#i cam do the fun picking part but i hate picks with a passion n didnt want to so. easy version

[sweet--child-o-mine]

wish you were here // pink floyd

[thestudyfeels]

How To NOT Be Depressed.

(Or If You Prefer — How to Be Substantially Happy About Life.) 

WARNING: This is one rollercoaster ride of a post. Proceed with extreme caution. For some, the staggering levels of insight may induce true purpose and re-establish their warrior spirit. For others, side effects may include grammatically incorrect hate or aloof eyerolls. We advise exiting if the said group includes you, for we're very tired of cleaning vomit off the seats.

Step aboard at your own risk.

If you’re one of the brave souls who stayed back to join us, I congratulate you for even I am scared of how crazy this post truly is. Alrighty then, kick back and relax folks, today we’re having a mature, adult conversation. Merely another cheery afternoon spent talking about life and its realities. Not too bad, eh?

Before we begin, spoiler alert! For those of you already turned off by the mention of 'depression’ and packing their bunnies to leave, sit tight. This ISN'T really about depression. This is about HAPPINESS. No clickbait. That got your attention, right butterfly? Nice, now stay.

A welcoming, maybe demanding A/N: Do me a favor and read this in one go. Maybe even plug in those headphones and listen to the songs dedicated to each part as you read. It's long, you have the new Riverdale episode to catch up on, but don't hop away just yet because (I had a couple moments writing this, alright) it's life changing. You'll prolly cry a few tears of realization, nod all nod-able body parts in agreement, beat your chest at random instants 'cause the hype’s too real, and perhaps, if it isn’t too much to hope for, finally go change your life for the better. In case you've forgotten, this'll remind you that there’s always hope, that you're a born conqueror, and you were made to THRIVE, not survive. Convinced? Kay, roll the cams.

   To clarify first-hand, no, I'm not depressed although I’ve experienced mild depression for a period before. Glad to say I'm out of it but I still struggle with tackling what I'm about to detail next.

Insert bitter voice, it’s this: My life is nowhere near I want it to be. Though I know vaguely what I wanna do, I haven't yet figured out how the hell I’m supposed to get there, or how my dream life is to be sketched out. It’s all a blurry mess. Which, to put it bluntly, hurts. I HATE feeling powerless and worthless, roaming about aimlessly.

There are many such moments where I hit the brakes to wonder why I’m not living THE Life already. There have been several times when I curl up and cry a frickin’ Amazon. There are horrible nights where I'm shaking with emotions, but they won't release, leaving me choked. (…not in that way, you hoes. Um, just ruined the dramatic mood with a lame dirty joke, sorry.)

   They say talking helps and that's why I figured I'd drop in. But perhaps more importantly, I wanted to hang because no matter how unfocused the lens may seem at my future, I don't consider myself a dopey loser incapable of the crazy dreams or wild bucket lists I fantasize about– and I thought I'd skip along to remind you that neither should you. (Or maybe I just came to sniff the new appetizers, who knows?)

PS: I also broke a sweat listing six ways to get outta depression– alternatively, to be more of a conqueror– because y'all are always pestering me with asks that go “how do I conquer omg send supplies” (Like, imagine a conqueror saying that! Oh, the crime, the atrocity!)

So yes, you're welcome. Have a feast with this litness.  

The main reason behind people being so frightfully sad, I’ve found, is a huge lack of fulfillment. We don't do what we love, for either— [ 1 ] we aren’t living life the way we want to (since we keep doing things we feel we're supposed to do) OR [ 2 ] because Mama, Papa and Mrs. Carter next door feel that struggling is the only way, and project their traditional beliefs onto us. Either way, whether or not we consciously realize this, subconsciously, we're all hurting because of it. Badly.

That lingering feeling of emptiness never seems to leave. You feel drained every night when you drop into bed, not because you gave it your all, but because you couldn't. And so, we do the next best thing. Drugs. Maybe not literally, but figuratively. We numb out this subconscious pain by binge watching Netflix shows. We deaden ourselves to that discomfort by reading smut in the bathroom or by playing dumb video games all day. We try (and fail) to extinguish this feeling of not ‘being enough’ by having silly flings or fake friendships.

And ultimately, we NUMB ourselves out to LIFE for we can't bear to live the way we're living. There's a reason why “How to Stop Procrastinating” posts are so popular (they’re a blogger’s most foolproof way of paying the month’s rent, and yes, even I'm guilty of a couple). We’re constantly having FOMO and tuning into others' highlights on social media– completely missing out on our own lives in the process. We fail to realize that the culprit is lack of genuine purpose more than zero self-control (or maybe it’s both, but that’s a tale for another day).

[On a side note, obviously I did generalize a bit– video games can be a passion for you, watching shows a way of winding down. But for most, they’re only DISTRACTIONS, just another way of ignoring the calls of life by hanging up the phone.]

   And here's the bitter truth about depression: The longer you wait to start living authentically, the more you start tuning out the inner cries wanting change, the faster your dreams start to ebb away, and the more you'll want to become insignificant. And to me, that's the scariest part of this journey to my dream life.

Nothing frightens me more than knowing that the moment I stop pushing, the very moment I give in to distractions and fears, my goals will stop manifesting themselves and I'll be stuck in this small town with its small people eternally. And THAT, I'm certain, won't be any more fun than working your way through a soggy ham sandwich, ironic as soggy is what life has become. (Yes, I have a thing against soggy sandwiches. They were a kid's worst lunch nightmare.)

   If you relate, and I’m sure you do (it’s probably why you stopped scrolling through cheesy fanfic for ten minutes to read this, I know you amigo) — here are six ways to NOT be depressed. Or more accurately, to gift wrap yourself some sweet ol’ happiness.

You're a Samurai and the Following Be Your Katanas —

Hol’ up. The second you reach the End Card, I want you to drop your Cheerios and implement at least THREE of these six strategies. Just follow the Takeaways, I've made this really simple. And as a rule, one of them has to be this one. (Look, don't whine. If you wanna climb outta that dark hole, you gotta put in some effort. So pop that booty, and let’s get down to business!)

Here’s the most truthful, though cheesy thing I’ll ever say: I would be nowhere I am today without this blog. If not for it, I would most likely be weeping in a dug-out hole somewhere, drowning in my salty little pond of tears and chiming every loser’s favorite words (“there's no point”). Creating this blog gave me a definite purpose – putting out fiery content, dipping myself deep into my newly found passion for writing and influencing, and connecting with other conquerors on the platform.  

I meet a lot of folks, whether at Sad School, Mouldy Mall, or Boring Bus stop, who always seem to be in a state of death-inducing boredom. When asked about their favorite thing to do, they’ll mumble “sleep” or “food” like Siri narrating your cat’s evening routine. And then you see adults, dragging through life mindlessly. Utterly clueless, floating like a piece of driftwood in an ocean bubbling with life. My sympathy quota gets overdosed everytime I think about it.

   To spell it out, find something to do. Anything! Learn a language, try some ballet, take pictures of your neighbor's rose garden, make an art piece and show it to your mom, stitch buttons onto shirts for fun, heck, make an entire shirt out of buttons, take a break from reading smut to write your own, frutify your farts, WHATEVER, just get up and move.

And here’s why – nay, not to keep you engaged or make you feel less worthless, not that bullcrap. It’s to put in gear the journey of figuring out what is the shite that you love doing. Too often we get stuck thinking about what our oh-so-great passion is. Get this, passion is energy. A spark for something. A magical fortune cookie which, when cracked, seems to explain everything, gives you the very reason for being alive. You can only feel that fire, that wild love, when you actually do it. So get cracking is all I’ll say!

Takeaway:

Attempt something. Nah, scratch that, imagine you’re in a sweet shop with shelves lined with free samples and try everything. Pick up that Polaroid cam, take that dreaded history course, buy that children’s cooking kit– in short, start working. Pull out all the stops, get curious, and get creative. In the process, if you promise to try hard enough, you WILL (money back guarantee) find out what makes your little heart burst with mad happiness and would willingly do for free, if needed, because you really are that crazy about it. And that, my dear, will be your oh-so-great-indeed passion. Have no doubt, you’ll never be “bored” again.

Real talk, having a dream is a big deal. And unfortunately, I’ve witnessed, rarely anyone has one to begin with. They’re either more dead than the cheap skeleton I bought for Halloween or believe they have a dream, but in reality, it belongs to mom, dad, or Uncle Sammy. Listen, doing something for someone you love (my Uncle Sammy used to supply me with cold cash whenever he came around, loved that guy) is great! YET, if you’re willing to throw away your life to fulfill others’ expectations, convincing yourself it's because they love you, even when YOUR lonely heart craves bigger things than just a marketing job, then you, my friend? Are the biggest fool. Don’t get offended, we both know it, this girl needn't ramble.

Recently, my relatives were over (nope, sadly not Uncle Sammy) and my cousin and I had a chat about life (correct, I grab every opportunity to do so). It wasn't very exciting I must say, he kept staring off into the distance (I wonder why), but what he SAID is what I'll talk about. After I’d gushed about my dreams, he asked skeptically if being an influencer would still be an ambition two years from now when I graduate. I raised my eyebrows, mock hurt, like eff you son, I ain’t giving up on my dreams! But that question got me thinking.

Life is wild. Unpredictable. An unexpected call, a single person, a random BLOG POST (cough) – can turn your life upside down, sometimes in the affirmative, other times not. This variability of life isn’t uncommon, and everyone experiences some part of it– unpaid student loans, failing startups, talent and art going unnoticed in industries dominated by wealth and connections, you name it. If all of that doesn’t make you run for the Himalayas and abandon any dreams, throw in a quick side dish of dysfunctionale famiglia with a sprinkle of self-image issues.

It ain’t easy, darling. The world is one cruel headmistress; it loves slapping awake the daydreamers and wishful thinkers. That hasn't ever actually stopped the dropouts and class clowns from building castles in the air though. And the common blueprint you notice they follow? Let me introduce you to…  Madness. Obsession. Maniacal obsession, to say. (Yes, I'm done playing with my words.)

   I struggled writing this point. A pestering voice in my head kept mumbling – They'll go back to doing the same sad shit anyway. Um, does anyone even read your posts? Lol, call yourself an influencer, hun. Hesitation started creeping in. Then the irony of the situation struck me. I laughed, shook my head and got back to typing.

We ran out of juicy gossip weeks ago, so here’s your tea served cold: insecurities and self doubt WILL get in the way. That whiny voice was just a mild version of what you face when you go all in. Fear traps you in its cage, and those who prattled behind your back now progress to talking shit in your face. Criticism and self doubt resurfaces, so unless your defenses are strong, you'll be crushed. Destroyed REAL quick.

When hell breaks loose (oh honey, and it WILL), your self defense comprising of maniacal obsession must be well learnt. Let them attack, mock, heck, drag you away from the desk and hurl you at the top of a damn mountain, but you better STILL hike back down, show them the middle finger, and continue working. That's how bulletproof you've gotta be. That's how madly do you have to love your dreams. And if you really think this will be a cake walk or want to continue complaining about Stuart being born with a silver spoon, hop off the train already. Your destination isn't on the tour list.

Look, my dreams terrify me. But they certainly make me feel more alive than complying with what every parent said about getting good grades and holding together a roof on my head. My ambitions set me free, give me a reason to fucking live. And yet, every now and then, something makes me question them. A fear engulfs me, some doubter proclaims I suck, someone I love is so blinded they can't see my vision. And that's okay. My defenses are way stronger. The next day rolls round, and you'll find me hustling again, thriving again. All because I know that even if no one reads my posts (the worst case scenario, I know y'all love me lol), someday in the future, someone will. I know that even if I’m not an influencer yet, if just one reader becomes a conqueror because of my words, it would be a win. A big win. I'd have done my job. All because I’m wildly, yes maniacally, obsessed with my dreams.

So hey, cousin? This influencer thing? This will be my dream long after I've graduated. Till the day I die, and maybe even then I'll rise from my grave to give a dead pal a lively pep talk. My watchtower has just been upgraded, so thank u, next.

Takeaway: 

“General, we've arrived!” Finally! Position those cannons, Martha, let’s talk them through the defenses. All aboard? AHOY MATEY! (wait, that was one for the pirates). Step one, dare to create a dream in your mind’s eye. The bigger, the crazier, and the scarier, the better. Doesn’t matter how impossible it is, don’t care how many voice their opinion against it, just imagine, keep a million possibilities in mind.

Once you see the life you truly want (you’ll know, everything will seem to zing)— have a sip. Become OBSESSED for that life. Thirst after that vision, itch to manifest it, and pine for the satisfaction that’ll come to your soul once it’s made a reality. Fall madly in love with the process and how magical it feel when you do it. And THEN, bellow a loud war cry and charge headfirst into battle, shields held high at all the criticisms. We conquerors never cared much for them anyway.

(play ♬) Picture this: forehead stamped with beads of sweat. Calloused hands working their fingers to the bone and eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. Conjure an image where powerful beats are pulsing hard in your ears, synced with your own elevated heartbeats, and you’re thriving. Performing. Winning. Guess the secret to that? Preparation. Champions prepare. You can’t throw anything to the winds or rely on ‘luck’ or chance to conquer.

Tough days are in everyone’s calendar, be it your extra cheerful neighbor, Sally, or lone wolf classmate, Derrick. We’ve all found ourselves sulking over an awful situation, scooping into mint ice cream to forget mistakes, errands, and ghosting exes. Yet guess what? The solution isn’t the proclaimed “be positive!” or “It all happens for a reason, don’t you worry” - the key is coming up with a method to dodge the discouraging effect these hiccups have on us.   

So every bad day, I bring out a mason jar containing a knot of chits and one secret letter which is, on most days, kept hidden on the top shelf of my cupboard. I make myself comfortable on the bed, read all my bits of paper carefully, including the letter addressed to yours truly, close my eyes, and mentally fight back whatever’s bringing me down.

A short while later, I get up, now a warrior, and go slay the rest of the day like it was my last one on this planet. That jar is my jar. A Conqueror’s jar. One look at those powerful reminders, and I’m grounded once again, the beast within me now unleashed to kill.

Takeaway:

Honey, go get yourself a jar. Along with some papyrus and ink. Then start jotting down. Document past victories, future visions, fears that mean zilch to the person you’re about to become, batty goals you’ve still gotta chase, reminders that the majority will never understand what it is you’re tryna do here, and how that’s perfectly alright 'cause you'll find your conquerors, your squad one day. Create your victory jar. And then go knock ‘em down dead. Bad days stand no chance against you. You’re a winner, a fucking rebel. Go take what’s yours.

Y’know, I’m perfectly aware that many muggles reading this will whine that dealing with depression ain’t no piece o’ pie and it’s hella hard to get up and take the crown when you feel like a pile of dino dung.

Stop it. Get some help. (See what I did? Like Michael- ok ok, calm thyself.) For real though, and I’m tired of repeating this with my kitten stamped microphone (but I’ll keep at it ‘cause it’s that significant) – whining is WORTHLESS. It saps up precious energy that could be used to make life a scrumptious smoothie. (Loothie? As in life + smoothie? Right, yes, I’m shutting up.)

And even THEN, we find denizens complaining about slow WiFis and thin crust pizzas and how the market’s down and the government’s incompetent. Because blabbering makes us feel important. Heard. But keeping yo’ trap shut and actually doing stuff? Hustling for your dreams when nobody’s watching? Actually walking the talk? C’mon, Emma, don't be naive, ain’t nobody getting recognition for that.

Trust me, I get it. The world is yet to become a feminist, turns out your boyfriend was cheating on you while you were looking up wedding dresses, mommy’s a drunk loser, and idiots are being voted into office. It’s a lot to handle. But thanks to our immense and ever increasing population (we folks really love our rumpy pumpy, can you tell) — there will surely be one chum, facing exactly the same misfortunes as you, but still turning up at every party and bulk-spamming his friends with puppy pictures while you sit and wail. (One Moaning Myrtle is enough, thank you very much.)

Look, I’m not undermining your worries or obstacles. I’m only reminding that you have the marvelous choice of positivity. To CHOOSE hope and a better future when others won't. To FIND (and it's always possible) something to look forward to even when the to-do’s a big snore. To KNOW, deep inside, that you're a magnificent conqueror, no matter what mess you’re in at the moment, and that the world dances to your rhythm. Realise that it's up to you to let yourself be happy. At any moment, you have the very say-so to get up and start rocking. Dumbledore said it himself, “It is our choices, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.” So choose better, and you’ll unconsciously do better as well. And yes, that being said, this is the last HP reference, don't fret. Be positive instead. (Edit: Ha, look at these quips, the girl's all grown up now.)

Takeaway: 

Your new occupation is to be a sunflower. If you think back, you'll probably recall Miss Honey rattling on about phototropic movement in AP biology. No? Me neither. Point is, sunflowers always face the sun. Put them ANYWHERE, hide them in the dungeons, throw them in a trash bag and shoot it off to the moon, they’ll still turn around and face the sun. No matter what. And taking inspo from that, you too can stop scripting creative soliloquies for being depressed. Happiness is YOUR right, YOUR priority, don't let anyone take it away from you or diminish its importance. DON’T let sadness ruin your vibe, do what you've gotta do to protect yourself. Track happiness in yo’ journal, set 84 reminders on your phone, and tattoo “Long as you’re beaming up at the sun, all the shadows will be left behind” on your boobs. Do whatever, just don’t turn the corners of your mouth down. You’re so pretty this way.

The other day, I was doing the deathly Plié Alternative Heel Lifts (these names, I swear) and my legs felt dead. Gone. Put to sleep like the Wicked Witch of the East. Now obviously, the timer wasn’t not even halfway done yet, but my cheeks were already flushing red like dear Santa, and NOT because I was high on choco chip cookies. I sighed, and at that point, I was so over giving up. All this while, I’d been whining and protesting because my muscles felt sore, but in that moment, I made up my mind. I bit my lip and kept going. On and on. Keep pulsing, you got it, don't stop, was the mantra I kept chanting.

   Won’t sugarcoat it, I honestly hadn’t died this much since that time Miss Honey buried me alive with trig assignments. My legs were now basically Play-doh and I was shaking, fighting for balance. A few seconds in though, something crazy happened. My legs went numb. My grumbling mind quietened and the pain vanished. That evening, I had the upper hand, not my physical perceptions of myself. I was powerful. Flawless. (Hey Santa, do you even lift bro?) Real talk, I was in the Zone, bitches.

I’m not sure if that was the result of excessive pain or because Wonder Woman’s spirit possessed ma bod, but staying loyal to my love for metaphors, I’ll use the experience to explain what I’m tryna get at here.

   Look, here’s the real deal — if all of the greats gave up the second things got frowny, we probably would have no one to worship. Nix role models, nix inspirations, none to stalk on Insta - we’d all be bumbling about like Sad from the even sadder Emoji movie (no shade, emojis be lit).

And that'd be very sad (pun definitely intended). Hence, cue some tangible ways to boosting your grit, so that you can be your own superhero:

1) Get yo’self a goddamn motto,

2) Know your “Why,”

3) Repeat the cycle till it’s in your blood. Btw, Shawn, if you here, I’m still a single pringl—HEY PAL I SEE YOU, DON'T SCROLL.

Seriously, don't brush these prime steps aside. We're always going for the advanced modes, and deeming these basic levels a waste of time. Well guess what, compadre, YOUR LIFE IS A GODDAMN WASTE O’ TIME IF YOU DON'T HAVE YOUR BASICS RIGHT. Excuse my outburst, but listen. You can’t do a hundred bicep curls on your first workout if you haven't lifted anything more than a crisps packet. Likewise, if you simply jump into Life one day, and decide “ok, here it is, 12 habits to build, sleep schedule to fix, man to ask out, let's go,” you ain't getting nowhere, chum. Start small. Take baby steps. It's clearly not as fun (definitely negates the bragging on Facebook part of it) but it'll stick. You’ll create a consistency that not even Grandma's cake batter can achieve.

1. Talking mottos — For context, a motto that I always mutter (my mom thinks I'm cursing, oh what a bad child) every time I spill milk while making coffee is “Do more. Give more. BE more.” Not only does it help me stay right on track for the rest of the day but it helps me clean up my mess, figuratively and otherwise, or I’d just be sitting in a puddle of spilt milk, cursing adulting for real this time and with more laundry to do.

2. Why you need the Big Why — Owning up, I’m guilty of attempting to learn Welsh for less than 48 hours because I hadn't a single reason to speak the language. A similar thing happened with half of my 2018 resolutions, which had a bunch of rubbish like “Floss daily”, something my eyes got trained to skip because, um, who the hell flosses every day?

Lame humor aside, I still workout almost daily because I have my Why straight. 1) I want to feel good about my body and get closer to the confident badass I envision my future self to be, 2) I simply HAVE to sustain my health to live to build my legacy and fulfill my dreams of opening a bakery at 90 and 3) Because I’m an influencer, and want to walk my talk and be the inspiration people need. Those are the reasons as to why I turn up to my yoga mat everyday, shut my jabbering mind, and keep on pulsing. This “Why” strategy applies to everything. Wanna get outta depression? Why? Wanna lose 20 pounds? Why? Wanna listen to your dentist’s desperate pleadings and floss already? WHY EH? Unless you know your intentions, you’ll give up at the first chance you get to not act on your goals. And watch out, because there'll be a LOT of those.

For me, leaving a legacy behind means more than having a slice of cake or missing a workout because there’s a fun movie playing. Find what's important to YOU, make it your why, and go marry your goals.

3. And then, Repeat — Bear in mind, if you're not living your best life yet, there are NO weekends. NO work-shy days. No weak days, no pick-me-up days, no eat-candy-do-nothing days. Everyday is a damn Monday. EVERYDAY is life or death. Every holy day you wake up is a chance to push your limits, challenge your mindset, and see how far you can go. And every 24 hours, when the cycle starts again, it’s your mission to race to build a stronger, wiser and crazier you.

And who knows, perhaps one day, you and I will just be casually sipping tea in our dream home, laughing at how the milk is still being spilt but knowing, proudly, fiercely, that we’ve come so far, even though there’s still more left to do, more to give and so much more to be.

Takeaway: 

Quit quitting. You're, guaranteed, 20x stronger than you think. I doubted I could go through with the workout, it seemed beyond my present physical capabilities. But I did, because I treated it as life or death. Understand this, the second you start making excuses, for being depressed, for taking an unnecessary day off - you give away your power. You are a very powerful being. You're limitless, capable of everything.

I'm not throwing these words around to make you feel cute, I actually mean AND believe them. There’s so much that's been done already— the iconic four minute mile by Roger Bannister, invention of the light bulb, cars, toothpaste and other junk, people who lost both legs and climbed Mt. Everest, we sent a man to moon in frickin’ 1969 (50 YEARS ago), some ran a 26 mile marathon with zero training, love and hope is still strong in this world, oh let's also add coffee and motivational music— and YOU think you can't finish a workout or get outta depression or meet your idols or marry the man of your dreams or become the artist you wanna be? Ridiculous. Don't give away your power that easily, this ain't no charity shop.

(play ♬) Having personally dealt with unwelcome yet familiar feelings of emptiness quite often, I’ve now reached a point where each bad day is simply a reminder of how long my journey ahead is, and just how badly I want to reach my destination.

We finally near the end of this novel of a post (thanks for sticking around, bud), and my best advice would be this: Rather than wallowing in self pity and throwing one-man parties because your life is so awfully dreadful, know that even when life throws you to the floor, long as you can look up, long as you can read an entire book about defeating depression (cough)– you can GET UP too. Let those emotions of sorrow and frustration blaze up into a roaring, crackling fire that doesn’t consume you, but instead, urges you, fuels you.

Lately, no matter how much shit I go through, how many arguments I tumble into, or how barren my dreams look sometimes, I don’t break down. And no, it wasn't always like this. I never even had aspirations to name two years ago. Six months back, it had become a night routine to cry. Not anymore.

Now, every setback and every failure only pushes me to be stronger and give more than I ever gave. The day I made the decision to Conquer (truly, madly, deeply, with all of my heart) was also the day I said a big, loud ‘fuck you’ to every resistance that was to cross my path. I had finally understood that life was nothing but a battle of WILLS, that it was all in or nothing, and I made up my mind once and for all to NEVER give in to depression, or to society, or to anyone who tells me I cannot make it.

I had conquered depression. There was no looking back now.

Takeaway: 

Here’s something no one will tell you: the key to bringing depression to its knees is seeing it positively. Pretend that it's a friend continuously sending strong, aggressive signals urging you to be happy. And what do you do when a caring friend throws some holy light? You listen, push past your ego, and follow accordingly.

And if that parallel seems unconvincing, here's another one (sup, DJ Khaled. This post is turning musical, sorry): it's scared of you. Depression is scared shit of you. Y'know how bullies are, right? Majorly insecure, self-loathing too perhaps, hardly fans of self love, and always trying to numb all that subconscious pain by inflicting pain on others. Depression has the same instruction manual. Your fears and doubts are your (pathetic) bullies, and depression is the big ol’ crony who does the dirty work for 'em.

Whenever you decide shit this is it, I'm going for it, they go paranoid and try stopping you because they've seen no better. And if they succeed, BOOM, you're depressed, paralyzed, your qualms reigning over you again. Don't let them in. I'll say it a thousand times if I gotta because I want (HAVE) to see you conquer – you're so much stronger than you think you are. You can do so much more than you think. It's all in your head! Don't just sit there, click away, and go back to living a sad life. You’re better than that. DO better than that. You’re meant to freaking CONQUER, straight-up dominate, my pal. Pay heed to that voice craving freedom. You got this. And you better know it.

One thing’s fixed like the (beloved by all) proportionality constants in Physics, you will come across depressing mornings and sluggish evenings even in the future. I assure you. Lots o’ bad hair days in the calendar, sis. But here's what you’ll do: you'll deactivate the miserable thoughts, keep a cool head, remind yourself that this is yet another test (better, rap your new mantra) and USE that hurt, pain, and anger to create a fervor and passion that wreaks havoc on its obstacles and drives you to accomplish EVERYTHING you've ever wanted to do. The easy choice would be to just give up, bellyache about the situation, and want sympathy for your worries. Yet, what you'll never do is… exactly that.

Rule 1) NEVER give up. Stand your ground. Have faith in your strength. Know that you'll have your way soon enough anyway. Rule 2) NEVER complain. All it does is drain your energy, that precious fire you could to high jump your way into the clouds. Makes you a pathetic wimp too, definitely not something you want on a warrior’s resume. Lastly, Rule 3) NEVER seek validation. From anyone. It sure feels nice to be acknowledged and encouraged, but grasp this— this is your journey. YOUR life and YOUR vision. Validation won't get you anywhere, for there'll never be enough of it.

Cuz Marty, if you're tryna bring something new, different, and authentic into this world – you'll most likely be hated on badly, before you'll be loved madly (hi, me a rapper). Learn to invite hate instead—IMPORTANT: hate from others, not yourself. Sounds counterintuitive, but this is the real tea: hate is good. It means you're standing up for something, refusing to fit like a puzzle piece in society, and being UNAPOLOGETICALLY yourself. And it’s certainly a sign that you’re on the right path if you can ignore that hate and stick your tongue out at it.  

Yet another reason to never seek validation is simply this: you have to fight for yourself. In order to meet your own expectations, reach the doorstep of the best version of you, and transform this world, you'll have to go wildly IN. Toil and hammer away. Shut out all the haters and non-believers, listening only to your gut. Importantly, learn to accept the rejection slips, validating yourself not with what Molly says about it being okay, but with the reminder that your time is coming soon. Depend on yourself. Validation will NEVER be enough.

I get it, it's a lot of homework, but perhaps you already realize that it’s THIS work that'll change your life forever. Not “how to not procrastinate, Jesus take the wheel” or “HELLO, life's a mess so here are ten things to do (you won't believe number four!)”. Clickbaits don't work, stop believing that a fancy planner is going to be your savior. There is no rule to making your life a masterpiece. You'll have to get to know yourself and your dreams (journaling, meditation, silent pondering), build the work ethics and the mentality needed (lots of work in this one, yet no strict framework to go about it) and GET GOING.

AND with that firework, I'll begin to slip away now. Again, I won’t say it’s easy, that’s cock and bull. Life’s no fairytale. You will never feel ready to start bringing your dreams to fruition. But, my darling (I’m being so nice yo, follow me), you must. You must force yourself to work for the future you want till it becomes a habit, an obsession. The world badly needs heroes; confident people who can stand for themselves so that others can stare at first, maybe even hate a little, but then follow because they seem unstoppable and are, truthfully, having the most fun at life. YOU'RE one of them. No validation, just plain facts.

You see, conquering is a LOT of blood and sweat (K-pop, anyone? BTS? Lmao, this is me tryna clickbait y'all to read). Even getting up will seem huge when you're just starting out, and this is one long road, dear pal. Still then, I have enough faith in you to hope you don't give into your fears, I hope you willingly chase discomfort, and I hope you find the courage to do all that you want to do, while that heart's still beating.

I hope you conquer. I'll do too, and I'd really like to see some familiar faces during the ride.

Peace, amigo.

A loud ass A/N: And now, we come the most important part of this post. WAKE UP Luke, stop snoring, and take some notes. Remember kids, I won't accept anything but an A.

   If you couldn’t identify yourself throughout this post and currently are scoffing like um woman, that's not really why I'm depressed, hang in there a sec. Yes, you can stop singing It Ain’t Me now. You've a very nice voice by the way.

I'm not a doctor, and I don't have enough exposure to know why so many earthlings are depressed today. HOWEVER, by talking to many, following their stories, watching and reading stuff – I do know with firm conviction that a majority suffers from severe unfulfillment. Don't believe me? A study shows 85% of the working class worldwide hate their jobs. Do you realize what that actually means? EIGHTY-FIVE PERCENT of the THREE BILLION PEOPLE employed today, hate being employed in the first place! They do it for prime survival, to sustain themselves. And that's just jobs. I won't scare you, but 50% (yes, HALF, you heard that right) of students HATE going to school. Kids waste SEVEN hours of their life every day going somewhere they dislike, doing something they hate. Who's singing now?

People find themselves trapped in golden handcuffs, taking the paycheck despite the passionless job. They push aside the art and business they love, to become a slave of good ol’ cash. Several surround themselves with negativity and get frustrated when unable to escape the choking (no, not THAT kind again, hello someone pour holy water over this post) atmosphere. An innumerable are forced into taking up courses that they don't care about under parental pressure. The reasons are endless, and I don't think I'll amuse myself listing all the sad excuses.

This has always been the story. Hundreds of influencers have preached the same words I’m tryna put into your head here and you’ll yourself say you’ve heard this a million times. YET, you’re dissatisfied. YET, you feel like crap everyday, feeding yourself the same lie that the next day will be better, that you’ll get up tomorrow– while you let life beat the shit out of you.

That’s why, all of my words, everything you’ve read today - all of that boils down to just one single question. A difficult but necessary choice. Will you let this happen to YOU? Will you, seriously, even after this wild ride together, go back to doing nothing and being nothing? Will you, for real, continue deceiving yourself, sacrifice your happiness for the sake of pleasing everyone else, and remain a statistic on a website?

   (play ♬) If you’re not sure of your answer, read: Look, making you feel guilty is not my intention, because that’s not how this works. I need you to understand instead. Guilt wears off, it’s only understanding that brings about change. So, just for old times’ sake, I’ll rant a bit more (ik, just can’t seem to leave y’all).

You’re so, so young right now. More than half of your life is yet to be experienced. None of this probably makes much impact right now but it will the day you die. Remember, on your deathbed, you won't EVER look back and say, “Damn, wish I'd spent more time at the office. Saved up just one more dollar. Could’ve got that promotion before Amy.” Nay, it won’t even be on the calendar. That day, one foot in the grave, you'll reflect and wonder why the heck you didn’t let yourself be happier. Why you took up that lacklustre, soul-sucking architect job when all you've ever wanted to do is keep laughing. Why you didn't ask your crush out, why you were so afraid to walk up to that audition, because dammit, you could’ve been running your own comedy show by now. Why you dragged around a karaoke machine all this time instead of singing your own song. Why you couldn’t love yourself. Why you submitted. Why.

And the moment you realize that you hadn't lived a life for you, you’ll be crushed. Broken. The arthritis in your grannie joints won't even compare and neither will the mild dissatisfaction you’re feeling right now. Those whys will haunt you, they'll terrorize you, break you. It'll hurt tremendously to know that there isn't a single thing in your long life that you could call completely your own.

 With every death today so many dreams are left unachieved, crazy things left unchecked on the bucket list, and unique potential left unexpressed.

DON'T let that be you. Please. I'm still a mess myself, struggling to reach class on time and studying subjects that aren't exactly fun, when all I want to do is create content (read: fireworks) that is at a level of insanity, influence folks to do better, hold crazy world tours and meet-and-greets to give hugs, and get an adorable puppy so I can create a dogstagram (yes, I'm that mom). Sure, I could declare it's too hard, hang onto small-minded and negative people who whine endlessly, and follow the crowd, getting lost in it, with ease.

But I won’t because I can’t take the burden of those regrets. That painful unrest and discontent that nothing could cure, not drugs, alcohol, buddies, not even true love. For then I’d be just another drone, my controller in the hands of society, forcing me to see the world through its eyes. I can’t give in because I’m scared, terrified even, of wasting away this one life doing the bidding of others- folks who won't even notice when I’m gone.

It’s easy to be depressed and crib your entire life. It’s easy to think you’re worthless and that trying is pointless since nothing ever goes your way.

But perhaps, if you rise, if you simply DECIDE to have the audacity to fight for what you believe in, if you work and focus on becoming better, things will go your way. Life will bend to you, in awe, at your incredible relentlessness. Life will take one look at you, wonder who the fuck is this person? How the fuck are they so incapable of giving up? And back right away. And then perhaps, life will be such a blast for you that depression would become the past you never had.

   I know you can get there, conqueror. It’s time you knew it too.

🌚🌝 Further reading? 🌝🌚

Last Post :— How To Get Back Into The Creative Process – For you, if you're in a creative rut. Get outta it and go create magic!

5 Reasons Why You're Unhappy — To help you identify & cut out CURRENT sources of sadness so that you can spice up yo’ life with some happiness instead. Definitely recommend reading AND implementing.

The Bubble Trap & How To Get Out Of It — One of my classics. Everyone is in one of these 'bubbles’ till they consciously do something about it; that's just how it is. Are you still in one? (Someone teach me marketing, lmao.)

The 5 Biggest Regrets of The Dying (from Greatist) — I LOVED reading this. Pretty much all you need to cut the crap and do meaningful stuff. Read it, memorize it, work it.

++ Want to request a blog post? Leave your request in my ask box! I'll get back to you with a reply, along with the average time I'll need to birth that magical idea.

Thanks for dropping by! It was a pleasure to have you around. If you wish to stick for a bit, I'd suggest picking one of the related posts mentioned above.

If you wanna check out my blog, here's a little something about me (y'all know I love the attention). What do I write about? Three arenas I dominate, Work, Lifestyle and Life, they are, my mate! Take your pick!

I post new blog posts bi-weekly, and my wins, & journal entries throughout the week, so follow me if you're into conquering life, leaving a legacy and being the baddest badass you can possibly be. I'll be your side pal, cheering you along.✨

And that was it, it's a wrap! Martha, shut the cams, Henry, pause the audio, and Nandita, I know you're pretending to be deaf, but Mom's yelling something about doing the dishes. Better skip along.

And you, fellow conqueror? Keep slaying life, doing the work and making it count. I hope you're well, stay strong and go conquer life. ✧

I'm sending you so much love, see you soon.

— Nandini 💌 (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

[metricanxiety]

I’ve Been Wishing For You

aww hell yeah. i added in a teensy bit of spaceboy!dan becuase i live for that shit ;))))

also phil has a tattoo but hes not a punk lets be cleAR

-

Phil had always loved the rain.

He didn’t like being caught in it, but he loved the comfortable atmosphere of being curled up in blankets as the rain poured outside. Especially when he was at work.

Owning a flower/plant/coffee shop wasn’t the easiest, but why would Phil ever do anything that was easy? He loved what he did. He loved the people that came in, his regulars.

Phil’s shop was really unique, especially being on the corner of a busy street in the heart of London. It was white on the outside, with vines growing on the walls, with the logo, that Phil designed himself, painted onto the window. He had flowers growing in pots on all eight tables, with even more bins filled with various plants, succulents, and mosses. This was his passion.

The shop smelled strongly of the outdoors, which you don’t smell very often in London, and soft whiff of coffee. Not only did he make flower and plant arrangements, but he also served some of the best coffee served in London, which had turned the place into a cafe as well.

Phil was so successful with his business, he had employees working full time, and the regulars had started giving him reviews on Yelp, which were fantastic. His business was booming, not one moment of the day was quiet around him. 

But Phil wasn’t happy.

Of course, he was happy that his dream had finally come true, but he wasn’t satisfied with what his life had become. His job was his life, and that’s not the ‘dream’ Phil had in mind. When he was just getting started, he dreamed of having a family work alongside him, making the place more personal, more appealing to families. But he was 29 now, and hadn’t dated anyone in three years. 

He wanted the life of one of his regulars, Dan. 

Dan was an astronomy major in Uni, and had a teaching degree. He taught year fives about the stars, and planets, and at twenty five years old. He came in after school had let out every day, and ordered the same caramel latte, and sat to grade papers. Or well, put ‘good job!’ and ‘amazing work!’ stickers on the margins. The handwriting was almost too messy to read, but it was an A for effort. 

Dan seemed so happy with what his life had become, and Phil was jealous. Since Dan had been coming in regularly, they had gotten to know each other quite well. Dan was the only real friend Phil had in his life anymore, and he wasn’t going to let go of him anytime soon. 

Now, although Phil hated to admit it, he was actually head over heels for Dan. He couldn’t quite explain what it was, maybe the curls the swept to the left on his head, or how long and awkward he was, or the way his brown eyes would light up whenever he talked about what he was passionate about. Phil found Dan to be quite the most gorgeous human he had ever come in contact with. 

Phil always looked forward to three thirty, because that was the time Dan would always show up. He made sure to have a caramel latte hot n ready for Dan’s arrival, and two freshly cut peonies to have on Dan’s table. They were Dan’s favorite flower, due to the fact that Phil had them on the table the first time Dan went to the shop. And ever since Phil had basically fallen for Dan, he never failed to give him peonies. But could you blame Phil? The flowers stood for romance, he couldn’t help himself than to woo Dan over with them. He hasn’t picked up on the symbolism, yet. 

So Phil was mindlessly tapping his fingers on the counter, listening to the soft patter of rain hitting the windows, and pavement outside. The clock read three twenty three, and Phil was waiting in anticipation for the brunet to burst through the doors with damp hair, his face flushed, and a smile. His day was quite boring, after the morning rush nobody really came in, other than teenagers who skipped school, or unemployed adults that are either homeless, or stay at home parents. Around lunch time, the second rush of the day, he dealt with the busy, rushed business people, until it calmed own again. So here he is. 

A woman was sitting with a stroller next to her, with, who he assumed, to be a friend she was catching up with. They were talking about how one of them was getting ready to adopt a third child, and the other was thinking of getting pregnant again. They couldn’t have been five years older than Phil, and had families, lives, and here Phil was. Plants were his family. 

Not that he didn’t love plants. Fuck, he had vines tattooed up his left arm, as a sleeve. It was the only tattoo he had, the only one he wanted. People thought it was weird that this nerdy guy who owned a hybrid of a coffee shop and florist had a tattoo. But Phil loved destroying stereotypes. 

“Yeah, Cam is starting year six this year, and I don’t know if I’m ready for my baby to be growing up so fast. Its just so weird you know?” Phil listened in, sighing. 

The bell dinged, making Phil’s ears perk up, looking over at the door and seeing the man he had been waiting for. He was closing his umbrella, leaning it against the wall. Dan turned around when he shrugged off his rain coat, smiling when he saw Phil. 

“It costs extra for you to occupy that space for your umbrella, you know.” Phil said, beginning to make Dan’s drink. Dan chuckled, fixing his fringe. 

“Well, I’ll have to file a complaint for umbrella discrimination. My umbrella will leave a zero out of five star rating on yelp for this disgraceful business.” Dan smiled, leaning against the counter, resting on his crossed arms. 

“I’m sorry to break it to you, but your umbrella doesn’t have opposable thumbs. I don’t think it would be able to figure out how to type.” Phil joked, handing Dan the mug of coffee. Dan gave Phil his card, but Phil declined. 

“What?” Dan asked, not grabbing the mug until Phil took his card to pay. 

“It’s on me today.” Phil smiled, he motioned for somebody to cover the till, as he walked around to the front of the counter. Dan smiled, thanking Phil as he took the mug. 

“Would you care to join me as a strategically place stickers on these papers?” Dan asked, swinging his backpack next to the small table that he always sat at. The peonies rested on the table, and Dan picked them both up and set them in the vase that was at the edge. Like he always did. 

“I would love to.” Phil slid into the seat across from Dan, taking off his apron and draping it on the back of his chair. 

“I had the most crazy day today. My kids were all buzzing with excitement because the thunder was so loud.” Dan started, he pulled out his binder full of papers he needed to ‘grade’. He was surprised to see the thick stack of papers, and the small stack of stickers he had. Phil laughed. “But I guess they were like that in all their classes, the other year four teachers had the same problem.”

“So it was a stressful day, then?” 

“No, I bullshitted the entire lesson. It’s not like they were paying attention. These papers are from the warm up I require every day. Year six teachers are getting more strict about that, so I’m trying to prepare them for it next year.” Dan took a sip of his coffee, peeling stickers off the sheet, having one on his five fingers. He placed one down, then moved on to the next assignment, repeat. 

 “How do they know if they did well?” Phil chuckled, grabbing half the stack of papers, and a sticker sheet. He might as well help, it would be kind of rude to just watch Dan work while Phil was literally slacking off at his own job. Good job he was his own boss, he guessed. 

“We grade them in class. But one time I tried telling them to just keep the warm ups in their completed folder, and they got really offended that I wasn’t going to put stickers on them.” 

“Is astronomy the only thing you teach?” 

“No. I have to teach all sorts of science, but I like to focus on astronomy, because well, fuck it. I love it. I’m not so good at everything else, though.”

“Maybe I can help out with botany. Because, everyone knows I don’t know shit about plants.” Phil’s tone was sarcastic, because well, fucking look at him. Of course he knew everything about plants. 

“Oh yeah, because children really care about having the knowledge that cabbage is 91 percent water contents.”

Phil leaned over the table, smacking Dan, making them both laugh. He looked up to Cleo, who was working the till, seeing her devilish smile at him. Cleo knew about Phil’s little, well, obsession, and has been trying to hook them up forever now. Phil didn’t know exactly what she did to Dan, but she put Phil through hell. She wouldn’t let him forget about Dan any second of the day. 

Mistakenly, Dan had told her he was gay before he and Phil were close, and Phil just had a ridiculous teenage crush on him, and that spiraled and entire conversation about why you should totally just go for it Phil he told me to my face he likes dick so go while the window is open.  

And now look, Phil had finally gotten the courage to go sit with Dan, without even thinking about it. Something was different today, but Phil couldn’t quite pin it. 

“Do you do this at home as well?” Phil asked, trying to spark up a conversation. Dan laughed. 

“Oh god no. When I get home it’s literally just lesson planning. This is the most relaxing part of my day, if I’m honest.”

“Wow, guess I’ll have to make your trip here more stressful. You’re not allowed to have fun.” Phil said, and Dan let out a noise like a giggle, making Phil’s heart soar. 

“You’d have to completely change yourself then, because that’s what makes the trip here worth it every day. Even in the pouring rain.” Dan tilted his head toward the window, referring to the current weather. But he said t in such a smug way, smirking at Phil during and after, and Phil was in shock. 

Was he flirting with me?

“That’s easy.” Phil picked up the salt shaker on the table, shook a fair amount into his hand, and successfully dumped it into Dan’s coffee. 

Dan looked up wide eyed, his jaw dropping. “Did you really?”

“I did.” Phil crossed his arms on the table. Dan got up off the chair, and strode over to his umbrella, it already making a tiny puddle of water from the rain running off the fabric. He sprinted back over to the table, and shook the rest of the droplets over Phil’s head. 

Phil gasped, swatting the umbrella away from above his head. The two women had turned and were watching, giggling as Dan shoved the papers into his bag, laughing as he swung it over his shoulders, and started for the door, running. Phil gave an unsure look to Cleo, before she shouted ‘Go!’, and Phil took off after Dan. 

He heard the bell chime when he ran out of the building, and Dan was already halfway across the street, looking back at Phil, the umbrella long forgotten. “Oops?” Dan said, raising his arms as if he didn’t know what he did, breaking into a laugh when Phil finally caught up. They hadn’t been outside for thirty seconds, and they were already drenched, their hair dripping wet. Phil shook his head, bringing his hands up to his hair, and ruffling it, while shaking it in Dan’s face, adding more water than what was coming down. “What you get for putting salt in my coffee!’

“Hey, you deserved that!” Dan started walking backwards, making Phil follow him. He was almost running sideways by the time Phil caught up. “You told me to completely change, because I’m so awful.”

“Don’t put words into my mouth.” Dan remarked. “I told you to change yourself because YOU wanted my experience to be less enjoyable.” 

Dan sped ahead, turning the corner, and going down an ally. The rain wasn’t as intense, the buildings shielding them, Phil had grabbed Dan’s wrist, both laughing. He held both arms in one hand, making Dan squirm as he laughed hysterically, and brought a hand to his neck, maing it seem as if Phil were going to grab his face and kiss him, but at last minute he flicked Dan right under his ear. “Oops?” He mocked Dan’s statement from earlier. 

Dan wiggled his arms free, and started poking Phil on his sides, tickling him. “Oops,” Dan yelled, trying to escape Phil’s arms when he reached out to defend himself. He crossed his own over his chest as Phil had his arms wrapped around his torso, dropping Dan’s bag, pulling his back into his chest. Phil had lifted Dan’s feel off the ground slightly, both still laughing at each other, over nothing. “Phil!”

Phil interlocked their fingers, on both hands, keeping them wrapped around Dan, on a whim. “Whoops, looks like our hands are stuck together. That’s weird?” Phil joked, pinning Dan around. He knew it was cheesy, but they were already acting cheesy, so it only added to the moment.

 “What a shame.” Dan said, smiling with dimples adorning his cheeks. It had been a while since Dan had found somebody he really liked. The last time being in Uni, but that was years ago. He really grew an affection towards Phil, which is why he kept going back to his shop every day, and would occasionally order flowers, or plants to his house, just because he knew Phil picked them out, and arranged them. 

But being a teacher took up most of his life, so he never really had time to date, or do anything to hang out with a person, and Phil was just somebody that he got to know without even knowing he was doing it, and figured out he kept going because he really fucking liked Phil, but didn’t know how to act on it.

 Dan moved his hands around Phil’s neck, tugging lightly on the hair that was at the bottom of Phil’s neck. “Your hair called me, and asked why you didn’t leave it in 2007, and I couldn’t help but wonder the same exact question.” Dan teased, his tongue poking out of his mouth as he giggled with Phil’s sarcastic eye roll. “Oh, sorry, does that offend you?”

“You literally have the exact same haircut, you’re just curlier than me.” Phil laughed. Dan had pulled Phil’s head down more, pressing their foreheads together. They both had no idea how they had gotten to this point so quickly, but were happy that it was finally happening, at least, they hoped. 

“You know,” Dan started, “the kids finally pointed out that I always have peonies in my vase last week.”

“Tell them where you got them, it will get me more business.” Phil said, sounding serious. Dan tried to hold back laughter, kicking his shin. 

“And then one of them, all bold like, said, and I quote, ‘my mummy told me peonies are romantic, does somebody fancy you, Mr.Howell?’ And I couldn’t help but fucking blush because of fucking course Peonies symbolize romance after I had fallen for the guy that kept supplying me with them voluntarily.”

Then it was Phil’s turn to blush, because holy fuck, Dan figured out his secret plan, and it fucking worked. It worked. He could barely believe what he had just heard. It was like every single dream he ever had was finally coming true, and the rain soaking them didn’t even matter anymore, because he was so shocked that this was happening, this boring day had turned so amazing, Phil thought he was dreaming.

 “Ah, you have uncovered my secret plans!” Phil tried to cover up the fact that he was internally freaking out, and seemed to do it pretty well in that case. 

“Secret?” Dan asked, giggling. “Are they secret if I find out before you even tell me?”

“It worked didn’t it?” 

They both laughed, their noses bumping together, making them just that more eager. And suddenly, Dan pushed his head up, and their lips collided, locking together to naturally, and perfectly. 

Neither of them could believe what was happening, yet at the same time they could. Phil ran his hands up and down Dan’s sides, exhaling when they pulled back. 

It wasn’t for long, though, as Phil went straight back down, kissing the breath out of Dan. He bit down on Dan’s bottom lip, and Dan opened his mouth enough for Phil to slip his tongue in, which Dan had dreamed about Phil doing forever now. 

Phil brought his hands to Dan’s cheeks, running the pads of his thumbs on his cheekbones. Dan gasped, Phil’s other fingers lightly brushing against his neck, making Phil smirk. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” Dan said, Phil just pressed their lips back together, showing Dan how much he agreed. 

-

Phil’s keys jingled in his hands as he tried to unlock the door to his flat, Dan kissing his jaw as he hung off Phil’s arm. Both of their minds were racing with adrenaline. 

Turns out that standing in the middle of the rain making out isn’t going to take them any further, so Phil suggested that they go to his flat down the street to ‘dry off’ and ‘change’. Dan knew what he actually meant, and didn’t hesitate to agree to it. But could you blame Dan? He’s been waiting for this for a year and a half, he was not going to pass up the opportunity. obviously. 

Phil pushed the door open, revealing his apartment to Dan, for the first time. He didn’t think that this would be how he showed Dan his life at home for the first time, but hey, no going back now. 

He didn’t think pushing Dan against the wall would be the right approach to start this, as he didn’t know what Dan’s boundaries were, so he settled for just hugging Dan from behind as he looked around the flat, taking in what he could. 

Phil had a plant of some sort of variation on any surface of his house, vases of flowers, regular potted house plants, succulents, etc.. But to top that even more, he had posters of old video games, movies, and cartoons. But they were professionally framed, making Dan giggle at how nerdy Phil exactly was. 

“Suits you.” Dan smiled, leaning into Phil. 

“I know, it’s a lot.” Phil laughed, kissing Dan’s cheek. 

“No, no. Really, it suits you. I like it.” Dan turned around, placing his hands on Phil’s chest. He blinked up at hi, leaning up and pressing a light kiss to Phil’s lips. Phil had dropped Dan’s bag onto the floor next to the door, before wrapping his arms around Dan’s waist. 

“Wouldn’t expect you to go for the nerd who owns a florist cafe.” Phil joked, kissing Dan’s giggle away. Phil slid his tongue into Dan’s mouth, making the kiss more needy, and rough. Dan squeaked, tugging Phil closer by his shirt, tilting his head. 

Phil’s hands cupped Dan’s face, running the pads of his thumbs across his cheekbones. His skin was smooth, and up close, Phil could see the small freckles that littered Dan’s face, which made him even more adorable than he could imagine. He was completely head over heels for Dan, and the fact that he had finally reached this stage with him was exhilarating. “Wouldn’t have expected you to go for the primary school teacher.” Dan said between kissing. 

Dan’s fingers found their way to the top button of Phil’s shirt, slowly looping it through the hole, successfully undoing it. 

This was what Phil had wanted, he wanted somebody that he was completely head over heels for, somebody that felt the same for him that he felt, and this was when he finally realized that he got what he was looking for. 

Maybe opening that coffee shop wasn’t his only dream, because after today, it won’t be his top priority anymore. 

“You don’t even know what I’m feeling for you right now.” Phil pulled away. Dan blushed. 

“Trust me, I do.”

-

Oh my god im sorry this is literal shit but i tried my hardest

Send me requests!!! but please specify if you want smut or not bc i dont know what you want if you dont!!!! ty