and one mission only. The same urge came when I logged in and saw the copy of the chapter I'd finished sitting in my inbox, but I ignored that as well.

"Focus ya weirdo."

I sped through the rest of the easier emails and forwarded the ones that requested me to work with them to Marcus with a yay or nay. It was technically his job to look and then show me the options, but I preferred to see them myself first.

When I reached Halsey email I almost rolled my eyes, a small laugh at her overly sweet wording. Though cute it made me question if I was being buttered up for something, since she tended to do that when she knew I wouldn't agree or that I was on the fence.

By the time I'd sent her over the tracks similar to what she was looking for, some files of vocals she'd done when I worked with her before and my schedule for the next month my speakers went through two other songs and was playing BTS' Baepsae.

Everything else was taken care of, which left the email I'd seen while in the car. Its subject line was normal, giving nothing away but something about it just felt different. Opening it up the difference jumped out immediately. Korean filled the screen and for a moment my brain shut down. After a deep breath, my eyes scanned the text, slowly decoding what it said. I tripped here and there, because even after ten years of learning it sometimes words were forgotten.

At the end I felt like I'd read the entire thing wrong, my chest was moving rapidly and I didn't know if I should be excited or if this was some cruel joke. Once the Korean stopped English started, all of it relaying what I'd just read. I frantically read until the completion, looking for the words that had sent me into a tizzy and there they were.

Our artist and producer SUGA/Min Yoongi would like it very much if you consider his offer to work together.

J-Hope finished out Baepsae just as I slumped in my chair.

"Holy shit."

#min yoongi #yoongi #suga #bts #original character #suga x oc #oc #yoongi x oc #bts fanfic #fanfiction #bts fan fiction #producer!oc #writer!oc #yoongi fanfic #suga fanfic #kpop #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic

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cozysafechaotic · 7 years ago

Text

Here, have some more Patton Angst!

loosely based off this art, and set in my Fluffy Fuchsia famILY universe (shush, there’s two parts so now its a universe,)

The Ao3 link! Part the First: Hot Chocolate, Disney Movies and Blanket Forts

warnings: Deceit is in this fic, there’s some self deprecating thoughts, yelling, implications of throwing things, some cursing, no real happy ending

the playlist mentioned, should you be interested. (content warning: its a lot. some of it is soothing, some of it is heavy rock. there is plenty cursing. it is designed to numb your brain when its too loud.)

The Actual fic:

Moonlight poured through the open windows as the cold air blew the curtains around, the sound of his Auditory Anesthesia playlist pounding in his ears as Patton lay curled on the bed. He rubbed his hand across his chest, pressing with the palm of his hand as if the pressure could ease the deep ache that had settled there. He let out a broken sigh as his lower lip trembled and his eyes watered.

His hands moved to his hair, fisting the strands and tugging hard to fight the pressure and emptiness inside his skull. This had been building for days and he’d done everything he could to try to combat it, but it hadn’t been enough. He hadn’t been enough.

He felt his throat start to close and the tightness in his chest increased as the tears began to spill down his cheeks, his teeth sinking into his lower lip as he fought to remain quiet. He couldn’t make any sound, couldn’t let the others hear him, couldn’t let anyone know. They counted in him. He was the pillar people relied on, but who would trust a pillar that was crumbling?

No one. That’s who.

And if no one could rely on him, then no one would turn to him. And if no one would turn to mom, then what point did he have?

He was Papa Patton. Someone to be a father figure, someone to rely on, to lean on, to gather strength from. And if no one came to him anymore…

Patton shook his head. He was spiraling. He needed to stop. His hands tangled in his hair again, pulling harder as the ache in his chest pulsated again. It felt like a black hole, sucking all that he was away. He was just so empty.

This week, this month, this entire year had been so draining. November was almost over, and Thanksgiving had finally passed, but that meant Christmas was just around the corner. All that time with family and friends and mow gifts were going to be expected.

Beyond that, it felt like everyone had been having an awful day.

Thomas had spent the day calming down four different friends. Bringing them out of spirals and encouraging them, even spending thirty minutes on the phone, sacrificing his own well-being as he tried his best not to disturb the other people in the house by standing outside in the cold.

Logan was stressed over deadlines and overworking himself, the task of pulling him away and monitoring him falling on Patton’s shoulders.

Roman was constantly producing ideas but was struggling to fully follow through. Between constantly doubting the value of his ideas and fleeting motivation, the house was piled with half-finished projects.

The other’s stress plus the social drain of the holiday season led to Virgil being more and more on edge. His dark bean was barely even eating anymore, stress churning in his stomach.

With everyone stressed as all get out, no one wanted to admit it, which meant a lot of lying. So poor Dee was around a lot. All of their lying and then the constant distrust meant Dee was living with constant migraines and fighting tears. That combined with the cold weather meant lots of cuddles and soup making.

But hey, if Patton was comforting everyone else, no one would realize he was hurting, right? Right. No one realized. Or maybe, no one cared. Maybe he was only worth their attention when they needed his. Patton shook his head vigorously and clutched his arms tight around his body as a sob wracked his frame.

He needed to get out. His room was amplifying his emotions and not a one of them were positive just now.

Patton hurriedly sunk out of his room, appearing in the living room and dropping to his knees curling in around himself as he bit into his fist to try to silence the sobs that threatened to spill from his lips.

He didn’t know when he’d fallen asleep but the next thing he knew, Logan and Roman’s voices were echoing down the stairway and into the living room. Patton curled tighter into himself as he registered the sounds of an argument.

The two stood screaming at each other, carrying the fight from the living room into the kitchen and Patton remained the unseen witness, biting into his hand again as silent tears streamed down his face.

Before long, Virgil’s voice was joining the fray and Patton began warring with the need to fill his role and keep the peace and his desire to just fade from existence.

The shouting escalated in the kitchen as things were being slammed. Then Thomas was popping up to complain about the headache they were giving him and if Patton hadn’t been crying before, he certainly was now. He was barely conscious of the fact that he was being pulled into someone’s lap as he fought to muffle sobs at the thought that he had so utterly failed his host.

Through the fog of his mind, he heard Thomas wonder where he was, Virgil chiming in to say that if anyone would have settled things, it’d be him. The small smile that had begun to form on his face disappeared instantly, washed away in a fresh flood of tears as both Logan and Roman shouted about how they didn’t need Patton.

“Maybe not, but he needs you.”

Dee’s quiet statement echoed loudly in the sudden silence that had followed the shouts.

“What in Narnia are you doing here?”

“Your lies are not welcome here.”

“What the tuck did you do to Patton!”

“What do you mean?”

All four shouted simultaneously and Deceit merely held the sobbing side closer to him as he leveled a glare at the others. “You’ve been so busy seeking comfort from your own Code Orange’s that you failed to see where anyone else is.” The others had the decency to look guilty. “He’s been Fuchsia for weeks now and he’s been lying here sobbing for the last hour while you lot fought over who knows what!”

“Oh gods.” Roman’s voice cracked as he dropped to his knees, hand over his mouth. Virgil and Thomas were across the room and in front of Patton, whispering apologies.

“Patton, why?” Logan’s voice brokenly asked. “Why would you insist we use a system to let each other know if you weren’t going to use it?”

“If I…” Patton sobbed as he tore himself from Dee’s grasp and pulled himself to his feet, arms held wide from his body. “If I wasn’t going to tell?” Patton’s voice cracked as he weakly yelled, gesturing at there’d shirt he was wearing and the thick red marker lines spelling ‘help’ running over his arms. “What if you’d bothered to fucking pay attention? I fix and fix and fix and fix and give, give, give and you don’t care. I wrote these with Roman’s marker, while he sat facing me. I passed out from exhaustion on the floor in your room Logan!”

Patton’s, hands tore at his hair again, gasping for breath as he collapsed onto his knees. “No no no no no nonononono… I’m sorry... sorry sorry sososorry..” Patton sobbed as he curled into himself. Dee quickly wrapped his arms around him as Virgil and Thomas carefully pulled his hands from his hair.

“Patton breathe.” Logan’s hands settled over his thighs, tapping out a slow, steady rhythm as Roman carefully transported them to his room, changing it to a large nest of blankets and pillows.

Dee carefully twisted Patton’s body to lay solidly against him as all the others curled around each other, tears pouring from each of their eyes as sheet emotional exhaustion hit them all.

Dee carefully hooked his pinky with Patton’s, pressing a gentle kiss to his hair and quietly whispering “We’re here. You’re safe.” As Patton’s body succumbed to the exhaustion, tears still rolling down his face.

#familial calmdt/lampdt #sympathetic deceit #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #patton angst #tori's writing

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