#ive had this thought stuck in my brain for days. literally on repeat just ‘im a healer but’

[watery-pancake]

recently ive realized just how bad my memory has become from smoking weed, so i finally decided enough's enough. finished my last edible, hit my pen for the last time. it's come to the point where even the most basic memory recall is a struggle for me. the other day i started panicking bc i couldnt find my phone... while watching tiktoks

however, the problem still arises with my crippling anxiety and neverending thoughts. nothing can stop my brain. so i resorted to the last thing i would normally do: exercise. i say last thing bc normally w my brain it literally petrifies me to the point that ill be physically unable to do anything. my mind is being rotted by how terrible the thoughts are, even when i try to distract myself they just come back. ill be laying in bed, my fingers and toes cold as ice, stuck with the heavy feeling in my chest as if im on the brink of a heart attack. stuck, paralyzed in my bed. my tomb until the waves pass

the other day i borrowed a weight adjustable kettleball from my brother. 20lbs for now, if i remember right. my original plan was to just use it to help with the pain in my left shoulder since my muscles are more than likely atrophied from the sheer amount of time ive spent in my bed in pain.

its so fucking hard to exercise when my spine is screwed in place with titanium, my lower spine has a curve, and my thyroid disorder removes all my energy. no workout i could find was helping

the other night i had another anxiety attack. in my bed, crippled once again. i used the kettleball, and the blood flow helped. did some core workouts on my old yoga mat, and it helped even more. did some stretches, and i was all right. laid in my bed, and right before i could sleep it happened again, and i repeated my routine.

its so funny to me. it was on this same yoga mat i found out i had scoliosis. my mom bullied me for years that the pain in my back was just from weight, so at the ripe age of 10 i started dieting. it was only when i bent over on the yoga mat that she saw how fucked up my posture was. it feels like yesterday she was angrily pleading with me to just straighten my posture. it never straightened, even now. all that weight i gained was never my fault either, it was my thyroid disorder forcing me to gorge myself until i felt like throwing up, and still feeling unsatiated. hungry.

it feels nice to find a new habit that works for me. a healthy one, at that. finally i have something that can help with my pain, mental and physical. mostly mental lol. its nice. next step: finally quitting nicotine for good. not "quitting" but frfr quitting. not a couple puffs a day. not a puff a day. nothing. no more lies. im getting off nic, and improving my health. i want to be able to look at my lover, my family, and my friends and finally be honest when i say "ew no i dont smoke". i WILL get better!!!!!!!!!!!!

[sawadamn]

honestly whenever i remember how shamal is a doctor but also part of the mafia & also a hitman all i can think of is this image:

[incorrecttwoset]

Lesson time with Dani:

I think the thing we all learned here today is classical music is still very, VERY much alive. And that pop could be a pretty iNtEreStInG way to indoctrinate introduce people to classical music. I've been listening to a bunch of pop lately and honestly? It was a WEIRD experience. I kept getting befuddled by the amount of music there was (3 minutes of catchy beats is nOTHING against a half hour of intense musical dialog, argument, and passion) and the repetitiveness and simplicity of it (like dude wheres the motif? Is the motif your beat? Why is it playing the same thing over and over? Huh?). But, its still good music. There were a couple outliers too, that really gave me an experience. (Check out seasonal feathers by hitoshizuku it broke my heart) Look, what im trying to say is- classical and pop are both amazing genres of music that can do incredible things and I'm just happy that they can coexist together in one... piece? Of music. (My opinion might be a lil different compared to my lesson time on their other vid but hey people change)

So, lets get on with the songs!

Road to Kingdom - T. O. P. (Covered by Golden Child) and Swan Lake - Tchaikovsky. I... honestly, I didn't hear it at first. The electro music covered up much of the phrase. (please forgive my horrible usage of musical terms im just a kid thats really into classical music, in still learning how to understand and appreciate it everyday mkay?) Well, that's what I thought at first but I guess the transition from electro pop to singing along with classical jarred me so much that I had to listen to it a couple times before catching it. Anyways, the singing kinda vibed a lil with the music but when they changed singers or went a higher key, it started loosing that (already really loose) connection because even though I knew the tchaik would go higher, the singer went higher in a different key and it felt pretty weird and strange like what Eddy said. But overall, id listen to it. ...which isn't really that high of praise since I listen to everything (oh man... the days when i could still rap eminem's rap god to perfection...)

Shinhwa - T. O. P. and Swan Lake - Tchaikovsky (again). I'm not mad at them for using this a lot actually. I've been trying to watch the ballet on youtube but my classical music listening and appreciation and understanding skills are not yet that refined. (Aka i was already a goner when aCT ONE SCENE TWO WAS STARTING. Sigh, i need more training... and more Inside the Score) aNYWAYS- To quote Eddy, oh tHATS SO WEIRD. I literally said it at the exact same time as him lol. But like seriously thoooo. I thought it was gonna like, transition to the piece but like. No. They're just... singing to the tune. I mean like, you can't ruin perfection you guys but like- add a tune? Or something of your own? That isnt just lyrics? Ah shit, now I cant stop imaging playboy!Tchaik ugh. Thank you for making my brain run a mile a minute and being the reason why I won't be sleeping for a couple hours.

Top Dog - Topp Dog and Symphony in G Minor, No. 25 - Mozart. When I heard the first notes of the piece, I reacted the same as both of them. Aka, i recognized it but I forgot the name. As you do with classical music. I've always wanted to download and listen to that piece. Maybe this is a sign... Anyways, the piece here really just vibed with the song ykno? I think its because they decided that they didn't want to overpower the piece by slapping their own music on top but like... they accented and accompanied and complimented it without the spotlight being stolen from them. They brought their own little twist to it and I feel like thats why it works so much. But, I still prefer the orig because it isnt just tHREE MINUTES LONG. (cue airhorns and fire emojis) But its a great combo overall. 10 out of 10, would classical again.

Jimin - Lie and La Vida Breve - Manuel de Falla. Honestly, to me, i feel like literally anyone could come up with that tune. Its like, a really fast beat. You know how almost every basic piece of music uses dun dun tss as a beat? Its kinda like that to me. Because, speaking from my own personal opinions here, fast beats sound nice and that doesnt necessarily mean that it was inspired by a fast part in a piece. Or maybe Jimin listens to classical. WhO kNoWs?

Cherry Bullet - Hands Up and Beethoven's Fur Elise. That "EeeEeeeh" part made me laugh out loud the first time i watched this vid. It still jarrs me like oh my god what the heck why. Dude, they literally just slapped that part into different parts of the song and im- you didnt need to give me more reason to be sick of the opening of Fur Elise. I feel like if I listened to that, the opening is gonna be stuck in my head forever. At least they didnt repeat the "EEEEEE" thing. And honestly, id love to agree with the bois on this one but like... the opening of the song itself broke me im so sorry im so hung over this one detail gOD.

Gfriend - Summer Rain and Schumann - Dichterliebe. All i can say in this part is... Thank you editor-san for adding in that one detail those precious boys missed. But, as ive only seriously gotten into classical recently and therefore arent familiar with a lot of composers works, i can only hear the influence in the beginning instrumental of the song. So uh... might give it a listen for detail. But, i probably wont.

And, oh yeah is it just me or do they seem really tired? Or just... kinda out of it in this one? Because at the end, Eddy was just kinda... playin around with ding ding while Brett carries the energy for the both of them. Hope theyre not stressed but if they are, i hope they get some much needed rest and energy. I also wonder what was up with yesterday. Aka, they didn't post a vid yesterday and i got cONCERNED. I just hope theyre alright.

[icyharrington]

Fever Dreams (Michael Langdon X Reader)

im just gonna go ahead and apologize for the fact that i literally did not proofread this at all bc im tired as fuck and have to wake up so fucking early tomorrow. i had so many technical difficulties writing this so i sincerely hope y’all enjoy reading this lmao

plot: (slight au taking place pre-apocalypse, in which miss robichaux’s academy integrates with the hawthorne school.) you can’t stand michael langdon. michael langdon wants nothing more than to get under your skin.

warnings: fem!Reader, intercourse, rough sex, dirty talk, spanking, school uniform michael 

word count: 3.1k

i.

“This is the best day ever,” whispered one witch to you, her eyes widening as a gaggle of fresh-faced men in well tailored uniforms strode into the dining room of Miss Robichaux’s academy.

“This is stupid,” you said bitterly, stabbing a fork into your food. “Integrating Miss Robichaux’s with Hawthorne is going to do nothing but distract us from the real important things.”

“Depends what you consider to be important,” said another witch. “I haven’t gotten dick in over a year.”

You rolled your eyes. You were the top witch in your class, and it was often whispered amongst your peers that you were next in line to become supreme. There was no way you’d let a bunch of testosterone-filled man-children get in the way of that, no matter how badly Cordelia wanted to be “inclusive”.

From the corner of your eye, you could see a man approaching you and your classmates. You refused to look over, taking a bite of food and staring blankly at the white wall across from you with as unfriendly of an expression on your face as you could manage.

“Ladies,” came a smooth voice, and you indulged yourself in a single discreet glance just to see what the guy looked like. He was tall, with well styled blond hair framing his face, which even you could admit had some top quality bone structure. He gave a small smile, but you could tell even through his polite demeanor that he was quite confident.

“My name is Michael Langdon. Thank you for welcoming us Hawthorne boys to your school,” he said, and you didn’t even have to look at your classmates to know that they were flustered. Stifling another eye roll, you turned your attention back to your plate.

“Hi Michael,” said the girl next to you, her voice breathy. She wasn’t even attempting to seem calm, which irritated you even further. The last thing this guy needed was an ego boost. You watched from the corner of your eye as he bowed slightly at the hip, his hand extended for her to shake.

He cleared his throat, and the girl on your other side nudged you slightly to get your attention. You looked up, and realized he was offering you his hand now. You just stared at it like it was a foreign object, hoping to piss him off.

He cocked an eyebrow at you and ran his tongue along his bottom lip.

“And you are?” He said. You were pleased to hear that he had the tiniest twinge of annoyance in his voice. Typical attractive boy, getting his ego bruised the minute a girl didn’t fawn all over him.

“(Y/n). I actually happen to be the top of the class here, and I don’t intend to let your kind get in the way of that.”

His lips turned up slightly on one end as his eyes surveyed you, and he crossed his arms in front of his flawlessly pressed blazer. “My kind?”

“Yes. Your kind. Men.” Maybe you were getting a tiny bit carried away with the bitch act, but something about this Michael Langdon character made you want to put him in his place. You had the feeling he was used to getting whatever he wanted whenever he wanted.

“Quite a backwards attitude to have in this day and age, don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” you said coolly. “But it’s the truth that women are superior in the art of witchcraft. So unless you need a tutor, I have no interest in interacting with you.” You stood up with a flourish, your chair screeching noisily against the wooden floor, and started on your way out.

You couldn’t help but look over your shoulder, though, to see his reaction. He simply stood there, hands in his pockets, an indecipherable expression across his face as he watched you. If you didn’t know any better, though, you might have even thought he was smiling.

ii.

It was a Saturday afternoon and you were practicing divination, your worst subject, in the living room. You’d asked one of your classmates to hide a series of objects throughout the room, and you were stuck as you tried to figure out the location of the final object, an old-fashioned golden pocketwatch.

You rubbed your temples and looked towards the ceiling, mumbling to yourself as you tried, unsuccessfully, to lift the fog in your mind.

You were so wrapped up in focus that you hardly noticed the sound of dress shoes crossing the wooden floor, and nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard a voice mere inches away from you.

“Is this what you’re trying to find?”

Your eyes shot open, only to find Langdon standing over you, a smug grin on his face as he dangled the watch out in front of him. Jumping to your feet from the couch, you snatched the object from his hand.

“Who told you where that was?”

“Nobody,” he said, pleased to witness your frustration. “Well, besides myself. I AM the top of my class in divination, you know.” There was a twinge of mocking to his tone, and you shot him a scowl.

“What are you even doing here?”

“What, am I not allowed to stroll the halls of my own lovely school?” he said, looking at you with mischief glinting in his piercing blue eyes. “The walls call out to me. I’m always hearing my name, echoing in and out of every corner.”

He stepped closer to you, and you scoffed. “Do you happen to excel in clairvoyance? Because those whispers might be all the thirsty girls at this school having wet dreams about you.”

He chuckled. “Does that bother you?”

“Why the fuck would that bother me?” you snapped, gathering your bag from the ground and swinging it over your shoulder. “Other than the fact that no one here gives a shit about witchcraft anymore, just about getting dicked down.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t been particularly interested in any of the girls here.”

“And I should care... why?” you brushed past him, huffing something about personal space issues under your breath as you tried to made your way to the door. Something, however, kept a hold on you, and your feet remained planted to the floor as Michael took a step closer to you.

“I think you’re jealous, (y/n),” he said, smirking again as he watched your face contort into anger. “Of the way I’m desired. Of the way I can have anyone I want. I can fuck a different witch every single day if I wanted to.” His voice was soft, seductive. Something swirled in the depths of your stomach as he spoke, but you ignored it.

You gaped at him, disgust blooming through you as you made another attempt to get away, in vain. “You really are a pompous dick.”

“Maybe,” he said, lips just inches from yours. You flinched, readying your fist at your sides to pummel him should he try anything. “But you, my dear, are a bitter bitch.”

With that, the hold on you broke, and you hurried towards the door. “Go fuck yourself,” you said, seething, not bothering to look at him.

“You’d like to see that, wouldn’t you?”

You knew it only fueled him when you gave him a reaction, but you couldn’t help it; flicking your wrist, you sent a book on the coffee table flying at his head, missing by mere centimeters as it slammed against the wall.

He only laughed, a low, deep luscious laugh that you knew you’d hear in your dreams.

Fucking asshole.

iii.

Lustful moans filled the air alongside the sound of skin slapping together, raw and vulgar, and you panted words that didn’t exist as the faceless man behind you thrust inside your walls.

The paintings on the walls watched you, the supremes of long ago casting shameful gazes upon your naked body.

You didn’t care.

There were hands on your body, hundreds of hands, some hot as embers and others cold as snow, and the all-white room seemed to stretch for miles and miles, the door evading you further with each second coaxing you closer to orgasm.

Michael, Michael, Michael, you thought, or said, or whatever it was, you couldn’t be quite sure, but your eyes were rolling back into your head now, lolling all the way until you could see the inside of your skull, and your brain, slimy and gray.

The world went white, but the man kept thrusting in you, taking you over, and you noticed a droplet of blood fall from your nose and onto the pristine, empty expanse of the ground.

AVE SATANAS, said a booming voice, and in that moment you came, harder than you ever had in your life, gasping for breath as your body convulsed with electrically charged pleasure.

When you woke up, it was past midnight, and you were drenched in a cold sweat. There was a throbbing ache between your legs, but you ignored it, begging the universe to let you fall back asleep undisturbed.

In the morning, you weren’t able to recall much about the dream, but there was no way you could forget the name which had repeated itself throughout like a taunt against your sanity.

Michael.

iv.

You were bothered enough by your dream that you opted out of the outing Cordelia had planned for everyone the next day. Her plan was to show the new students some of the most important magical landmarks around New Orleans, and you’d actually been pretty excited to go. Now, though, you’d much rather stay in your room and far away from Michael.

Whether or not your dream meant anything, he irritated you, and you didn’t feel like being put in a bad mood for the umpteenth time this week. So you stayed back, reading in your bed for a while, before you decided that you’d get something to eat from the kitchen.

Wearing only a skimpy tank top and shorts, you always feeling far too warm in the New Orleans heat, you rifled through the kitchen cabinets before deciding to have some Cheerios. You didn’t have much of an appetite at all, but you needed to eat something, so cereal was your meal of choice. You poured a bowl and headed back to the dining room, enjoying the fact that you had the usually chaotic house all to yourself.

Well, that’s what you thought, at least. You nearly dropped your bowl of cereal onto the ground in shock upon entering the dining room and seeing the last fucking person you wanted to see standing there, a bemused expression across his face.

“Michael,” you exclaimed, stopping in your tracks, all at once feeling extremely exposed in your revealing sleepwear. You put the bowl down before wrapping your arms around your prominent cleavage, embarrassment flooding your body as his blue eyes scanned your body not-so-discreetly.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said with a smile. You had a sneaking suspicion that he knew you’d stayed home to avoid him, and so he, too, had decided to stay back to give you an unpleasant surprise.

The only difference between the two of you, though, was that he was wearing his uniform, impeccably ironed and suited perfectly to his frame. This only increased the flush in your cheeks, and you avoided his gaze as best as you could. “Michael, why are you here?”

“Wasn’t feeling up to the trip,” he said, bored, taking a step around the dining table to come closer to you, dragging his toe lightly on the ground as he did.

“Bullshit,” you said, backing away just slightly. “You stayed here so you could fuck with me.”

“Now what would ever make you think that?” He tilted his head to the side pensively, eyes searing into yours, and you felt your stomach drop. “Silly little witch. You really think I care that much about you?”

“Oh, please. It’s so obvious that you wanna get under my skin.”

He took another step towards you. You backed up again, steadily, keeping your eyes on him as your breaths drew shorter.

“And have I?” He asked, looking down at you, and it was then that you realized how much taller he was than you. You swallowed nervously, taking another shaky stride back as he cornered you even further, your back coming closer and closer to the wall with each step. “Have I gotten under your skin?”

You shuddered, remembering the dream, and suddenly you felt powerless, like he could wipe out your existence at any given moment. You knew he liked you to feel this way, utterly helpless, and your brain screamed at you to react. To throw him across the room with a single flick of your hand. But you didn’t.

“I think I have,” he said, coming closer, and you were startled by a thud as your back hit the wall behind you. He had you cornered now, so you just stood there, looking at him like a deer in headlights.

“You’re such a fucking dick,” you said, fists balled at your side, but you had no intentions of using them.

“Hm? And what are you going to do about it?”

His lips brushed your cheek, sending a harsh chill down your spine. Your throat defied you, letting out a soft whimper, and then his lips were on yours. Without a moment’s hesitation, you kissed him back, unable to resist him as he consumed you. Your hair stood on end at his touch, his hands grazing down your hips and onto your ass, squeezing greedily.

He hummed in your ear softly, his hand reaching up to grip your neck. “See, isn’t this what you wanted all along?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to reply; he lifted his knee up between your legs, smirking as you gasped at the sudden contact. You rocked your hips forward, hissing at the feel of his dress pants between your thighs, and he kissed you again, hungry and authoritative.

He wrapped his hands under your bare thighs, hoisting them up to wrap around his waist, and once he had a proper hold on you, he turned around and tossed you onto the dining table. You pulled him towards you by the front of his shirt, connecting your lips with his and sliding your tongue between his teeth.

He pulled off your top and didn’t waste a second before roughly groping your breasts, leaning forward to suck one nipple hard while rolling the other between two fingers, occasionally applying a jarring pinch. Then he flipped you over onto your stomach, clearly eager to get to the real action, your breasts flattening against the cold wooden table as your bare feet grazed the ground. He pulled your shorts and underwear down in one go, leaving you entirely vulnerable and naked in his presence. It made it worse that he hadn’t undressed himself at all, but something about being so submissive to him turned you on more than you’d care to admit.

He massaged both of your ass cheeks, spreading them apart and reaching one hand under you to slide between your slick folds. “So fucking wet for me,” he muttered, digging his fingernails into your skin, causing you to whine slightly.

“Since you’ve acted like a bitch for the duration of us knowing each other, I have no choice but to treat you like one,” he said, gripping your right ass cheek before giving it a hard, firm slap. You surged forward, but he yanked you back towards him, giving you another slap on the other cheek, harder this time.

You moaned, and he gave you another spank. “You like being treated like a bitch? Huh?” He asked, grabbing a fist full your hair and yanking it back. “Answer me,” he demanded.

“Yes, Michael, fuck,” you grunted, your words separated with each spank he gave you, each one harder than the next. You were sure your ass would be covered in his hand prints for the next week, but you didn’t care.

He paused, and you could hear the tell tale sound of him unzipping his pants. You bit your lip, knowing what was coming next, and you wanted so badly to turn around and see his cock. You stayed put, though, knowing not to act without his permission, and within moments you felt the head of his dick rub itself along your slit.

“Beg me,” he said, letting his dick sit just against your entrance. You squirmed slightly, and he placed his hand on your lower back to hold you still.

“Please, Michael,” you said, hardly aware of the words leaving your mouth. You just wanted him inside you, wanted him to own you. “Please fuck me. I’ll be good from now on, I’ll do whatever you want. Please.”

He rubbed himself against your wetness again, painfully slow, and without warning he slammed himself inside. You gasped, shocked at his massive length, but he did not give you time to adjust before committing to a quick, intense pace. Thrusting inside you ruthlessly, you grasped at the edges of the table to hold yourself steady, a string of expletives leaving you as he fucked you hard and fast.

One hand yanked your head back, hard, by the hair, while the other wrapped around to grip your throat, your hips bucking back to meet his thrusts as you panted desperately, shouting incoherent words as tears filled your eyes and dribbled onto the wooden surface of the table.

“You’re like a bitch in heat,” he said smugly, stopping mid-thrust. “Beg me to cum.”

“Please, Michael,” you said, voice cracking, cheek resting against the table and palms flat on either side of you. You’d never felt so degraded in your life, but you loved it. “Please. Let me cum, I’ll be good, I swear.”

He finished his thrust, filling you up and making you cry out, and it wasn’t long before your walls clenched around him and you came, bursts of white-hot light in front of your eyes. Only seconds later, he had your hips gripped hard in his hands as he hurried to finish, and you could only imagine how beautiful his face might look on the brink of an orgasm.

He let go, grunting with each breath, his warmth flooding up inside you. You laid there, trying to recover as he tucked himself back into his pants, seemingly unbothered by the whole interaction. You, on the other hand, knew you wouldn’t be able to sit for a good week; it was well worth it to you, though, and as you re-dressed yourself, you hardly could bring yourself to mind the cocky way he smirked at you.

He looked as if he was about to speak, and you shot him a playful, yet slightly annoyed glance as you pulled your top back over your head. “Don’t even say anything,” you said, and he laughed.

That night, you dreamt of Michael again, but this time, you liked it.

[breezybadaboom]

[stay-hopefull]

Okay so. I've thought a lot abt writing things down but every time the effort of like. Sitting down and writing everything out is too much? Idk tbh

Past days ive been tired a lot again; monday was all day and today i started great! There's this online discord-"library" where you just turn on your camera but turn off your microphone and others do too and that way it doesn't feel like im studying alone all day. Short term its good for making me start on time and keeping me from wandeeing around the house aimlessly. It does however push me to do more than i can actually do spoon-wise? I think? Idk i did good work before noon and then ate and took a longer break, but then i sort of got mentallystuck on the couch

(okay this isn't the energy thing tho this is the fact that there was really bad communication from the teacher abt if class was a lecture (which i can stream) or guided excercises (which id have to independently figure out bc i cant go to class rn). And also there was miscommunication abt when class would start. Meaning that it was 15 minutes after when i thought class would start and i still had no idea what whas going on. And my brakn was kinda stuck like 'hey you have to watch this lecture' but there was no lecture. So i needed recalibration time. I did eventually succeed at figuring out what to do :) )

Anyway i was able to join the guided excercises via videocall with a friend who was there. So that was okay but also chaos bc there was lots of background noise and i couldnt find a sound level at which i could understand everything i needed to (without having to put concious effort into hearing ánd understanding people) but not overwhelmed by the (very similar) background noise. So i just had my brain struggle a bit more than it should've. And then i was really fuckening tired. And i literally just shut off the video call and laid my head on my arms bc there was No Energy For Anything. Moving to the couch 2 meters away was like impossible. I think it took me abt 15 minutes of laying there? And then i put my stuff back on my own desk and crashed in the couch. For like an hour. Which, yk, was probably an indicator that i'd done enough that day but noooo

My brain has this amazing tendency to say "you haven't finished your work so now you can't do anything else. Oh you can't work rn? Guess you'll spend time scrolling social media and feeling like your life has no purpose"

So i checked if anyone was in the library and there was so i joined them and continued studying. I think i did like 45 minutes? And then my dad said go eat so i did. But after that i went back to studying. I only stopped bc in high school i refused to keep working later than 8pm. And it was already 20h30. But yeah i started crying just before going to bed so i dont think today was as okay or repeatable as id like it to be. I feel kinda overworked and i have no idea how i'll manage 7 weeks of this + exams. Just today we received the dates of when reports are due and i already feel so behind on everything. I don't even know how much weeks of class have passed already. Its like one big blur of stress and anxiety and "you have to do this!" "You have to be there then!" "Remember to answer the 25 messages from yesterday!" "Oh yeah you're running out of food and haven't done the dishes in a week :)" and i keep telling myself that ill be fine, that ive done this before but like. At what cost. What's the point of keeping on doing this to myself. I just want it all to stop.

So that overwhelmed feeling is almost definitly the one that turns into breakdowns. Along with the voice that says 'you did this wrobg. You did that wrong. That's no good. Why did you do that. Stop trying. You'll never be good enough'.

I guess i can call them burn-out and impostor syndrome but right now giving them a name just makes me angry at how you can't get faciliteiten at uni unless you have a diagnosis and even then idk what that'd help with.

Im gonna sleep now i have class tomorrow morning :)

[tumblunni]

aaaaaugh that was a weird adventure of a normal thing seriously wtf how did I Almost Die from just trying to pay my electricity bills?? the electricity went out at midnight and I was having a WHOPPING GIANT MIGRAINE and seriously i suck at talking to cashiers on the best of days but now i have to call a taxi at midnight and sit there feeling awkward for like half an hour while the guy drives me several miles away to the only electricity place thats open 24/7 and like five minutes in i realized OH SHIT THIS MIGRAINE IS MORE SERIOUS THAN I EXPECTED but like i was trapped in a car and trapped in an awkward social situation! so i was here all dizzy and disassociating and like it felt like the window was a computer screen?? cos im nearsighted a lot and of course its gonna get even worse when i have a dizzy migraine of death doom. i was just so out of it with pain and tiredness and the car shaking me about and just it felt like i wasnt really there but i was still in my house just watching all this on the tv or something. i had to look down at my hands cos they were the only non blurry thing, i had to remind myself that i actually existed and wasnt somehow being erased from the world and replaced by a film reel of some guy sitting in a car?? So I am like Absolutely Fucking Nonfunctional here, and being acutely aware of how i forgot to wear my glasses and apparantly also my socks. Tho in my defense it would have been hard to put them on in the dark anyway! and seriously THIS POOR CAB GUY! like it seemed english wasnt his first language and i felt so bad cos like how can i make it clear that I am the one messing up here?? dude you didnt mishear me i really am slurring everything i say and forgetting half the dictionary. HE WAS SO NICE! I wish i could have like.. been able to register any of his individual faceparts as a coherant whole. I have problems with prosopagnosia even on a good day, but like whoa man i did not have the energy left to concentrate on what this guy even looked like. i feel bad cos i dont know his name either, im gonna remember him as just this big helpful shadow void with a nice accent. HOW DID YOU PUT UP WITH ME EMBARASSING MYSELF SO MUCH, YOU WONDERFUL CABMAN actaully wait do you call them cabs in america aa im sorry this post isnt very america translated i try and generally self-correct to america english cos i know like 90% of my followers seems to be america for some reason i do not understand HELLO AMERICDA FRIENDS TODAY okay so i was Dying in a taxi which is also called a cab, and the company was Capital Cabs which is very good and i love them and they have an automated system so you dont have to talk on the phone and seriously that cut like 50% of terror from this terror day SO ANYWAY I WAS DYING we go all over the place looking for the 24 hours electric place, and then for some reason they are closed?? there was a line outside and i think actually the doors got stuck and the cashiers couldnt get out??? what happened?? i guess i will never know cos i had to leave that mini story behind and find another electric hilariously we found one LITERALLY ACROSS THE ROAD there was THE SAME SHOP ACROSS THE ROAD FACING EACH OTHER MIRROR IMAGE WHAT like seriously fuck im already in a dizzy daze floating halfway out my own body like i didnt need any more evidence im currently in wonderland i want to know this story too, dammit! are those rival stores?? of the same brand?? somehow?? or are they owned by the same person?? because why?? is it like the area was so in-demand of small 24/7 shops that they had to make two within five metres of each other? or is it like they’re the same shop but they didnt have enough space to build the full size they wanted so they purchased two smaller land plots? or something? DID IT JUST EXIST FOR THIS SPECIFIC CIRCUMSTANCE OF ME NEEDING THE SHOP WHEN THE SHOP IS CLOSED “tumblr blogger tumblunni will show up fuckin migraine stoned on the 9th of november, as the prophecy foretold” omg i just mispelled prophecy as prophey and that sounds like a cute ass oc name holy shit ANYWAY im here dissacoiating my ass off and trying and failing to stick my debit card in the card machine and all the time im like FUCKIN OBSESSING over how sauboh is a really better name. Like faba is still a cute name but sauboh is a COOL name! no name is better than sauboh! and why u wanna this evil man have a cute name anyway?? when u be all cruel in the anime and sand off even the slightest non horrible edges he ever had, like seriously im unreasonably upset that everyone hates faba even more now. when will i get my sneaky science grandpa guy who is not evil for once but merely misunderstood and then i adopt him and hug him many and the all is resolved so yeah im fuckin haviung trouble focusing on what im actually doing jesus christ then i stumble into the store and i pay for my electric and im like ‘no no no fucking shit this migraine is WAY worse than i expected, im going to fucking die’ so i ask if they have any paracetamol but i cant remember the word for paracetamol and its all super embarassing. and like THE GUY LOOKS AT ME AS IF IM CRAZY. He’s all ‘ugh why would we have that, geez’. like wtf?? i mean i know i couldnt remember the name of it but i said ‘headache medicine’ so im sure he understood what i meant. i had a long rambling discussion with the taxi man about how weird that was, he was like ‘no, seriously EVERY 24 hour newsagent sells that stuff’ and i was like ‘no seriously he was rude to me for asking, like wtf’ and then i repeated the story about three more times cos i was currently in the throes of brain death in retrospect maybe the cashier thought i was drunk or something?? or high? i mean you cant get high from headache pills but i dunno maybe they mix badly with booze and he thought he was saving my life. i like to think the best of people! i wish i hadnt jumped to the grumpy conclusion during that moment and then whined like a lil bitch to this poor cab man and seriously he was SO NICE! he was like ‘dude seriously we’d have to drive anothr five miles to find another newsagent shop, im trying to save you money’ and he tried to give me some of the paracetamol he had in his wallet and i was like YOURE SO FUCKIN NICE IM DYING, I COULD NEVER ACCEPT THAT but also in retrospect probably that was a good decision cos even if the guy seemed super nice and trustable its like Good Life Policy to not take medicine from people you don’t know. I am 100% sure tho that he actually was genuine and wasnt gonna fuckin murder me with fakeacetamol HE WAS SO NICE! HIM AND HIS NONDESCRIPT FACIAL REGION! why cant i remember ANYTHING about this man oh and also I was able to give some money to a lady on the street!! i don’t know if she was actually homeless, she said that she had some trouble with a hotel booking or something so she was just stuck sleeping outside for the night. i cant remember if she had any luggage so i cant verify if the story is true, it just made me really sad wondering if it WASNT true and its like she needed to lie or people wouldnt give her money?? like seriously homeless people are the most vunerable yet theyre the ones people have the least sympathy for! wtf having to like like ‘i need the money less’... anyway i also couldnt remember her face and was kinda slurring my words to death and i didnt have much money to give but aaaa i hope i helped!! so yeah fuckin SMASH CUT to the next newsagent place and seriously i swear i blacked out for a minute cos it was just like wow we’re there in 48 seconds yet the clock says a bunch more miles and THEY HAD PARACETALMOL AND I WAS FUCKIN CRYING IN A SPAR MART thenk u cashier man who was probablyh very confused at this guy with no socks also for some reason my mind was wandering to the topic of what i’d do if i got misgendered in a cinema, like holding this fuckin entire fictional argument with this manifestation of my own self doubt WHAT EVEN INSPIRED THAT THOUGHT PROCESS so i’m nigh passing out and the nice cab man takes me home and he tries to make me pay less than the fee on the clock and im like NO DUDE IT WAS MY OWN CHOICE TO GO 2 PARACETAMOL SHOP seriously he was SO NICE why cant i remember his faaaaaace and i usually like to give a tip to the taxi guy even though tipping isnt really a thing in my country cos just i feel like Being Nice Is Nice and i want to thank them for their nice but i DIDNT HAVE ANY MORE MONEY LEFT so aaaa i was only able to give him an extra £0.50 but thank you taxi man i hope you have a good night and good life and the universe rewards you for helping a migraine fucked bunbun this eve and now ive shoved medicines in my fave and im just waiting for them to kick in and i know i should eat something but i feel so nauseous aaarglefargle also nice taxi man told me a story about how the same thing happened to him once except the electric went out while he was in the shower. So he just got blasted by cold water AND had to stumble down the stairs in the dark, and then friggin buy electric while his ears were still fulla soap. Whoa dude your bravery in face of embarassment exceeds my own! i love you platonically mr cab man thanks for making me feel less nervous and such while i was Die so yeah hopefully i will be less die soon ok bye also sauboh is a best name and i need to steal it for an oc or something NINTEND U LET IT SLIP AWAY

[slytheroccamy]

TJLC in The Six Thatchers *SPOILERS*

JOHNLOCK IN THE SIX THATCHERS ( please read, it'll be worth your time I promise) Okay so I watched The Six Thatchers maybe 8 times now and have a few things I would like to point out to provide further evidence that JohnLock will happen in The Final Problem and would like to hear your thoughts! I know this is really long, but I went into extreme detail of the episode and I think it's worth reading, especially since Rebekah is likely not going to make an episode on it. Anyway, without further ado, All evidence of Johnlock in The Six Thatchers. 

 1) On the fridge I'm sure we all saw the pamphlet with the elephant, but directly above it is a post-it note with 13th written on it. I started thinking what this could mean and then realised that including TAB, The Final Problem would be episode 13 of Sherlock. The elephant will be addressed finally in the 13th episode. 

 2) Can we please note the ridiculously not so subtle water imagery throughout the episode? literally overlaying sherlocks face? 

3) the main villan of the episode was refered to constantly (before the reveal of her identity) as Ammo, which we find out actually means Love. and said villan ends up killing mary, the one thing standing between sherlock and john. (sidenote I do love Mary as a character and was sad to see amanda go, I knew it had to be done for the sake of Johnlock)  also, convenient that John now has a child, something John and Sherlock wouldn't of been able to have on their own. 

4) Save John Watson. Save him. Save him Sherlock. Save him from what exactly? Oh I don't know maybe the repressed sexuality he has been hiding all these years? Save him from the pain of staying in the closet? (which is pretty painful, I know from experience. You really do feel saved when you fall in love for the first time) also, Save John Watson; the skip code sent to Mary in the Empty Hearse. In which John was being burned... as in "I will burn the heart out of you" burned. just saying. 

5) Free as a bird. #ohwhatabeautifulmorning Here are the lyrics to oh what a beautiful morning - There's a bright golden haze on the meadow, There's a bright golden haze on the meadow, The corn is as high as an elephant's eye, An' it looks like its climbin' clear up to the sky. Chorus: Oh what a beautiful morning, Oh what a beautiful day, I've got a wonderful feeling, Everything's going my way. - Okay how many songs do you know have the word elephant in them? not many, and of course the one song sherlock tweets is about everything going perfectly and mentions a freaking elephant... Also, It's from Oklahoma! the Musical... which you can read about the relevance to in Rebekah's tumblr blog 

 6) John's Blog We get a quick shot of John's Blog in the opening, (the real life counter part of the blog is no longer being updated) but it's important to note that the counter is no longer stuck at 1895! They've broken past the barrier of the suppressive time period! Also, the titles of the blogs (in order of apperance) are:

 221Back! (which from what I can read off the blurred image, is about how he hasn't written in a while and that he'll try to write everything up soon, and that he's going to be a dad) 

 Dusty Death (a case about a woman who's husband drowned, but had sand in his lungs not water.) 

 Unknown Blog Entry (about a man who came in looking white as a sheet and a wound in his hand. We don't know much about this case except that it was the wrong thumb?)

The Duplicate Man (How could Dennis Parkinson be in two places at once and murdered in one of them? Again don't know much excpect that it's never twins.) 

 The Circus Torso (Limbless body found decomposing in trunk in waterloo wouldn't be identified.) 

 The Canary Trainer (Andrew Wilson was an unusual man with an Unusual hobby. He seemed to have no connection to the man whos life was so abruptedly ended one freezing night) 

 The Cardiac Arrest (Joel Fentiman was found strangled in the bedsit he shared with his brother. They had always got on well and there was no sign that the situation had changed... we could never have known that there was a potential assasin lurking close by.) I may be reading too much into this one, but perhaps, since people view sherlock and johns relationship as platonic and brotherly, they share a flat, and according to the non tjlc viewers, there is no sign that that would be changing. and if it were to continue on that way, the more than platonic relationship would die. Strangled. not able to speak. or breathe. Suffocated by an assasin... cough mary cough. Again, could be reading too much into this one. 

 7) Sherlock's Tweets There are many in the first act of the episode and it goes by fast but here is what I could collect in order. 

Free as a Bird 

#ohwhatabeautifulmornin 

#221BringIt! 

 8) The Canary Trainer Woman: "Didn't see that coming" Sherlock: "Naturally" The woman is the viewers, this is made apparent by the fact that she is viewing sherlock over a device and not face to face in person like a typical client. 

 9) John's Missed calls from Mary John has 59 missed calls from mary after he spends all his day with sherlock... hmmm in SIB John mentions that Sherlock has had 57 texts from Irene, sherlock recieves two texts from Irene after this point, Im not dead lets have dinner and goodbye mr holmes. making 59 total texts from Irene. Not sure if there is an important connection here but as mycroft so fondly pointed out, there are no such things as coincidences. so take this as you like. 

 10) Sherlock Watson Sherlock mentions yet again that he wants them to name their daughter Sherlock because her thinks it would sound good, he likes the name Sherlock Watson. Of course Mary and John both remind him that it's not a girl's name, to which Sherlock just grins 

 11) Sherlock is named Godfather to the child. it's a strectch but Father is in the title and Mother is gone by the end so... 

 12) Margaret Thatcher Okay so as the title of the episode and the main story line, this is really important. Margaret was one of the greatest Prime ministers of all british history... except for one glaring flaw... she was very anti-gay. Okay, so, the Welsborough couple are mirrors to John and Sherlock, this is clear from the fact that their case begins with a reflection in a balloon. Also because they say they had no life before they met eachother, much in the way john's blog blatently states he literally had no life whatsoever before he met Sherlock. When they kiss, the wife says "she's looking at us disapprovingly again" referring to the Thatcher bust, this however would make no sense unless it's not refering to them as a straight couple but instead their mirrors John and Sherlock, because as I previously stated, Maragret Thatcher was very anti-gay. Throughout the episode busts of Thatcher are being broken in order to find or free something hidden. The are literally shattering the anti-gay minister in order to free something hidden... come on people. this is so glaring its almost baffling how other a handful of us have figured out the true drive of the show. (side note, the power ranger on Charlies car is blue... guess what the name of the blue power ranger is? Billy. Also he was considered the brains of the group) Later in the show sherlock finally catches on to whats happening with the busts and the following conversation occurs between sherlock and lestraude. 

 L: and now someones wandering about destroying them all. Makes no sense whats the point? 

S: No theyre not destroying them. Thats not whats happening 

L: yes it it 

S:Well it is whats happening but its not the point... Ive been slow, far too slow 

L: well im still being slow over here so if you wouldnt mind... 

S: slow but lucky, very lucky. 

 *takes deep breath* okay. so if we read this conversation with the busts representing heteronormativity in media, or the straight perception of the show, and lestraude as the audience, we are being told that yes the physical busts are being destroyed but thats not the point. the point is johnlock. the general audience still doesnt see it, some people are catching on, but the whole thing has been moving very slow, because the writers dont want to rush it, they want to do this right, and in order to do that they need to build up a story for years, a story that will change the way we see things, but without throwing it at us abruptly and randomly. This is a love story remember, and love stories need build up or it feels forced. and this is something that should in no way feel forced. 

 13) Titles This fun little concersation: *talking about the Ghost Driver case* Sherlock: "Dont give it a title" 

John: "people like titles" 

Sherlock: "I hate titles" 

John: "give the people what they want" 

Sherlock: "no, never do that, people are stupid. 

 Mary: "uhm some people" 

Sherlock: "All people are stupid.... most people." 

 you sure were still talking about blogs boys? Everyone wants to title them as platonic and friends and all this jazz to which sherlock says he hates titles and then goes on to say that most people are stupid, implying that there is a section of people who nderstand and arent blind to the obvious cough cough club tjlc 

14) John's Hair I think it's important to note that John is using a lot more product in his hair this season, and as Sherlock Holmes himself pointed out, Product in the hair is a sign of gayness, previous seasons said john only washed his hair, there was a difference. now hes upgraded to full product, clearly taking more of an interest in maintenance of himself. Not to impress mary, theyre already married what's he got to impress at this point? unless hes not trying to impress anyone it's just for himself. which is according to sherlock, kind of gay. 

 15) SOMETHINGS COMING Throughout the literal entire episode it is constantly repeated that something is coming! The want to make it obvious that it is coming something big is going to happen! Sherlock has a little rant about how by analysing everyones movements and patterns the future is entirely predictable mathmatically. well guess whose been doing that the entire time? Us. The TJCL cool people who have dedicated countless hours into analysing characters to discover that Johnlock will happen in the Final Problem. well done guys yay! Sherlock didn't like the original ending of Appointment in Samarah, she he WROTE HIS OWN ENDING The transition for that scene you may ask? Glass... shattering...onto.....a...shattered...bust...of...antigay...margaret...thatcher .........Guys... come on... they are screaming it to us at this point. 16) Now that youve pointed it out Sherlock talks Mr Kingsley through his deductions, after which mr K states that once he'd explained it, it was quite obvious...(cough cough johnlock) to which sherlock gets offended and making up a bunch of lies, namely, says his wife is the most dangerous spy in the world, operating deep undercover. 

17) game face Theres a weird moment where the margaret bust is transposed onto sherlocks face, and then lestraude says that shelock doesnt look pleased. sherlock replies with "this is my game face". Keeping in mind that Thatcher busts in this episode represent the heteronormativity in media, sherlock is putting on a face, a face to appeal to heteronormativity but he isnt pleased. He isn't pleased with wearing the game face anymore... because it's not a game anymore... johnlock, isnt a gameface anymore and the heteronormative mask is going to come off soon. 

 18) Toby the dog = Johnlock 

J: "Hes not moving" 

S: "Hes thinking" 

J: "Hes really not moving" 

S: "Hes slow and sure john, not dissimilar to yourself" 

J: "You just like this dog don't you" 

S: "Well I like you" 

Mary: "Hes still not moving." 

*enters montage of Sherlock's theme melting into John's chords in a major key. in a visual pattern identical to John and Sherlock running through the streets of london in SIP*

19) Sherlock. Holmes. Falling. Through. Shattering. Glass. Into. A. Pool. Of. Water. With. Waves. Painted. On. The. Walls. Forcing. A. Man. To. Choke. On. A. Waterfall. 

 20) Promotional posters In a poster for the Final Problem, there shows a violin with the E string broken. if anyone has a theory to what this represents please let me know. On a seperate poster john and sherlock are in their chairs staring at eachother with the room flooded in water and a tea cup floating between them 

 21) GWJ GWJ is spray painted on the door outside of the location where Mary and Sherlock meet... Theories for what this stands for? Like... Gay with John? or Go with John? or Gratiss Wants Johnlock? 

 22) So many lies J: so many lies and I dont just mean you. we find out john means the almost affair here, BUT I don't think so. Okay for started the almost affair broke my heart so I wont be talking about it at all, but the fact that it was even considered means John isnt 100% happy in this marraige. He wouldnt even consider it otherwise. But what isnt he happy with? He loves mary, we all do, shes awesome. Hes got a beautiful child, and is still solving crimes with his best friend... unless... unless he Isn't happy with mary because even though he loves her... He loves someone else more... Sherlock. And being around Sherlock all the time and not knowing Sherlock loves him back while being married has got to be taxing and is definately something that could push someone to consider having an affair. Hes sick of lying to mary and hes sick of lying to sherlock. Hes sick of lying to everyone, he just wants to be out of the dang closet guys! 

 23) E Okay. Im not going to talk bout the almost affair because im still mad at John for it, but I have to talk about the mystery woman whom it involved. E. Earlier I said there was a promo image with a violin with a broken string, the E string. Now, when we learn about the lies and the almost affair, we see E through the reflection of the plane window. so we know shes a mirror. But a mirror for whom? John? Mary? She is wearing a rose on a necklace, and we know mary's name is actually Rosamund.If it's mary why would John be having an affair with someone who mirrors his wife? Maybe becuse he feels that Mary is the affair and his real relationship is with Sherlock? We also see E next to a poster for the seasons villan and the words It's Murder. Coming soon. Hes Back. and if E really is a mirror for Mary than that's not that big of a jump since Mary is murdered at the end of the episode. 

 24) The Vauxhall Bridge The Vauxhall bridge is known for it's statues on the pillars which are hidden to anyone on the bridge, and instead only visible to those on the water... a lot of water in this episode guys... a lot. 

 25) When Sherlock sends John and Mary different texts at the same time. to Mary he says "The curtain rises The last act Its not over." Thats a nod to us, the viewers. Telling us when johnlock is going to happen. the last act. The Final Problem. and not to give up hope because of John shutting out sherlock at the end of the episode. Theyre telling it its okay, its not over, all will be revealed in the last act. 26) water water water freaking everywhere opening, water rosies's mobil has fishes, rosie's baptism. Sherlocks face overlayed with water as hes taking to mycroft about destiny. Sherlock fighting with ajay in lots of water Sherlock meeting with Mary in the rain Sherlock standing on a bridge above water Mary getting freaking shot in an aquarium.... SHerlock goes to therapy and what does Ella have on the table? Water. Guys... come on... 

 27) What to do about John? 

S:I need to know what to do

 E:Do? 

S:About John. 

*increased heartbeat is heard in background* 

 What's the worst thing you can do to your closest friends? Tell them the truth. Sherlock hun you gotta tell John how you feel. 

 28) Molly We only see Molly once in this episode and shes a mess. we know shes a john mirror so john is a total wreck at this point, but is really sorry for shutting out Sherlock. 

 29) Closing Can Samarra be avoided? Im looking at the merchant story as the Sherlock Holmes story as it's always been told. Two platonic friends who are just that. And like how Sherlock wrote his own ending, where the merchant goes to another town and lives, Moffat and Gratiss are writing their own end. One where Sherlock and John get to live free and be together. Free from the 1895 lock around their story. Can samarra be avoided? Well it fades to water and then we get Mary telling Sherlock to go to Hell (no idea what that means gunna be completely honest here) but I think that the whole point of the episode is yes. samarra can be avoided. and thats what their going to do. write a new ending. because as moffat says, if youre not writing it to change something, to correct someone, than you shouldnt be writing it at all. 

 SO there we go. Those are all the things I found in the 6 Thatchers. I would love to hear what you all think,. Thank you to anyone who read all the way through. Im so blessed to have been apart of this amazing journey with all of you. Now all we need is a gay disney princess am I right? Seriously though, I love you all and am blessed to be in such a great community here. 

TL;DR johnlock is real. it will happen. and it will happen in the final problem.