aim for the impossible

personally, i find starting a new semester is more significant than starting a new year. so i figured i’d write a guide for myself and you guys to succeed. hope ot helps xx

1. recreate your study space

i find having having the same setting on your desk all the time makes you less productive. so what i recommend doing is to recreate your study place by replacing things. if you keep your pens on the right side of desk move them to the left and if you can and things it’ll help you move your whole desk somewhere else.

additionally, clean. clean your desk, your drawers and everything you need for your study. if that still doesn’t work - clean your whole room.

2. set some goals that are not impossible yet not that easy to achieve

in my opinion, you always need some goals to motivate you to do something. i have made the mistake of those goals being too big and unreachable. however, if you do decide to aim for something that seems impossible make sure to put some milestones on the way to reach on the go.

3. do not only study right before a test

this is probably a tip that pretty much everyone has given you already, i know. it was the same with me but weirdly i only learned it after my nutrition teacher told us in 10th grade.

it doesn’t mean that you have to study each subject as hard as you would if you had a test the next day just revise one chapter or a few pages every once in a while.

4. plan your day 

before i decided to get a bullet journal i found this so unnecessary but now i am eager to cross off as many things as i have written down to do each day.

but be careful though. even if crossing off many things is satisfying try not to overschedule yourself. it’s less depressing to have 3 out of 3 things done than to have 5 out of 12 things done.

5. first things first

it may be tempting to do whatever you can cross off easily before all the other things but nevertheless, try to do more important things first especially if they are more time-consuming.

if this is totally impossible for you make sure to at least get started. that way you’ll decrease the risk of procrastination.

6. don’t forget to care about yourself

as a person that gets too obsessed with reaching her goals i often forget to care about myself. please try to avoid making that mistake and plan at least half an hour a day for self care.

7. do some exercises every once in a while to stay fit

try some yoga or pilates for relaxation and against a tense back after spending a day in front of your desk. additionally stretch in the morning to get ready for a successful day.

8. hydration and food

i have learned this very late but hydration is so important. drink some water as soon as you get up and bring something to drink anywhere you go for longer than an hour.

also, i love to snack while i study. despite all those study snack pictures of hummus, fruits and avocado don’t feel guilty if your snack consists of crisps. as long as your nutrition doesn’t consist a 100% of junk food some unhealthy snacks are totally okay.

9. find some motivating stuff

motivation is key to successful studying. as mentioned earlier your motivation can be a goal you want to achieve. however, it can also be a role model or simply a quote.

10. find a way that works for you

i did a masterpost on this some time ago:

- study methods and motivation

I just read that list of “cis privileges” on Everyday Feminism, and I find it hard to believe a feminist even wrote it. 130 examples of “as a cis, you don’t have to …” and most of them are either not privileges at all for women, or literally things women are subjected to as a form of oppression and always have been.

“The curriculum at your school is more likely to center the experiences and perspectives of people who share your experience of gender”? What the actual hell? The whole education system is centered around males - we read about men in history, about male scientists, male experiences, male litterature … Women (especially women of colour, black women, marginalized women) are literally written out of history, out of humanity, and some shithead dares to write they’re privileged because no history book contains a “genderfluid” person? Hell, we are lucky if we get to read about and take part in the experiences of women subjected to the sex based oppression of women. Not much of that in the school curriculum these days. No, matter of fact is, in academia, queer theory is still the rage, despite it being regressive and misogynistic. Or maybe because it is?

“You don’t have to worry that a health center on your campus will not be able to provide you with competent care on the basis of your gender identity or expression”. Okay. Let’s take this slowly. 1) Your health has nothing to do with your “gender identity or expression”. If anything, it has to do with your biological sex, that needs to be taken into account. Your body doesn’t care you identify as non-binary. 2) It’s a well known fact women’s health is underprioritized, that women are silenced and shamed when it comes to health issues, and that women are actually not taken seriously by doctors and are sometimes denied health care on the basis of them being women, that is, female human beings. This goes for both physical and mental health care.

I could go on. “Cis privilege” isn’t real, especially not for women. “Cis privilege” is a made up concept (made up as in, it has no bearing on reality, just like gender identity politics itself) aimed at scaring women to silence and rendering fighting sex based oppression impossible. Aimed at rendering what’s actually real - that is, male privilege - invisible. It is nothing but vile.

M is for Maw

A future, to-be-expanded chapter of my Eliza Shepard alphabet fic, in honor of all the Sole Survivors out there. 


Shepard, Garrus was learning, had a damn strange sense of humor. Maybe it was a human thing, maybe it was a Spectre thing – he couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that he called her “commander” exactly once after the Normandy left the Citadel, and after her face very clearly said fresh meat, she referred to him as “Officer Garrus Vakarian, formerly of C-Sec” for a solid week. 

“I didn’t quit,” he reminded her, as they bumped along in the Mako. Wrex snored nearby, so for all intents and purposes, this was a private conversation. The first, he realized, gripping his safety harness a little tighter. 

She swore under her breath and gunned the thrusters; somewhere under his feet, the Mako whined, and Garrus started making a mental checklist of everything he’d need to repair when they got back. “So you keep telling me,” she said, once the Mako sprang free of the waist-deep mud and plunged forward. “I didn’t know C-Sec let you take leaves of absence.” 

“It’s not common,” Garrus said, definitely not thinking about Pallin’s expression – and the specific phrasing the Executor used – when he’d requested a leave to work with the First Human Spectre. “But it does happen. I think I made a strong case.” 

Shepard laughed, an unexpectedly light and clear sound over the roar of the engines. “I bet you did, Garrus. You were chomping at the bit to go after Saren long before I showed up. So tell me – how’s that working out so oh for fuck’s sake.” 

The Mako had stalled again, wheels whirring in the stinking mud that Garrus could smell even through four layers of air filters. 

“We’re going to break an axle if this keeps up,” Shepard said. She grimaced and scratched at her amp. “Want to come get some air and check it out?” 

“The atmosphere’s toxic, comma – sure, Shepard,” Garrus replied. She gave him a smug look as she sealed her helmet, but kept any other comments to herself.

“Keep an eye on things, Wrex,” Shepard called as she unsealed the hatch. 

Wrex, who hadn’t bothered to take his helmet off to begin with, shrugged a little deeper in his seat and kept snoring. 

“Ass,” Shepard muttered over the comms, with what sounded suspiciously like affection to Garrus, and swung outside. 

A few rocks dotted the muddy plains, which meant Garrus didn’t need to slog through the mud but got to skip around like a kid instead. Shepard managed to look both graceful and efficient as she moved, never once off-balance or over-cautious. 

Garrus watched her check the Mako over with the usual stew of emotions in his gut: admiration, a fierce urge to start an argument for no good reason, pride that he got picked to work alongside her, confusion over all her idiosyncracies, and a thick wash of envy. Why her, instead of him? 

He tried to remind himself his time would come – and a good working relationship with a Spectre would only help when it did – but the envy stayed put. It didn’t help that Shepard did everything so confidently, whether that was kicking mud off the Mako’s axle or taking down a geth colossus. 

At least she deserves to be a Spectre, he told himself, and bent to start cleaning off the rear axles. 

The stones under his feet vibrated, faint enough that he could blame it on the engines, but Shepard jerked upright at the edge of his vision, her head whipping back and forth as she scanned the horizon. 

“Shepard?” he asked. She ignored him. He couldn’t read her face through her visor, but a fine tension rode her shoulders, set her spine steel-straight. “What is it?” 

The vibration changed – it deepened, widened, until the Mako shuddered and the mud churned at his feet. 

Shepard made a choked noise, barely audible over the engines and the vibration, and reached over her shoulder. Not for her shotgun, Garrus noticed, his gut clenching, but her never-used assault rifle. 

“Shepard!” he shouted, as the ground opened up fifty meters ahead of them. 

She screamed and opened fire. 

To the day he died, long after he knew the truth, Garrus remembered her scream. It didn’t sound like any sound a living throat could make, and it went on and on until it was all he could hear, and by the time he figured out that he was hearing the maw’s shriek along with Shepard, she was shoving him back inside the hatch. 

“Get – get on the guns!” she yelled, throwing herself into the driver’s seat. Wrex was already raking the maw with machine gun fire, and Garrus heaved himself behind the grenade launcher controls. It was damn near impossible to aim with Shepard zig-zagging across the plain and the maw’s acid spattering less than a meter away, but he managed more than a few hits he was proud of, later. 

When the maw’s body finally hit the ground, and stayed there, Shepard didn’t stop. She kept driving, her hands so tight on the wheel Garrus wondered that he couldn’t hear them creaking, and over the comms he heard the high, whining note of her breathing. 

So the great Commander Shepard’s not always so confident, he thought, to make himself feel better. It didn’t help. He stared at the back of her helmet, listened to Wrex mutter about not getting enough action, and remembered one word. 


This maw didn’t count for his kill list, Garrus decided. The next one, definitely – but this one, this one he’d forget. 

Slowly, Shepard’s breathing went back to normal, but her hands stayed tight on the wheel, all the way back to the Normandy

The Apologist’s Anti-Elenchus

If Socrates were one of today’s apologists, his method wouldn’t look like this:

  1. Socrates’ interlocutor asserts a thesis, for example “Courage is endurance of the soul”, which Socrates considers false and targets for refutation.
  2. Socrates secures his interlocutor’s agreement to further premises, for example “Courage is a fine thing” and “Ignorant endurance is not a fine thing”.
  3. Socrates then argues, and the interlocutor agrees, that these further premises imply the contrary of the original thesis; in this case, it leads to: “courage is not endurance of the soul”.
  4. Socrates then claims that he has shown that his interlocutor’s thesis is false and that its negation is true.

It would, instead, look as follows:

  1. Socrates claims to have shown that his thesis is true and that all other theses are false.
  2. Socrates then asserts, despite the interlocutors doubts and disagreements, that his premises refute all other theses; in this case, it leads to: “god necessarily exists.”
  3. Socrates ignores his interlocutor’s demand for justification and evidence.
  4. Socrates’ interlocutor argues a thesis, for instance, “God does not necessarily exist,” which Socrates considers false because his thesis must be true.

As stated, philosophy of religion is the inversion of Socrates method. The apologist’s interest in dialogue goes as far as their belief that they can convert their interlocutor or sway minds in an audience, assuming there is one. The apologist otherwise doesn’t see any use for debate, for the apologist thinks it impossible to be proven wrong. Socrates’ elenchus aimed at discovering the truth of a matter whilst the apologist’s anti-elenchus aims at verifying what he already takes to be the case. Philosophy is about seeking truth rather than about verification of beliefs. Philosophy of religion simply has no place in the enterprise of philosophy. It is pseudo-philosophy and should be blacklisted as such.

Loose Theory: Illyrian Females

If you haven’t been in the loop, the ACOWAR cover is coming out tomorrow. On Snapchat Bloomsbury is releasing small bits and pieces. In the newest update Feyre’s (I think) hand has been revealed. There’s a tattoo, parts of the night sky and stars, and she’s holding an Illyrian blade.

Most of this theory is stretching, but that’s all we can all do, really. 


This mostly just me hoping but, what about Illyrian females? We’ve talked about them a bit. They get their wings clipped after their first bleeding and Rhys and Cassian are working to have them trained. 

In ACOMAF Rhys/Cassian both question Devlon about the training of the females. Devlon says that they have to do their chores before training. Cassian says training before chores. The point is they are training, if only slightly. 

I do believe it’s Feyre on the cover, but I think she’s holding an Illyrian blade for a reason. And I don’t think it’s for Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel. We know them. We love them. 

I think the fact a female is holding an Illyrian blade is very important. Which leads me to believe Illyrian females might be in ACOWAR. How cool would that be? Do you know how badly I want an army of Illyrian females in fighting leathers? All the different weapons they use? 

Give me some with siphons! Purple? Gold? Orange? Give me a rainbow of siphons. Give me one with an Isabelle Lightwood whip. Give me one that has impossibly accurate aim with a bow and arrow. Give me one that holding fights with small knives, up close and personal.

I want Illyrian females. I want half-breeds like Rhys so they have pointed ears, I want bastard borns, I want warlords’s daughters who are just NOT putting up with misogynists. I want orphans. I want them all. 

An army of Illyrian females is my new aesthetic. If I don’t get female Illyrians I am rioting. 

Bonus: Who would train said Illyrian females? Who knows the ins and outs of battle skills and maneuvers? Cassian. Cassian knows. Cassian, the High Lord’s General Commander. Cassian, one of the most powerful Illyrians in history. That’s who.

Haikyuu!! Chapter 247: Day 02

I really like the cover for this chapter. It’s a good choice by putting both Kenma and Hinata together. The rivalry between Karasuno and Nekoma are truly important for all of them. Ukai pretty much gets it. (While I cannot help laughing at the snickering Kuroo and stink-eyed Daichi, these two captains probably takes the whole rivalry more seriously than the rest)

It is what motivate them to keep going and aiming for the previously impossible dream. I believe that’s not going to change anytime soon with Karasuno facing their greatest hurdle yet.

Inarizaki High School. Previous runner up of the Inter High and Miya Atsumu’s school. Honestly, the way Ukai describes the team really gives us the sense of how formidable this team is. I wonder what kind of strategy Ukai comes up with. But I cannot help be amused by certain people’s reactions.

Kageyama and his matter of fact explanations and obliviousness to the reaction to his words.

The Idiot Duo™ simplistic and optimistic approach (feat. unimpressed Tsukki, that’s one hell of side-eye).

And surprise, surprise, there are two Miyas!

Are that different hair color and parting line intentional I wonder? What’s up with the twins in sports? Daiya has twins as a battery pair too.

While all of those are interesting, the highlight of this chapter for me is the Ukais. I’ve been wanting to see more of these two. I wonder what the old, experienced coach of a grandfather thinks of his unexpected coach of a grandson, who manages to get to the Nationals in his first year as a coach. Now that put it down in words, Ukai is as surprising as his players. The old Ukai even points out how bad he is as a player, but at the same time he notes how good he is as a coach.

While he’s still rough at the edges, Ukai’s really getting the handle of this coaching thing. He can stand his ground as seen from the above panel. He quickly picks up that Takeda is gonna get steamrolled and immediately intervenes. He is likely the youngest and the least experienced coach around, but here he’s asking an experienced coach to help with their warm-up instead. He’s as gutsy as his players, honestly.

What also catches my attention is the championship bracket.

There should be 6 rounds in total CMIIW, and Karasuno will meet Nekoma in third round and Itachiyama in sixth round or in the finals.

Somehow… I doubt Karasuno will get that far. I’m not being pessimistic, I’m just being realistic. The first round against Tsubakihara has pretty much established how high the level of skill of the high school teams in the nationals. While Karasuno managed to win straight two sets, it doesn’t change the fact that they’re still scraping by (I’d say the same for Nekoma, too). They have the potential of growth, and they have grown through the matches against strong opponents, but there’s so much growing you can do during matches or even a championship. Then there’s that edge gained from sheer stubbornness and persistence usually in form of momentum or luck.

The third round match against Nekoma will be the most difficult match for Karasuno because of what it means for both Karasuno and Nekoma. The fulfillment of a promise, the long-awaited match, the settlement of the score, and the appeasing of the old coaches. There’s so much riding on a single match that I don’t doubt that both teams will give their all, throw their heart and soul into that game. They are not likely to think to play it safe, and to think of long term. They will push themselves to the limit. Whoever ends up winning the battle of trash heap, they will be completely drained. They will struggle to pick themselves up, not only mentally but physically. If they manage to do so in the fourth round, there’s a chance they can forge ahead, but winning the championship? Well….

That’s just a thought really. I trust Furudate-sensei to have everything planned, and so far Sensei hasn’t led us (or probably just me) astray. So I’ll just enjoy the ride. I wonder how good the second strongest team in Japan is.
Every One Direction Solo Single, Ranked
With the release of Liam Payne's Quavo-featuring "Strip That Down" last Friday (May 19), fans at long last have a complete set of One Direction solo singles: All five members have made their entrance as proper pop solo entities. In honor of these new benchmarks for the solo 1Ders, we've decided to rank all 10 of the solo singles they've collectively released so far.

With the release of Liam Payne’s Quavo-featuring “Strip That Down” last Friday (May 19), fans at long last have a complete set of One Direction solo singles: All five members have made their entrance as proper pop solo entities.

What’s more, “Strip” makes it an even ten singles between the five members – not counting Harry Styles’ promotional quasi-single “Sweet Creature” – with Zayn obviously doing most of the heavy lifting, after his near-year head start on the other four.

In honor of these new benchmarks for the solo 1Ders – including our most recent cover star, the recently minted “grown-ass-man” Niall Horan – we’ve decided to rank all 10 of the solo singles they’ve collectively released so far. Read on below, and look forward to our list certainly ballooning in size (and debatability) in the years to come.

Keep reading

Jaehyun - 무한적아 (LIMITLESS)

(Edited! - Thank you to my beta Raisin for helping me out! <3)

I’m still not completely done with the editing but I wanted to release the story with the second part. So yeah, I hope you’ll enjoy my mafia!jaehyun/ mafia!nct scenario, whoop whoop!

Also, English isn’t my mother tongue so I apologise for any mistakes that might occur. 

Length: 5,464 words

Warnings: Mafia AU, Mentions of guns, a lot of swearing.

Ship: ReaderxJaehyung

Originally posted by yuseols

Locking yourself inside the empty building, you couldn’t help but to quietly curse and sigh tiredly. Behind you the heavy door shut close and you groggily made your way to the changing room. The corridors in the basement felt never-ending, the clinical white walls and floor gave off way too much hospital vibes for your taste – you hated the idea of being the only person in the building and you partly blamed the arrangement and partly all of the horror movies you’d stupidly watched when you were younger.

When you first walked into the changing room, you were met with unsettling darkness until the automatic lights started to work. Walking through the maze of lockers, you made sure to spread your arms widely and move them up and down like a fucking bird or something like that so the lights wouldn’t just turn off while you were still inside the changing room – you’d tried that once before and there was no way your poor heart would survive that experience again. Especially not now when you were all alone.

Reaching your own locker, you unlocked the lock with a key from the bunch of keys in your backpack before opening it and reaching for your work clothes.

You weren’t supposed to start your shift already but you’d received a text from your boss earlier in the afternoon, he’d asked you to cover a shift for one of your sick colleagues. Fuck no. But when it’s your boss who asks you, it’s not like you really have choice if you want to keep your job. After all, you were extremely lucky to even have a job in the first place so you’d accepted your boss’ request.

The bank, where you were employed as a cleaner, usually closed at 8PM and you would usually, alongside your colleagues, show up around 3-4AM. So being obliged to begin at midnight, while having a morning class at 8AM the next fucking day, really fucking sucked. But you desperately needed the money.

When you’d put on the blue polo shirt, you tossed your winter jacket and shirt inside the locker before shutting the door of the cupboard close. Before leaving the room, you put your phone and wallet in the back pockets of your jeans since you didn’t want to risk them being stolen.  

Walking out of the changing room, you went into the cleaning room to get one of the cleaning carts. When you’d filled the buckets with warm water and made sure you’d filled the large pail up with cloths and the detergents you needed, you made your way towards the elevator with the cart.

Approximately one hour into your shift, you began to hear quiet noises, which was definitely not supposed to happen as your colleagues wouldn’t arrive until at least two hours had passed.

Letting out a shaky breath, you dropped the cloth in your hand and anxiously swirled around; you swore you heard voices this time, there was no doubting it. You were currently washing the floor on the third level and you’d been hearing the noises since you’d been cleaning the toilets near the entrance on the first level. Something was seriously not right.

Hastily, your eyes flickered from one end of the corridor to the other while your heart was beginning to move upwards to your throat. The result was the same; there was nobody to be seen.

Fucking hell, this was the exact reason why you didn’t want to work alone, damn it!  

For a short moment you stood there in the corridor, paralyzed with fear while deciding what to do. The low voices continued talking somewhere to the left of the corridor but you couldn’t estimate how far the owner of the voices were.

Lots of different possible scenarios ran through your mind, everything from some of your colleagues getting here early to assassin’s looking for you to end you. The last one was ridiculous and you knew it, but you felt extremely vulnerable and exposed, being all alone in the middle of the night. Shutting your eyes tightly and biting your lower lip while breathing deeply, you eventually succeeded in calming down and thinking rationally; it was obviously some of the others who were probably covering shifts just like you were.


Taking off the rubber gloves and dumping them somewhere on the cart, you carefully began walking towards the voices.

At some point, your steps began to feel too loud as it echoed in the long empty corridors but there wasn’t really much you could possibly do. Once you reached the end of the hallway, you turned left once again, slowly moving closer towards the muffled voices. The closer you got, the bigger the lump in your throat grew and the adrenaline was pumping fiercely through your veins.

“H-Hel-“ your voice cracked and you cleared your throat quietly. “Hello?”

No reply.

You passed yet another corner before freezing.     

Your breath hitched in your throat and you brought a shaking hand to cover your mouth while staring at the scenery in front of you. You swore you didn’t mean to gasp vocally, you really did, but you did not expect to see the six men; they all wore tight black clothing, black jeans, boots, and jackets. Moreover, they all wore masks that covered everything from their nose to their mouths and jawlines, and with their hair hidden underneath beanies, caps, hats, it was impossible for you to see anything but their eyes. What really caught your attention though was the firearms they held in their glove-covered hands and taking in the circumstances, they were undoubtedly loaded.

Upon hearing your gasp, they all swirled around, now facing your small frame at the end of the corridor. Not even a second later, six guns were pointed straight at you so quickly that you almost didn’t register it.

Your breath got caught in your throat and you instinctively took a few steps backwards until your back bumped into the wall behind you.

“Hands up!” one of the men yell from behind his mask, the one with the platinum blonde hair and black cap, and as if on cue, your hands shot up over your head, feeling unnaturally heavy and shaking violently. The only sound audible were your quick pulse and you felt dizzy and nauseous all of sudden.

“Wait…” another of the men mumbled, the brunette with a grey beanie, and slowly lowered the gun in his hands. “Is that… (Y/N)?”

If your eyes were wide before, they were surely popping out of your head now as you took in the fact that one of the burglars, one of the criminals with a fucking gun in his hands, seemed to know who you were.

Yeah, fuck no.

You didn’t reply the man, possibly because fear had somehow cut off your vocal cord and your brain.

You didn’t recognise him, seeing as he was fully covered up, obviously because he didn’t want to be recognised in such situations like this one, it was kind of the fucking point, and you were too scared to utter a single word.

The other five men casted a sidelong glance at the man with the beanie, not quite sure what to do just like you.

The seconds were too fucking long and the ignorance of what was going to happen caused you to pant heavily, your heart almost bursting out of your chest.

“You know her?” the man with the blonde hair asked your acquaintance, still not lowering his gun yet, which the other four seemed to follow.

“I,” the man began, still not moving his intense gaze from your frame. “I went to school with her.”  

That certainly caught your attention, despite your mind still being clouded with all of that adrenaline pumping through your veins. Still, although you tried, really tried recognising the brunette standing mere ten meters in front of you, it still didn’t happen.

That’s until-

“Jaehyun?” you whispered disbelievingly with incredulity and shock written across your face. There’s no way this could be Jaehyun, no way this could possibly be the Jaehyun you shared a class with in your Junior year of High School while you were still in Korea when you were younger. That’d literally be impossible. But it was, it was the same brown curly locks that were sticking out from the hem of the beanie, the same warm coffee brown eyes, holy fucking shit-

A distant yet extremely loud crash suddenly boomed through the hall, successfully snatching every one of the men’s attentions.

“Fuck,” Blondie breathed before lowering his gun and clicking on some sort of earphone that was placed in his ear. “They’re here earlier than we expected; I think they used the staff entrance, but please check up on that, Taeil. How do we get out of here if the staff entrance is blocked with their men?”

While speaking he disappeared into the vault room on the right, which you hadn’t even noticed were wide open until now. Thankfully, the other four lowered their weapons too and ran with Blondie, whom you assumed were some kind of leader, to get some cash probably.

Everyone except for Jaehyun; he was standing right in the middle of the hallway, just fucking staring at you like he couldn’t believe you were actually real and here in person.

Running were impossible; with six people aiming their guns at you, you got the memo of not trying to run or some stupid shit like that. It’d be suicidal.

“Decide what you’re gonna do with her, Jae,” Blondie chimed when he returned from the vault room, hastily shoving piles of 50,000 KRW into at least 15 large bags. “But we gotta get out of here right now.”

Still not removing his gaze from you, Jaehyun shot forward and grabbed your upper arm tightly before tugging you along with him. His hold on you was too firm and you couldn’t help but  let out a painful whimper.

“W-Wait, what is going on?” you asked shakily, voice high-pitched with a combination of confusion and fright. Being dragged away by six armed men who you’d just witnessed stealing loads of money didn’t sit well with you at all. “What’s happening?!”

“Make her shut up!” Blondie snapped from where he was running a couple of meters in front of the two of you. “She’s going to get us caught by Woohyun’s people!”

“Listen, I-I’ll explain… (Y/N), I’ll explain everything later, okay? Just please follow me for now, okay? For your own sake.”

Nope. Nu-uh. No fucking way.

“Let-“ you panted heavily while trying to wriggle out of his tight grip on you. “Let go of me, damn it! Fucking let go!” You yelled angrily and despite the anxiety of the situation still lingering within you, anger still managed to flare up in your chest now that you knew Jaehyun wouldn’t harm you.


It’s not like you really talked to him that much in class but still, he wouldn’t harm you in any way, right?

But then again, you hadn’t expected him to take part of a robbery either, so…

“Jaehyun!” Blondie boomed and Jaehyun didn’t wait a second before snatching an arm around your waist and forcefully yanking you along, ignoring your angry screaming and kicking while he apologised over and over and fucking over as if that was supposed to make everything alright.

You were sitting stiffly in your seat in the van, your right shoulder and side pressed against back doors of the van while staring at Jaehyun who was sitting in front of you. While your eyes were filled with terror and anxiety, his was filled with what seemed like regret and guilt and perhaps something more you couldn’t quite place.

All seven of you were seated on benches on each side in the van and except for Blondie and another rather tall man speaking now and then in Korean that were too advanced for your foreign ears, the van was completely silent and only the rumbling of engine was audible.

Jaehyun had taken off his mask at some point and even though he continued staring at you with an intense gaze, he didn’t try bringing up a conversation. In fact, as you watched him sitting on the bench you realised just how different he looked from when you were in high school together; his face was hard and eyes seemed tough, which gave off an intimidating vibe that didn’t sit well with you at all. It was obvious that he’d grown a lot taller and bigger even though he’d already been pretty tall in high school.

He didn’t look like the Jaehyun you remembered. The Jaehyun you remembered was extremely popular with girls as well with guys and it seemed like everybody liked him. Your small circle of friends didn’t really interact with any of his so it was only in your literature class that the two of you got a chance to talk – not that you talked at all really. Whenever you were in class and got eye contact, he’d always send you a charming smile, displaying his perfect white teeth as if that was supposed to woo you. But you weren’t stupid; you knew how sick people could be and you saw no reason why Jaehyun, the Jaehyun, would ever want to interact with you, so you were so sure he was only playing games with you and wanting to humiliate you in front of everybody.

No thanks.

Plus, let’s say you didn’t reject his few attempts to hold a conversation with you – it didn’t really matter anyway because he was always so busy, constantly having something to do, someone to talk to, so him wanting to talk with you because he was genuinely interested was just pure bullshit.

Was it a façade? This tough guy sitting in front of you, could it really be the oh so popular Jung Jaehyun?

There were so much you both wanted to say, wanted to ask but with you being too scared and him having this image thing going on or something, nothing but silence ended up between the two of you.

That was until you arrived at your destination, wherever that was. When you jumped out of the van, rudely ignoring the outreached hand Jaehyun offered as a help, you felt the nausea return to your stomach and the sudden urge to cry was almost unbearable.

But only almost.

There was an enormous building in front of you, which almost looked like a castle with its gigantic pillars on the front of the house – it honestly looked like a Victorian palace with its large windows, a few with dim lights in them. The building had at least three floors but it was still night, which made it difficult for you to see properly. The place was surrounded by trees and not a single city-like sound could be heard, which indicated that you had to be pretty far from Seoul.

The urge to scream and cry out in panic increased even further.

“Let’s get the money inside,” Blondie instructed and each of the boys took a handful of the filled bags before shutting the van closed and heading inside. Even the door was extravagant; the double doors were enormous and decorated with gold in consistent patterns, which took your mind back to the stolen money in the bags.

You didn’t know what to do, whether or not to follow them but considering they brought you along in the first place, you figured you should probably follow them inside. The doors opened and you were met with a huge hall that were extremely high-ceilinged and an enormous chandelier made from gold hanging right in the middle of the hall. An enormous staircase with a red carpet on top of it were situated in the middle of the room as well, leading to the second floor. Looking left and then right, you noticed multiple doors and corridors, all leading in different directions you assumed, and the feeling of power the entire building exuded with its luxury almost overwhelmed you. It was quite terrifying.

When Blondie and his partner in crime, fuck the irony, were just starting to climb the stairs slowly, a group of unmasked guys came running into the hallway, ready to help with the haul. There were at least ten people, all of them being extremely loud and all smiles when they saw the operation went just as planned, despite “Woohyun” apparently showing up too.

They’d succeeded.

The men hugged each other, patted each other on the backs, while chit-chatting and grinning loudly.

They all looked so happy, like they were the best of friends or perhaps even family.

As you let your gaze wander over the men, one of the men especially caught your attention and the lump in your throat re-emerged. His hair was dark, almost black, just like you remembered it. He was certainly dressed cosily in his red and white knitted sweater with different patterns on it and with the grey sweatpants. However, it was when you noticed his face that you began feeling like you’d just been shot right in your heart. The man was all smiles, revealing his slightly crooked canine teeth, which only seemed to make his smiles even more adorable.

An unwilling whimper left your mouth and suddenly you felt foreign in your own body; you couldn’t understand the intense feelings that shot through your entire body, anger, sadness, confusion, and it terrified you to see him of all people being associated with fucking gangs.


The deer-eyed boy snapped his head towards you, the previous smile completely gone as his eyes were wide and mouth hanging open. Shock was written across his face and he almost look scared, despite being surrounded by fucking gangsters or whatever they were.


How on earth could Sicheng be a part of all of this?! Sicheng, who was a part of your small circle of friends in school, whom you’d probably consider being your best friend when you were in Korea, how could he suddenly be hanging out with people like Jaehyun?!

“(Y/N)?” his voice was extremely quiet and he looked like a dog who’d just been whipped.

Nobody interrupted the two of you although Jaehyun did stare quite a bit (a lot).

“What the fuck are you doing back in Korea!?” you snarled angrily, a sudden feeling of betrayal shooting up inside of you. “Weren’t you supposed to go back to China after the school year?”

Your voice was filled with pure venom and although you’d never speak to Sicheng like that, the anger, confusion, and feeling of disloyalty inside you were too much to handle and you couldn’t help but lash out.

Both you and Sicheng had been exchange students in High School for a year and therefore the two of you had shared a lot of your classes because you needed the lessons to be taught in English. The school system in your own country however, was a bit different, so you had to leave Korea a few weeks prior to the others – but the plan had always been that Sicheng would be going back to his home country, too.

What had happened those two weeks after you left?

“I asked him to join,” Jaehyun stepped in. “And that’s all you need to know at this point. But speaking of leaving Korea, what are you doing back here in Seoul? It’s been years.”

Everyone, except for Sicheng, Jaehyun, and you, began to carry the packed bags onto the second floor but not without giving the three of you a sidelong glance. Seeing how everyone just left the three of you alone, you guessed that either Jaehyun or Sicheng had quite the position in this gang-thing.

“What!?” you whispered disbelievingly, turning around to face the taller man and ignoring his question completely. “You dragged him into this shit!?”

Jaehyun didn’t reply, he simply just stared down at your face with his arms crossed and face hard.

Sicheng didn’t interrupt the two of you.

Very wise.

“Answer me, damn it!” you yelled frustratingly, hitting his chest with your fists in pure rage. “Did you involve Sicheng in this!?”

Clearly not happy with your attitude, he shoved your arms away from him by grabbing your wrists too tightly and sneered at you. “I didn’t force him into doing anything. I asked and he accepted. Simple as that. So are you going to blame him too now, huh? Or is it still only me, hmm?”

You tore your wrists out of his grip and sent him a look that could kill but other than that, didn’t comment on his questions, which seemed to amuse him. The stone-cold face turned into a mocking grin and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

You felt like he was toying with you, as if he was the predator and you the prey.  

“Thought so. It has always just been me, right?” he whispered, stooping closer so your faces were only inches apart. “You never wanted to talk to me, isn’t that correct? Only me, even though I’d never done anything that made me look bad or mean. What a fucking saint you were. Are you sure you can’t teach me your sinless way of living, (Y/N)?”

He was playing with you.

“Get away from me,” you hissed through your clenched teeth and took a few steps backwards to separate your bodies while ignoring the smug smile on his lips as he stood up straight again.

“As you wish. But now tell me what you’re doing back in Korea,” he snapped right back at you and the always charming and smiling Jaehyun was completely gone and it was quite frightening to say the least. You’d never seen him upset before. Never. And then it hit you that even though you went to school with Jaehyun, and Sicheng was right next to the two of you, they were mobsters after all and you shouldn’t let yourself feel like you were safe. Because you weren’t. You hadn’t seen them in five years and a lot of things could change in five years, hell, a lot of things had changed in the last five years. And if they would never harm you in any way, why not just leave you in the bank?   

You kept silent, the seriousness of the situation hitting you hard and you found it hard to swallow.

“Tell me why you’re here,” Jaehyun repeated, his voice gentler this time as if he’d realised your fright.

“I’m spending a semester here but I don’t see how that’s anything to you?” you replied quietly, lowering your eyes. “And I really need to go back now, thank you. I have a job to finish and I have a morning class so please, if you’d be so kind.”

“I can’t let you do that now,” Jaehyun sighed, the anger from before slowly disappearing and it sounded like he almost felt ashamed. Taking off his beanie, Jaehyun frustratingly ran his fingers through those brown locks of his while sighing deeply. “You recognised me and you’ve seen too much. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t let you do it. The risk of you going to the police is too high.”

“I won’t say anything if you just let me-“

“I’m sorry, I really am, but I can’t. It’s not me who made the rules. It’s too risky and we’d have to kill you,” his voice quieted down at the last part, clearly not happy with the idea of sending a bullet between your eyes, thankfully.

From the corner of your eyes you saw Sicheng flinch but you choose to ignore it; no way in hell he’d ever get your forgiveness. Sicheng was smarter than this or so you’d thought. You didn’t know whether or not to trust Jaehyun’s words but the way Sicheng didn’t interrupt clearly indicated that Jaehyun spoke nothing but the truth, as much as you wished he didn’t.

You couldn’t go home.

The urge to cry flared up inside you once again while Jaehyun spoke and you were hit with a feeling of helplessness. What were you supposed to do then? If you couldn’t go home or go to work or class… then what?

“What do you want me to do?” you whispered, hating the way your voice cracked and that you almost couldn’t keep your tears from spilling. “I-I have a job, I have r-rent to pay. A-And what about u-uni? I don’t-“

It was when Jaehyun shot forwards, upon seeing your red eyes, and pulled you into a comforting hug that you broke down completely and let the tears stream down your face. Truthfully, you wished the person hugging you were Sicheng but at the same time, you didn’t want to face the man right now. Not that Jaehyun was any better but you took the comfort offered to you despite the man behind the comfort being the reason to your sorrow.

It was really fucked up.

Jaehyun let his palm run down your hair soothingly while whispering quiet, comforting words. His other arm was placed around your waist, gently pulling you closer to his body and you let your head rest on his chest, not caring about the way your tears drenched his T-Shirt.

Jaehyun must have told Sicheng to leave them alone because when your cries had finally died down a bit and you had the courage to look up, he was nowhere to be seen. It was just Jaehyun and you in the enormous hallway.

You didn’t really want to pull away from Jaehyun and the taller man made no indication of wanting to so either. Not that you would know, but to finally have you in his arms, despite the unfortunate circumstances, was something he’d been dreaming of since your very first day in Korea almost six years ago; which was partly why he’d asked Sicheng to join.

Jaehyun’s involvement in criminal affairs had already started when he was very young and when he entered High School, and later on met you, he was well-established in the underworld. Not that he had a big position or anything being that young, but having the background he had and the family relations he had, it was almost impossible for him not to be involved.

Fuck, he’d wanted to speak with you so bad. And it shouldn’t have been a problem at all, Jaehyun knew he was extremely popular, seeing he was able to talk to really anyone and make almost everyone like him. Whether or not it was manipulation on his part or the fact that he was just very likable, it didn’t really matter in the end. What mattered was that it was extremely useful.  It was one of the reasons why his father held so high expectations for him and let him start so young. He would go places; his father had always told him that. And the worst part? He wanted to.

But he was still very young when he’d met you and therefore ignorant and extremely selfish. To him, it was love at first sight; you were everything he wanted and more. You weren’t flashy or snobbish or anything like that. To him, it seemed like you didn’t care about what anyone thought about you and instead of having a lot of friends, you stuck with a few very close friends, Sicheng being one of them. It was just so admirable to him, and in some way he envied you. And although he wanted to talk with you, oh god how much he wanted to just sit next to you and just have a conversation about nothing and everything, he always had something to do and he honestly felt frightened.

Frightened of rejection. Not that he’d ever show, he’d perfected his façade by that time.

He had tried bringing up a few conversations with you here and there but you’d seemed awfully reserved, looking like you were too afraid of speaking with him.

That look in your eye had always stuck him like a knife in the chest, each and every time.

But he was extremely selfish; despite you not showing any interest and how dangerous it would be bringing you into all of this, he didn’t care one bit. Call him foolhardy but he didn’t even think about it for one second. Everything would end up just fine, right? All that mattered was you, you, and you, fuck the consequences.

The year had passed by too quickly with no sign of improvement between the two of you and Jaehyun had begun feeling desperate. He knew you’d have to go back to your own country when the school year was over and the chances of ever seeing you again if the two of you weren’t at least friends were close to zero. And if he couldn’t get through your wall by going straight to you, he’d simply have to turn to your small group of friends. So that’s what he did.

Only a week before the end of the school year, after you hadn’t shown up to your classes for a week, Jaehyun had walked up to Sicheng in the break after their Literature Class and asked about your whereabouts. If the two of you were friends, he’d surely know why you weren’t going to school.

The boy had been understandably surprised that Jaehyun, the Jaehyun, had actually talked to him but when he’d recovered from the quick shock, he’d explained that you had to leave a few weeks earlier and that you were probably back in your home country already.

Jaehyun had felt like he’d just received a punch in the gut.

He was desperate to get in contact with you somehow and the only potential door to that would be through Sicheng, so he’d acted right away without thinking further about the potential consequences.

“Hey Sicheng. I was wondering if you’d like a job. You’ll make a lot of money, trust me. Big money.”

Looking back at it now, Jaehyun knew it’d been a really shitty move, dragging ignorant, naïve Sicheng into the business but back in High School, he felt no sense of guilt whatsoever. He just wanted a ticket to you somehow.

It just fucking sucked that you had to change your phone number when you got back home, and you weren’t on the same socials as Sicheng was.

Thankfully, Jaehyun and Sicheng had grown close over the years, despite Jaehyun not achieving his goal of getting into contact with you. Even though Sicheng was very content with being a part of the gang, Jaehyun knew he’d been really fucking selfish.

Oh well, he guessed that he still was selfish to this very day, seeing how the want and affection for you were still burning as strongly as five years ago.

He still wanted to keep you, to call you his, just as much as he wanted five years ago.

It was you sniffling vocally that snapped Jaehyun out of his thoughts. “What should I do? Where am I staying if I-I can’t go hom-home? A-Are you going to k-kill m-“

Before you could start on yet another round of intense crying, Jaehyun stepped in by kissing your forehead and gently brushing his thumb against your cheek.

“Shh, please don’t worry,” he whispered while gently shushing you. “Please don’t cry, (Y/N). You’ll stay here for the time being, okay? Nothing will happen to you, I promise.”

Upon hearing his words, you couldn’t help but to burst out crying yet again – after all, you were still pretty shocked and extremely emotional, so it didn’t take much to make you bawl your eyes out.

“I-I don’t want to stay here!” you wailed, tightening your grip around his waist. “I want – I want to go home, p-please! I’m gonna fail my subjects, you’re going to m-make me fa-il.”

“Hey hey, relax! Johnny hyung and Hansol hyung are already on their way to your apartment to grab some of your stuff before the police will get there. They’ll bring your books too so you can study.”

“How – how do you know wh-where I live?” you hiccupped.

“When I brought you along, I’d already texted Mark, asking him to check stuff like that. It’s standard procedure.”


They were doing stuff like this regularly.

With all rationality completely gone, you shut your eyes closed and continued crying and seeking comfort in the man in front of you.

“Come on,” Jaehyun whispered gently and kissed your scalp. “Let’s get you settled and warmed up.”

You accepted the support he offered in the form of his shoulder as you leaned against his side as he led you farther into the building.

You know, Mother, that I have always wanted to be become a saint. Unfortunately when I have compared myself with the saints, I have always found that there is the same difference between the saints and me as there is between a mountain whose summit is lost in the clouds and a humble grain of sand trodden underfoot by passersby. Instead of being discouraged, I told myself: God would not make me wish for something impossible and so, in spite of my littleness, I can aim at being a saint. It is impossible for me to grow bigger, so I put up with myself as I am, with all my countless faults. But I will look for some means of going to heaven by a little way which is very short and very straight, a little way that is quite new[…] It is your arms, Jesus, which are the lift to carry me to heaven, And so there is no need for me to grow up. In fact, just the opposite: I must stay little and become less and less.
—  St. Thérèse of Lisieux, The Story of a Soul. (New York: Double Day, 2001), 113.
Do your best to convince them. But act on your own, if justice requires it. If met with force, then fall back on acceptance and peaceability. Use the setback to practice other virtues. Remember that our efforts are subject to circumstances; you weren’t aiming to do the impossible. —Aiming to do what, then? To try. And you succeeded. What you set out to do is accomplished.
—  Marcus Aurelius, Meditations: A New Translation (6:50)

sissycumbitch  asked:

Bonjour, je voulais simplement te dire que je comprends ta douleure... Je suis sortie pas mal de temps avec un mec qui ne me donnait aucune importance... Pas moyen d'avoir de sexe avec lui... Même pas une pipe ou une branlette... Même en faisant tout ce qu'il aime, c'était impossible Tu sais, moi, je te trouve vraiment très belle, et je suis certaine que ton homme va finir par se réinteresser à toi... Bonne chance !

En faite j'ai compris quelque chose. En faire trop pour quelqu'un ça ne sert strictement à rien si en retour il n'y a rien. Je ne comprend pas les hommes en faite, plus on vous en fais baver, plus vous êtes au petit soin. En bref il faut se comporter comme des grosses salopes, pour vous avoir à nos pieds?
Je me trompe messieurs? Vous en pensez quoi ?

More On Khernips

I became quite surprised that people are debating about khernips and how often we should use them, and the historical part of khernips, so I want to talk about it.

Historically, khernips were found in a bowl outside the sanctuary. One would dip their hands in before entering (or the khernips were poured from a jug) to be rid of everyday miasma. Khernips were also used to purify the offerings, this was usually done by a priest.

The ‘problem’ that has arose is that many recon sources tell people that khernips are necessary, and I *personally* agree. This was met with “Well, historically that wasn’t done because the average citizen didn’t have a torch always.” And that’s very true, however:

1. This is not ancient Greece. Hellenic polytheism today has adapted different customs and forms of modern worship. We’re not aiming to be exactly like ancient Greece, because that would be impossible.

2. We obviously do not have sanctuaries or temples like the ancient Greeks did. Many Hellenic polytheists consider their worship spot to be a ‘temple’ of sorts, thus it would be appropriate to use khernips. Our shrines and altars are symbolic for temples and sanctuaries, and double as being a form of household worship.

This religion is very flexible, especially when adding modern methods. Some practicers may use hand sanitizer as a form of khernips, or take a bath in khernips. I only recommend and advise the use of khernips because it never hurts to use lustral water to cleanse ourselves of everyday miasma. 


“J’aime et remercie tous les doux”

Impossible pour moi de ne pas faire le rapprochement entre Kurt Jackson et Isabelle Sauvageot que j’aime tant elle aussi, pour ce qu’elle peint et surtout ce qu’elle pense :

“L’art contemporain”, j’y vois une sorte de secte, régie par la loi du plus fort, du plus féroce, du plus cynique, du plus mort, et du plus dégoûtant, un groupe de happy few où on ne pourrait entrer qu’en ayant signé allégeance au morbide, représentant des cadavres, des fantômes, des crânes, des gens à têtes d’animaux descendants d’Isis et Osiris, des visions dantesques d’un au-delà crotté, et si jamais on se risque à la représentation enfantine, c’est pour bien sûr, la montrer objet, sacrifiée à l’obscène ou livrée à l’absurde. 
Tout ça avec le très louable dessein de nous montrer l’horreur du réel, un soi-disant monde tel qu’il est, violent, féroce, où la lucidité nous mènerait automatiquement à la décomposition par le désespoir.
J’aime et remercie tous les doux, les créatifs courageux ou amoureux qui se risquent à montrer un autre monde que celui-là ou encore ceux qui montrent les choses viles mais avec en sous texte un réel souci d’amour.


J'aime les amours impossibles.
J'aime qu'il suffise de croire
J'aime les rêves en plein jours
J'aime les mots qui remplacent les regards
Et ceux qui remplacent les caresses.
J'aime la distance qui complique tout
J'aime l'absence et le manque
J'aime le temps qui s'écoule avant une rencontre
J'aime savoir que c'est perdu d'avance
C'est presque rassurant quand on y pense
J'aime le mystère d'une attirance
J'aime ne pas tout connaître de l'autre
J'aime qu'il me fasse croire que..
J'aime espérer, rêver et fantasmer
La vie est souvent triste dans sa réalité.

Sabine B. Juin 2017

Of course, my lovely anon! Thank you so much for the request and I hope you’ll enjoy!

Kirishima would be better at paintball. He’s much less sensitive to pain and despite Katsuki being the better aim, Kirishima is much more likely to take stupid risks and get shot a few times to completely destroy Katsuki.

Meanwhile, Bakugou is the better at dodge-ball, being more agile and having a spectacular aim. His reflexes are insane and it’s near impossible to hit him with the dodge-ball. Add to that his insane competitive streak and he’s a very formidable dodge-ball opponent!