and someone once told me that i needed to post more pictures of myself

✰ * º ❛ even more popular text posts ask meme. ❜

‘  my kink is getting some fuckin sleep.  ’
‘  omg here goes your lil crybaby ass.  ’
‘  the beatles wouldn’t even fucking exist if big time rush hadn’t paved the path for them so shut the fuck up.  ’
‘  don’t start buddy. don’t you dare.  ’
‘  gay rights? true, as a gay, i am always right.  ’
‘  not to vent, but: fuck.  ’
‘  the worst pain is to make small talk with someone you once told everything to.  ’
‘  i think i accidentally break my own heart a lot.  ’
‘  sometimes ‘brb’ stands for ‘be ready bitch’ so you have to be careful.  ’
‘  i want to kiss you in a way that makes you not want to kiss anyone else ever again.  ’
‘  shout out to the people who are still friends with me even though i’m a fucking idiot.  ’
‘  it’s safe to assume that at any given moment i want to go back to bed.  ’
‘  i’m a big fan of anything that will help me chill the fuck out.  ’
‘  i don’t go through people’s pictures on their phone cause i wasn’t raised in the jungle.  ’
‘  i think we, as a people, just need to have a glass of water.  ’
‘  i don’t have enough black clothes.  ’
‘  sweetie, i could sleep for ten years and i’d still be tired.  ’
‘  i would sleep so much better with your arms wrapped around me.  ’
‘  me??? tired??? sleepy??? yes, constantly.  ’
‘  i’m pb&j – petty, bitter, and jealous.  ’
‘  the fact that sloths aren’t extinct somehow proves that if you go at your own pace and mind your own fucking business you too can succeed.  ’
‘  i wish i could be the person i want to be, but i’m too tired.  ’
‘  i always look sleep deprived. is that hot?  ’
‘  just because there’s always room for improvement doesn’t mean you’ll never be good enough.  ’
‘  my heart is a soft and sensitive mess.  ’
‘  all i want is a big garden and no responsibilities.  ’
‘  honestly someone not liking beyonce is a deal breaker and not for any political reasons, but just like you’re probably, definitely really boring.  ’
‘  hey guys, i’m a huge fan of genuine love and affection.  ’
‘  now i’m falling asleep and she’s calling a crab and he’s having a smoke and she’s kissing the crab.  ’
‘  i’ve been ever since i heard ‘lonely’ by akon at 9 years-old.  ’
‘  my new years resolution is to stop.  ’
‘  i’m irritated cause i’m not lovable in a romantic soulmate way.  ’
‘  i hate knowing that people that ruined parts of me still live and function like nothing ever happened.  ’
‘  i know i’m cute, but you can remind me.  ’
‘  hey, just wondering, but are you fucking kidding me????  ’
‘  i can’t wait to be in love with someone who is also deepfuck in love with me and we love each other forever n’ ever.  ’
‘  me? clingy? yes. please don’t leave me.  ’
‘  girlfriend application compatibility question: do you keep your depression pile on the bed or on the floor?  ’
‘  anything heart shaped is automatically 200% better. this is a fact.  ’
‘  today’s agenda: screaming into the abyss.  ’
‘  going from ‘today is a good day’ to ‘i hate my life’ takes me approximately 2.6 seconds.  ’
‘  everyone needs to wash their face and go to bed.  ’
‘  i’m worth so much more than the ways i’ve been treated.  ’
‘  hey, can i claim you guys as dependents on my taxes?  ’
‘  i really just ignore phone calls. like leave a message. i don’t check those either but like  ’
‘  i honestly just want to pack my bags and go travel the world and see and explore everything possible.  ’
‘  remember being little and thinking dandelions were fun or a pretty color or something and every adult in an 80 mile radius wouldn’t let you say that without screaming IT’S A WEED.  ’
‘  why did we just accept catdog?  ’
‘  my ‘stay in bed all day’ game’s too strong.  ’
‘  you deserve to be loved without having to hide the parts of yourself that you think are unlovable.  ’
‘  i always forget that i literally don’t owe anyone anything!  ’
‘  i wonder what it feels like to know what the fuck is going on.  ’
‘  honestly… us girls? us women? we always out here, knowin.  ’
‘  would an alien think i’m pretty?  ’
‘  i love boys, but only as a concept.  ’
‘  why do parents get mad when you sleep in all day? like i’m staying out of trouble and i’m not spending your money like what’s the issue here????  ’
‘  i identify as an inconvenience to the world.  ’
‘  i seriously regret telling anyone, anything, ever lmao  ’
‘  dating me is like dating a five year-old. i need all of your attention and i’m cranky if i haven’t had a nap.  ’
‘  i’m literally tired of myself.  ’
‘  don’t introduce me to ur parents unless you plan on marrying me because they’re going to love me and ask about me for the rest of your life lol  ’
‘  what the hell is a straight person? only straight thing i know about is the edge of my beloved sword.  ’
‘  i highly recommend never having feelings.  ’
‘  self care is going into a cornfield at night to get abducted by aliens.  ’
‘  staying up late with another human is such a weird thing like you get this special bond and a what-is-this feeling  ’
‘  do u ever feel like ur not even friends with ur friends?  ’
‘  um no offense but whom’st’ve going to loveth me?  ’
‘  date a girl who fucks everything up.  ’
‘  not all who mcfreakin wander are mcfreakin lost.  ’
‘  i may legally be an adult but don’t be fooled. i have no idea what i’m doing.  ’
‘  a fun and interesting fact about me is that i’m a fucking idiot.  ’
‘  you can start again anytime!  ’
‘  all you can do is learn your lesson. there’s no point in wishing you had did differently. the past is the past.  ’
‘  i can’t believe an angel like me has to suffer so much.  ’
‘  you’re all so obsessed with love and being loved. what about just going to sleep?  ’
‘  i’m smart, but i do dumb shit anyway.  ’
‘  tbh i never deal with my emotions. i just let them ravage my body and then go to bed and then i wake up and do it all over again.  ’
‘  first of all: i don’t know shit, so jot that down.  ’
‘  i’ll just ¯\ _(ツ)_/¯ my way through life.  ’
‘  i’m tired of things costing money.  ’
‘  don’t you hate it when you’re dead inside and run out of apps to refresh?  ’
‘  who cares? do better, move on.  ’
‘  i don’t need a significant other. just a significant income.  ’
‘  appreciation for everyone who’s ever talked to me bc i’m annoying and dumb.  ’
‘  thnks fr th mntl llnss.  ’
‘  what  hasn’t killed me has just made me overly sensitive and defensive.  ’
‘  i don’t know shit ya’ll!!!!! i’m just out here.  ’
‘  binge-watching is great until you run out of the show and have to start watching it weekly like some sort of medieval peasant.  ’
‘  i’m in the wrong realm and i think everyone can tell.  ’
‘  this might come as a shock but I’m Not Feelin too good my dudes.  ’
‘  i’m alive, but only ironically.  ’
‘  there she goes again being over dramatic and by she, i mean me.  ’
‘  do you ever feel like have tried Too Hard to a friend and now you have become That Obnoxious Weirdo?  ’
‘  lgbt: lasagna! garfield’s beloved treat.  ’
‘  my favorite phrase in the english language is ‘i shit you not.’  ’
‘  i’m a real boring bitch! a snoozer!  ’
‘  i honestly look so good lounging in an oversized t-shirt and no pants. when will someone experience the blessing of domestic living w/ me?  ’
‘  you don’t understand how hard it is to take a selfie when you’re ugly.  ’
‘  you son of a mumford!  ’
‘  hi, i’m here to ruin everything.  ’
‘  you can tell a lot about a person by looking at their hands. for example, if it’s a skeleton hand then they’re dead.  ’
‘  the year is 2020 and i am found guilty of treason against the united states for vague blogging that i hate someone and donald trump thought it was about him.  ’
‘  everybody calm down, we’re going to be fine! :))) we’ve weathered worse than this! :) :) :) :) really all this panic just seems like a huge overreaction imho   ’
‘  no beta readers. we publish our crap writing like men.  ’
‘  i need $$$$$ not feelings.  ’
‘  ‘idk imma see’ = i ain’t coming, never was coming, never considered it, never gave it a single thought, only remembered cause you asked again.  ’
‘  oops, i don’t care lol  ’
‘  why girls always crop the halo out of their selfies? stop being so modest. we know the truth.  ’
‘  maurice, you’re not gonna fucking believe this,  ’
‘  i always get told i look like a bitch bc i’m always glaring while i walk, but i’m not glaring, i’m squinting. i have sensitive eyes. they’re watering.  ’
‘  concept: it’s 3 am. candle lit room. a record is spinning. you’re kissing me. we have no worries in the world. we’re warm and content.  ’
‘  i need to go into the forest and scream for an hour and a half.  ’
‘  pls kill all men who yell at girls from cars.  ’
‘  life really isn’t what i expected it to be. less quicksand. almost no quicksand to be honest. lots of metaphorical quicksand tho.  ’
‘  i have a question for u: like are u done… like is it over?  ’
‘  we all have that one person who ruins your day by being alive.  ’
‘  we all have that one person who ruins your day by being alive. for me, it’s myself.  ’
‘  whenever i see police i always try not to act suspicious and fail internally even though i never did anything wrong.  ’
‘  new years resolution: less bitter, more glitter.  ’

Why Vmin are called the “Soulmate Couple”

Long post

Before I get into this, I’d like to say, that this will provide examples as to how amazingly close vmin are to being considered real life soulmates. It’ll also help anyone who wants to know about vmin’s relationship and how close the two actually are. But overall, it’ll definitely explain why some of the fandom refers to them as already soulmates. Whether it’s viewed platonically or romantically:)

Okay here we go. Pray for me to be able to get all of this in one post.

Keep reading

tbpdfw

Those Childhood behaviors & experiences that I now get knowing I have bpd like:

Oh yeah identity issues:

  • Not understanding why when actors’ spoke about a character they were playing they treated it like a separate person because for me playing pretend meant becoming that character, another version of myself
  • Transfixing on my friend’s TigerBeat magazines even though I didn’t care about celebrities and getting a subscription myself just for the quizzes 
  • Getting really attached to specific words or phrases that you thought fit you or that other ppl used to describe you (for me it was “unique”, “empath”, not “normal”)
  • Using others’ descriptions of you as the way to describe yourself and your role in your own life (has big eyes, has nice smile, intelligent, artist)
  • Going to the bathroom in school to escape and end up just staring at myself in the mirror and asking who am I? I don’t recognize myself
  • Taking in bad descriptions of yourself and mean comments as truth as well (annoying, loud, talkative, sensitive, judgmental; you interrupt too much, you complain too much, you always think you’re right)
  • Getting really attached to IPod Touch backgrounds and saving ones that I thought represented me
  • Saving screencaps of the results of random silly quizzes as if collecting “facts” about myself
  • Taking on personality traits from a TV show character I liked and wanted to be like, wanting to dress like them, and wanting ppl to call me by the character’s name as a nickname
  • Quoting “Forgive and forget, that’s my motto” from a TV show character because it sounded cool and Right even though it wasn’t at all true about myself
  • Trying to copy some self-harming techniques I had heard to make my depression feel more valid
  • Throwing out a chocolate with caramel inside even though I liked it because I had previously always said I hated caramel and couldn’t contradict that
  • Acting like moments between you and another person or you in general were part of a movie and you had an imagined script of what dramatic thing you should say

Wanting attention & validation:

  • Doing and saying whatever to make adults you liked laugh or give you positive attention 
  • Finished painting a picture I was proud of (around age 3-5), my friend/neighbor who I’m painting with just finished finger painting something as well. My mom praises her and calls her choice to finger paint creative. I immediately smear my entire picture with my fingers
  • Carrying around a book of writings that I covered the outside with notes about it being “top secret” and “do NOT read” in the hopes of attracting interest so that someone would try to read it
  • Telling my best friend I *insert suicide ideation here* to hear her reaction in the hope of concern and attention
  • Biting at my mouth and lips in attempts of (unsuccessfully) hurting myself and getting attention after reading the book Speak in which a girl does the same in response to trauma
  • Talking nonstop, loudly and quickly in attempts to be heard; Having problems interrupting people in conversation  as I was used to being ignored and having limited time to be heard
  • Oversharing in class about personal experiences

Black and white thinking

  • Seeing my darker shift in mood as the new “bad” me vs the younger happier idealized version of myself as the old “good” me
  • Drawing images of broken mirrors, broken hearts, and thorny plants to represent this Bad new me vs regular hearts and thriving pretty plants as the old Good me
  • Seeing ppl as either minor acquaintances or Best Friends, no inbetween  
  • Feeling like ppl, even best friends, couldn’t get me and therefore we shouldn’t be friends anymore
  • Getting mad at ppl for having different opinions because they were Wrong

Unstable moods; Depression and thoughts of suicide or self-harm 

  • Feeling broken, wrong and messed up constantly for not being as happy as I once remembered
  • Writing dramatic sad poems about a perceived loss of innocence aka growing up which I concluded was the reason for the change
  • Leaving class just to wander under the guise of going to the bathroom, linger at windows and fantasize about running away somewhere happy
  • Continuously thinking about and wanting to break the mirrors but knowing it would be messy and probably hurt and I’d get in trouble
  • Feeling like I wanted to die before knowing what that meant and feeling like no one could save me
  • Punching my desk and the school porcelain sinks to feel my knuckles sting; scraping my hands with pens by drawing rough repeated lines over the skin to “punish” myself for being “bad”
  • Self-harming before knowing what that meant
  • Prolonging eating to punish yourself with hunger but giving into eating eventually
  • Feeling weak about not being able to commit to doing serious harm to myself
  • Having episodes of loss of interest in all things I found fun; feeling numb
  • Erratic sleeping patterns
  • Wanting to call in sick from school or pretend your sick to stay home because you just feel awful and don’t know why
  • Wanting to die on the way to school, passively feeling okay with the thought you might get hit by a car or bus

Unstable relationships; Imprinting, FPs, (Perceived) Abandonment & Splitting

  • Getting super attached to my first best friend in kindergarten and being convinced we’d be best friends forever 
  • Coming home crying every other day the next year when she got new friends who all didn’t want me around them
  • “Testing out” a new friend group everyday to try and find a place I felt like I belonged  
  • Spending recess after recess walking around alone and watching all the other kids play together reasoning everyone has a friend but me
  • Not playing with other kids who invited me to because they weren’t my Best Friend (cough baby’s first FP cough)
  • Getting super attached to my new neighbor/friend and jumping at any chance to hang out with her even when she was mean to me or didn’t really want to hang out with me
  • When she suddenly started avoiding me and stopped talking to me after years of friendship I went from hurt to completely uncaring as if we were never friends at all
  • At my new school, I once again spent my time trying out new friend groups and dropping them when they didn’t fit me and ended up in the small assortment of “rejects” 
  • Going back and forth between being best friends, feeling better than them, feeling bad that they were putting energy into someone who really didn’t care
  • Feeling like I was pretending and didn’t care about them as much as they cared about me (none of them were my FP) and therefore we shouldn’t be friends at all 
  • Getting super attached to a new girl in school because I didn’t have any close friends and we were both Guyanese and therefore somehow connected; saying embarrassing things to her about how I felt detached from other friends and much closer to her in the span of only a few days
  • She told my other friend that I was like an annoying “dog” following her around and she switched schools within the next few weeks
  • I immediately into the “she never existed” mode of detachment 
  • Writing dramatically “I’m sorry I wasn’t a good friend to you when you were such a good friend to me” in my friend’s yearbook (knowing he wouldn’t see it until years later)
  • Getting super attached to and oversharing with teachers who showed me particular kindness and attention
  • Getting depressed when I noticed they showed kindness and attention individually to other students
  • Feeling not good enough or healthy enough to be in relationships

These are my personal experiences but maybe they are relatable to others with bpd.

((This is super long but I just felt like it needed to be said and shown that ppl with bpd often have signs of early symptoms in childhood that get worse later and that they often don’t understand until later. Hope this gives others with bpd some clarity.))

Feel free to share some of your own!

(EDIT: Remembered some more)

obsessive-enthusiast  asked:

Maybe a prompt for the boyfs: Sleep Deprivation or forgetting to eat? :3c

Hi I’m gonna do sleep deprivation because I have a hc abt Michael being a slight insomniac because self projection lolol. Sorry this probs isn’t what you wanted but if you send another sleep deprivation prompt I’ll make it more cuddly and fluffy than this!!!

Jeremy nearly had a heart attack when he woke up to the sound of his phone buzzing. It was 3am and the screen on his phone lit up with the words,“Player Two 👾🗣” across the screen.

It took Jeremy a few seconds to register everything, but he eventually picked up and hit the green button,“H-hey Michael you good?” Jeremy felt a little worried, the pit of his stomach dropped when he heard the sad tone of Michael’s voice.

“I’m- yeah I’m good. I just couldn’t sleep and-”

“On my way just give me two seconds, I need to get shoes on.”

“N-no! That’s okay I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Michael it is 3 am and I can tell you’re upset. I just got my shoes on, I’m walking out the door right now. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you while I walk over?” Jeremy left his house after grabbing his keys. He locked the door and began to take the one minute walk to Michael’s house.

He was silent for a few seconds, then a small affirmation came through the other end,“Yeah, that’d be nice. Thank you Jer…” Michael smiled to himself.

“Anytime Mikey. Now, have you eaten at all today?”

Jeremy hears Michael shift on the other end,“Er, what constitutes as eating?”

“Mom mode has been activated. Get some stuff out for me to make you a sandwich.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to run now but you can keep talking. What are you thinking about?”

Michael got up from his spot and headed upstairs,“I’m just, frustrated I guess? End of school year, personal stuff, you know.”

Jeremy nodded in response, then mentally slapped himself cause no Jer, he can’t see you do that,“Yeah, I get that… also I’m like. Here. I’ll just walk in.”

Michael hung up and jogged to the front door and opened it for Jeremy. He pulled his best friend into a firm hug. This was longer than their hugs usually were. Michael melted into it. He needed this today. He needed Jeremy, he needed the extra long squeeze he gave.

Jeremy pressed his face against Michael’s neck,“Everything ok? What’s up?”

That’s when Michael started crying. This day was shit, and Jeremy hugging him was just what he needed. He was shaking, that’s when Jeremy gave him one last tight squeeze, then pulled away to get a good look at him.

“I-I’m so-orry Jeremy I just. I-”

“I love you.”

Michael was caught off guard,“I, well I love you too Jer thank for-”

He shook his head,“N-no that’s not what. I- that’s not what I meant.”

Jeremy’s face was turning a familiar shade of pink, Michael didn’t want to get his hopes up but he still felt that sliver of hope resurface.

“Then…?”

Jeremy gave him the ‘please don’t make me say it face’ but took a deep breath and started. “So- ah god. So, me and Christine broke up, and I never told you why, yeah?”

Michael nodded, Jeremy looked down at his hand and grabbed it for reassurance. “Well, I kept picturing myself with someone else when we were together? And, I realized that I had to stop lying to myself, and to her. So I ended it.”

Michael gave him a slight smile. “So, uh, you can probably guess who I was thinking of right?”

“Well, I’d like for you to tell me.”

Jeremy groaned,“You’re impossible,” he looked up at him, his face managed to get even more pink,“I like you Michael. Like, a lot and I want to be able to be there for you in ways that I can’t be as just a friend and I understand if you don’t like me but oh my god…”

“I’m in love with you Michael and I’m pretty sure it’s actually killing me.”

Michael laughed at that a little,“Thank you Jer bear.” He pulled him forward with the hand he was holding, cupped his cheek, and kissed him.

It was soft, slow, and shy. Neither of them kissed anyone, but it wasn’t bad. It was perfect, and it was perfect because it was them and that’s all that mattered. That Michael was finally kissing Jeremy.

“I love you too, Jeremy. But we should probably head inside before we attract bugs inside.”

Jeremy kisses him once more,“Yeah, okay.”

axstxtic  asked:

four word prompt: is this the end

Is this the end?

Harry still remembered how you had nodded when he asked, nearly in tears, but holding them back because you didn’t seem upset.

You didn’t love him the way he loved you. You had said you weren’t even sure if you loved him at all.

And now months had passed and he had moved on. Or, he thought he had until he heard your voice on a voicemail.

“Hey, um, I heard you were in town. I figured we could maybe grab a coffee or something?” You had paused here, “I understand if… if you don’t want to see me, um…” You blew out air between your lips, he could almost see it in his head, something you did when you were anxious, “I miss you.” You said so quickly, he thought he might’ve imagined it as the line cut out. Over and over he played the message, drowning in the sound of your voice, a melody he was sure he’d never hear again.

He put his phone down and rested his head in his hands, unable to stop seeing you behind his eyelids no matter how hard he rubbed them. He was past this, past you. You had left him wondering why he wasn’t enough. No one had ever made him feel unworthy, but with you it was like he didn’t deserve love and he didn’t want to feel that way again.

Keep reading

10 Is the Magic Number: The Top 10 Things I Want to Tell You Before You Enter the Bowl

I entered the bowl and quit. Then I entered and quit again. I’ve entered the bowl for the third time and I’m not leaving until I’ve accomplished my goalsI’ve had some successes. I’ve had a lot of failures. I’ve learned a ton about myself. And since you asked, I’d like to share some of the things I wish I had known and really want you to know before entering the bowl.

10. Laziness is not your friend. I was lazy and lacked perseverance. I believed that the bare minimum of effort would yield high results. I thought there was a man willing to give me everything I wanted while I amused myself by not giving him anything he wanted. I completely ignored the mutually in “mutually beneficial arrangement”

9. Don’t be a selective reader. Part of the reason why I thought my laziness was okay was because I was a selective reader and peruser of the SB tag. I read all of the success stories and liked the glam photos but ignored the few sugar babies that said this was really hard work  

8. Read the books. I didn’t read any of the suggested books. There are several reading lists floating around. It wasn’t until I’d quit the bowl for the second time that I took a moment to read any of the books on  them. The Art of Seduction by Robert Greene, How to Talk to Anyone by Leil Lowndes, and Simply Irresistible by Ellen T White are my personal favorites and I practically have them memorized I’ve read them so many times.

7. Don’t be conceited- especially if you don’t have a reason. I didn’t. I thought that I deserved a $10k allowance (well at least $5k) because I’d read a few posts about knowing your worth. But knowing your worth has nothing to do with the dollar amount you receive. And I didn’t know a damn thing. My experiences in the bowl got easier once I admitted I was clueless.

6. Money does not make a person better than you. I thought that because these men had money they were better than me. It made me accommodating. Once I remembered that money was common and was not an indication of character or intelligence, I remembered something else: this was sugar dating and dating wasn’t new to me. On a date, you’re simply a man and a woman. Being a woman having dinner with an interested man was much easier.

5. An SD can come from anywhere. There is a general consensus that most, if not all, of the sugar sites are trash and the men on them are salty but I still believed that was the only place to find an SD. Tinder proved me wrong. Twice.

4. Be clear on why you joined the bowl. I wasn’t clear on what I wanted to accomplish as a sugar baby. I had the pictures of pretty things planted in my mind but they didn’t sit right with me. They weren’t enough. Once I decided I wanted a business of my own, things began to fall into place.

3. You won’t win them all. I thought I could/had to convince every man to be my SD. I drove myself a little crazy trying to figure out ways to make myself universally pleasing.   That is impossible. For a brown sugar baby, the truth is you won’t please most men. So we have to change our mindsets. We aren’t going to please every man but we will please the right men. We will attract the right men. And that’s who we should focus on.

2. You can’t do this alone. I tried to do this without a support system of sugar babies. Ho friends are great but they still don’t get it the way a fellow sugar baby does. I know that having sugar babies reach out to me when I first started meant the world. Know that when I want to quit writing, reading your messages and anons have made me sit down and write. And knowing that @lustington and @brownstatuesquesugarbaby are just a message away? It’s one of the only reasons why we aren’t discussing my quitting the bowl for the third time. Please don’t do this alone. I’m not the best at messaging as poor @lustington is learning (thanks for being patient with me!) but I’ll be here to talk. No one understands the way we do. My family is supportive but still… Build your support system. You WILL need them.

1. Be yourself. I thought I had to be the sugar baby that Tumblr said I had to be. I thought I had to follow all of the rules Tumblr sugar babies told me to follow. But they weren’t me and I wasn’t good at not being myself. Once I became more selective about the advice I took and determined to be myself the only thing that changed was everything. Your safety is paramount. That advice should be followed. But don’t feel that you have to change your personality because of what you read on the internet. Trust yourself and your intuition.

*Bonus*You’ll never feel 100% ready. And you won’t be. You won’t learn until you do. Take as many safety precautions as you can. Get your life in as much order as you can and dive in.

*Bonus* Don’t ever be afraid to let a man go. If they’re leaving it’s to make room for something or someone else. If keeping them will compromise you or your happiness, let them go. It’s raining wealthy men. You just need to know where to find them.

What did I miss? Is there something you wish you had known when you entered the bowl?

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child has changed my life.

Hi,

I’m Maia and I’m 22 years old. I’m a cancer biology PhD student so my days are pretty academically demanding and sometimes pretty emotional. I am the biggest geek: I was bullied all through school because of it and that left me with shitty self-esteem which did (more or less) repair itself during uni. I’ve loved Harry Potter since I was 7 years old and I am Hermione Granger. (No, seriously, sometimes I quote her without even meaning to). 

I took this photo the day the banners and that famous nest went up at the Palace. I stopped writing my masters dissertation, took the afternoon off and decided I needed to see it. I got a little tingle. [No, I’m not wearing make-up, get over it!].

I didn’t have a ticket until March 2017. However, I am a Ravenclaw (with a lot of Slytherin) so I decided I was going to see it and I was going to see it during the previews! I was on twitter constantly and I finally found someone selling one as their sister could no longer go. She wanted face value and someone who was a big fan to sit with so I fitted the bill and I was going to see Cursed Child on June 25th. 

I had butterflies for WEEKS. 

Safe to say that I LOVED IT, and was sat in the middle of the Grand Circle, which is a great place for first timers as you see everything. As soon as it started I cried because HARRY WAS BACK AND RIGHT THERE. And for the first time in my life I had a character that I could relate to looks even slightly like me in Noma’s Hermione. I cried and cried during the play and when I got home that night. Before this play I wasn’t a big crier, it has changed me. 

A week later I bumped into Sam and Anthony while I was slightly drunk on the street and sort of lost my mind a bit, which should’ve been a tell-tale sign that this play was about to be my next obsession. I mean bloody hell, I am an educated, level-headed young women and I was crying because some boy liked my tweet.

I knew I needed to see the play again. I also knew there were no tickets but I’d read on Twitter that the returns queue was a viable option. We got to the theatre at 5am on the Wednesday after the gala and were lucky! Row F of the stalls (Probably the best seats I’ve sat in during this whole thing).

The play moved me even more the second time and my stage door experience was INSANELY good. This cast are the most generous, brilliant, kind people I’ve been lucky enough to meet. This time I got to meet Noma. I had a speech ready to say to her but then she recognised me from Twitter and knew me by name so I panicked and said nothing useful. (I even had to call my mum afterwards because this shook me so much). Noma I have told you a million times how much I love you but you’ve honestly made me a better, more confident person and I’ll remember that forever. Maybe someday I’ll post a picture the letter I wrote her.

Following this amazing day I went to see the play once more with a friend and then started to build a bit of a twitter friendship group. First I met Fuschia, who is such a brilliant Slytherin who I treasure dearly. Then a girl called Adriana followed me and sounded like she’d been having a shitty week. So I messaged her to say I had access to some tickets and wondered if she wanted to come. For a split second after sending the message I panicked that she would think I was weird and would just say no and unfollow me but we ended up going together. I’m so grateful it worked out because I can’t imagine my life without her now. Adriana then introduced me to Iona who splash landed into my life and has been stirring it up in amazing ways since. 

We then proceeded to start script reading and drinking wine at 3pm. We ended up meeting up with Gemma who we nearly scared off because we were very intoxicated and loud but (thank God) she stayed and is now a beautiful friend. 

This is Adriana hugging a pillar outside the palace at like midnight which sums up October, when I went to see the play 5 times because you’re all fucking insane. 

At some point during this drunken month I met Jack (I think this was we love the spare night), who is the wittiest, loveliest friend now. But I’m still slightly concerned that he came and stayed at my house for the Fantastic Beasts premiere after only meeting me once, piss drunk at stage door. I mean I know I’m ok… 

At the FB premiere we told all the press that we were most excited to see Jeremy Ang Jones and got unnecessarily excited to see the cast even though we’d met them at stage door about 300 times. This was probably the first time the cast recognised us and I realised just how deep I was into this fandom. 

We then picked up Emily, Miriam, Megan, Steph and Anna and somehow acquired the name “Cursed Child Inner Circle” which we promise sounds more cult-like that it actually is! (We now prefer HP Love Crew because this isn’t a cult.)

On December 17th, 2016 we all went to see the play together. It was a ticket buying feat. We had to pool all our skills. Jack came down (JACKS IN TOWNNN) and we all had the BEST day hanging out together. 

When we’re in, we whoop and cheer and clap and try to bring the audience up to our excitement level. The security can’t believe how excited we still look whenever we walk in but we still are so SO excited! 

Since then, Susy B and Manon have joined our group and I’m loving getting to know you two!

Something about Cursed Child had clearly struck a chord with me. This is a genius production- I have honestly cried more than once because the lighting looks so beautiful with the cloaks in the movement sequences and the music brings up emotions which I didn’t know I needed to feel. The fact that the crux of the play is two geeky losers having their first adventure really resonates with me because that’s kinda where I am in my life now. My obsession with the play coincided with me starting my PhD and moving out of my parents house to living with friends. As much as I could’ve watched every play in the West End with the money I’ve spent on this one, it has been so important for me to really get to know these characters. 

More than anything, Scorpius’s character development throughout the play from a fidgety, confused kid to someone who walks up to Rose and asks her out (however much I don’t ship that) is something that I’ve gone through in these 7 months. I’ve met so many new people, allowed myself to get to know them, pushed myself out of my science-y world and allowed myself to really start feeling things. I’ve got a lot of comments from family saying that I’m so outgoing now, people who can’t believe how social I’m being and this play is to thank for that. I’ve been confident enough to go to writing and spoken work workshops (god, I’m even going to a performance workshop this week) and push myself so far out of my comfort zone in ways I never thought I would.

But this is so much due to the amazing friends I’ve made. Every single one of you has made these past few months the best of my life. You’re all so unique and beautiful. I feel honoured to have witnessed us all grow into more unapologetic, geeky fangirls and blessed to see you grow in your lives. I know that I will be able lean on you for support and encouragement as I embark on PhD insanity and I hope you all trust that I will do my best to be just as good of a friend. The love and support that comes out of this group has strengthened me. We all come from different places, we’re different ages, we have different dreams but we’re all on our way up to great things and I’m so excited that I get to see where we all go and live it with you. I can’t believe this play brought us together but I’m so SO glad I have you all now.

I love you CCIC.

#WeMetOnTheInternet

Freewriting

You’ve probably heard of “freewriting." Here’s what you do:

You sit down, you get comfortable, and you start writing. Some people set a timer for 10, 15 or 20 minutes before they start. Because the game is, you don’t stop writing during those 10, 15, 20 minutes, even if—especially if—you don’t know what to write. If that happens, you write, "I can’t think of something to write,” or whatever. You also don’t go back to correct anything, even typos. In freewriting, there is no concept of a “mistake,” because once you’re done, you just throw it away. You don’t even read it yourself, unless you feel like it.

The point of the exercise is to expend no effort except for the physical effort of writing or typing. Your goal is not to choose words so much as spew words out. Think of it as the writing equivalent of finger-painting. It’s an exercise in not giving a shit.

This is the best way I know for reducing anxiety around writing. Peter Elbow suggests scheduling it at least three times a week. Personally, I don’t schedule it; I do it at random moments during the day when it occurs to me. This addresses my sense that writing is very difficult to start. If you get into the habit of just dropping what you’re doing and spontaneously writing something, writing starts to seem like less of a big deal. 

If you want, you can relax the rule about not stopping. I found that if I told myself “I can’t stop!” I made myself anxious—“oh my god, I’ll be trapped doing this thing for ten minutes!”—which impeded my willingness to do it at all. So allow yourself to stop if you need to—but just to rest, not to think.

Freewriting can be practiced for as short a time as you have—five minutes, thirty seconds, however long you can tolerate it or spare. You can do it while you’re on hold or waiting for a file to download. Or you can put a reminder on your phone. Every day, every other day, every other other day, whatever. If you ultimately want to “make writing a habit,” you could pick a time slot and just fill that slot with freewriting for now. That will certainly build a habit, and it asks almost nothing of you except to sit in a chair and move your fingers until your timer goes off.

Well, okay: it asks slightly more of you than that. Freewriting is similar to meditation or mindfulness practice: you do have to focus, and mainly you focus on what’s in your head. For some folks, that can be uncomfortable. If it is, try to focus on the words and not on you. If you can’t stand your own thoughts, describe what you see around you instead. Or think of the words as grit that has collected inside you that you’re flushing out—like turning on a faucet to clear rust out of the pipes. The words are already there, so when you freewrite, you’re just discharging them. Those words aren’t you, they’re just words.

I offer you this rusty pipe metaphor because it has helped me a lot. Writing, for me, has always meant feeling my lack of worth in its fullest intensity—as if every word I write were declaring my mediocrity. So of course I avoided it. But if I think of the words as grit in a pipe, my self—my own abilities and my own psyche—are not at issue. Just caked, rotten, crusty words that need to be dissolved, loosened and washed out.

Freewriting has a few purposes, according to Elbow. As I said, it trains you to decouple your words from you, to write with less fear that what you write reflects on you. It accustoms you to producing “bad” writing and seeing that the world doesn’t end. It teaches you to make mistakes without fear—or rather, to write without “mistake” vs. “correct” even entering the picture. 

The real point of freewriting is just to practice spontaneously generating words. Merely generating words, it turns out, is difficult and demanding before you even ask whether they’re the right words. Many of us (though not all) can generate words with relative ease when we talk. But for reasons that are mysterious to me, writing doesn’t work like speaking. Maybe it’s because you have more time to choose your words when you’re writing—and there’s nobody sitting there, responding to what you say. The point is, the channel between your brain and your typing/writing hands can get stiff and clogged. So the first step toward writing without pain and anxiety is simply to loosen and unclog that channel. You’re not even building a skill, you’re just stretching a muscle.

I find when I freewrite that after a few minutes, my mental state shifts. I go into a sort of trance in which things are happening in my mind and I’m observing them but I don’t feel like I’m controlling them. Which, for someone who lives her life with an iron grip on her every thought and deed, is an enormous relief. Once I stop freewriting and start writing normally, some of that lightness lingers. My mind and body remember the sensation and can return to it even when I write more slowly and deliberately.

If writing is extremely difficult for you, you might need to do nothing but freewrite for a while. You might need the sustained experience of producing words that won’t be evaluated, that can’t be evaluated. Even once you start writing normally again, you could still spend the first few minutes of your writing time freewriting, just to clear the pipes.

Try it. Try freewriting for thirty seconds. Right now. Just open up a new document or grab an empty junk mail envelope and see what it’s like.


Next post: how not to do too much at once

Ask me a question or send me feedback!

Favorite Kaisoo moments : (Personal choice )

@stvnylnt  Here is the post I promised you :) The moments are a personal choice so some other shippes might not see them as important or evident but I consider ‘top’ moments. 

10) Just looking at you makes me happy 

The genuine instant happiness that spreads across Kyungsoo’s face from just looking at Jongin is so beautiful and so precious.  Jongin wasn’t doing anything to make him laugh, no funny face and as you can see, he wasn’t talking ( telling a joke or smthg) YET Kyungsoo smiles so widely when their eyes meet.  Just look at how happy he becomes when Jongin turns to him. Would you smile like that at someone you don’t genuinely like ? Also if you’ve noticed, Kyungsoo was intensely staring at Jongin even before he turned towards him. This moment is so precious.

9) I can’t keep my hands off of you 

This moment is just legendary. Look at how naturally Jongin holds Kyungsoo’s hand into his, caressed it and keep their hands intertwined for while, all while casually talking to the person next to him.  This moment is among the most suspicious Kaisoo moments I have ever seen. Friends just don’t do this. This such a couple thing, touching you for no reason just to feel you and be close to you. Look at how Kyungsoo instantly glances up straight to the camera, he looks a bit nervous to me, like he was worried or something which makes what’s going on even more credible. 

8) You are all I see

Similar moment 

The two moments are gold. Jongin seems to be always unable to keep his eyes of Kyungsoo, even when there is no reason for him to stare. I noticed how sometimes in group interviews, Jongin will often be looking in Kyungsoo’s general direction, he would glance at whosoever talking and then back to Ks ( mostly unconsciously) and  so on. In the second picture, it looks like suddenly during a live performance, Jongin decided to glance back ( which is something he rarely does, we all know how serious he is about delivering a perfect dance) and caught Kyungsoo’s eyes and the two remained looking at each other for few more seconds.  It feels to me like looking at each other, in some, reassure/calms Kaisoo, specially during performances. This is not the only time they’ve done it.

7)  You got me under your spell 

This moment is one of the most iconic and telling moments of all the KD history. Jongin just looks plain mesmerised by Kyungsoo. Let’s be honest here, if you caught your straight male friend gazing at a girl this same exact way , would you even doubt for a second that he has some sort of crush on her ? I think that answers why this is on the list. 

6) Suddenly shy 

This moment is one that I add to my list of the most suspicious and credible Kaisoo moments. Just look at how timid and shy Jongin is suddenly behaving once he realizes Kyungsoo is behind him. His whole demeanor is off  (nervous, stiff and curling towards himself). In the second gif, he subtly throws a quick glance at Kyungsoo and once he find the other already looking at him, he instantly looks away, like he didn’t want to get caught looking but couldn’t help himself. What you conclude from this is up to you but I say, someone has a crush. 

5) I am here for you

Such beautiful caring moments. Kyungsoo never hesitates to step in and help. He is there whenever Jongin needs him. I love how giving and attentive he is to Jongin’s needs/health. He truly cares for him and that shows. and it goes both ways : 

(Jongin stops to bring the chair closer for Kyungsoo)

4) Goofing around

I truly love this small moment. It’s not often that we get to see Kyungsoo all playful and goofy but look at how at ease he is biting into Jongin’s hat and teasing him. A great indication of a intimate healthy bond is the ability to let go, loosen up around each other and goof around. Just look at how happy they look. 

3)  The infamous Eskimo kiss

This moment is beyond beautiful. It’s the most heartwarming display of affection that Kaisoo has ever expressed towards one another. It speaks of a great level of intimacy and trust. I love how they naturally turn towards each other and rub noses. So adorable <3

2) The golden moment : ‘My Jagi’

It would be a crime not to include this moment in the list. I don’t think I need to explain myself.  It can’t get any clearer than this.

1)  I need you closer  ( my personal favorite)

And here it is, my personal favorite. I know there are better and more intimate moments than this one but I just love it. It sums up their entire relationship. Look at how Jongin’s hands casually encircled Kyungsoo’s waist in front of the whole world and somehow kyungsoo doesn’t show a single sight of protest or discomfort. They look so natural together, so right. The chemistry between them is just pouring off the picture. I showed this picture to a non-kpop fan friend and she told me :” I never knew there was a famous gay couple in Korea. What’s their names ?”.  Kaisoo can’t get more couple-y than this. 

That’s about it :) choosing was so hard because every Kaisoo moment is a precious moment but I had to settle on certain ones so I hope I answered your ask. 

Credits : all the gifs and pics used belong to their respective owners. Thank you. 

I Held a Swastika.

Part of my hospital chaplaincy duties is to write a reflection on how it’s going. Identities may be altered for privacy. All the writings are here.


The nurse told me that the patient, Willard, had taken a bite out of another nurse. He had swung at one of the doctors and thrown urine at a surgeon. Willard had multiple organ failure and he couldn’t walk; he kept demanding to go home. “Get me a wheelchair, I’ll flop in and ride over you people.” The staff kept trying to get him to stay, to get treated, despite his violent non-compliance: because nurses and doctors have the guts to look past that stuff.

They called for a chaplain to ask about Willard’s family members, to see if anyone could pick him up when he was discharged. I was the lucky chaplain who took the order.

When I walked in, I immediately noticed the patient had a tattoo of a heart on his hand, near the inner-fold of his thumb, with a swastika in the middle of the heart. The cognitive dissonance was startling. Not “I love mom” or his wife’s name, I thought, with a bit of snark. But hate in your heart. Very subtle.

“He’s one of those, you know, angry old fogeys,” the nurse had whispered right before I walked in. The nurse was a Middle Eastern man, about my age, and I couldn’t imagine the awful things he had to go through with this patient the last few days.

My eyes locked on the swastika first. The symbol held a terrible place in my memory: when I was a kid, someone had spraypainted a red swastika next to the front door of my dad’s business. Though my dad had tried to paint over it, I could still see it on hot summer days, a scar on the wall and a scar in my head, a mad throbbing declaration of all the world’s ugliness dripping in crimson. I still dream about it sometimes, and in the dream I’ll peer down at my wrists, which are engraved with the same red marks down to the veins.

The patient, Willard, saw me and said, “Thank God, a chaplain, finally someone who can hear me.”

But I don’t want to hear you, I thought. And a sick part of me also thought, You deserve this. I hope you never leave. Then you can’t hurt anyone out there.

He said, “Look, I see your face, I’m not trying to hurt anybody. You get it? I just want to go home. Fetch me a f__ing wheelchair, would you?.”

Willard got louder. He clenched his fists and waved them around. It was rather sad to see someone so animated and aggressive while pinned down to a bed, like the blanket had eaten his lower half and he was trying to crawl out. “Come on, I told you people that I wouldn’t hurt nobody. I got a dozen things wrong with me, I’m not a danger to you, I want to go home and to die in peace. You hear me? I’m ready to go home and die.”

He went on like this for over a minute. That’s a long time to stand there and let someone monologue with escalating hysteria. He dropped more f-bombs and jabbed a finger at me and tried to point at the whole hospital. His voice got so loud that I was worried about the patients nearby, and that maybe the nurse would call security, or that Willard himself would keel over. At several points it looked like he wanted to hop out of the bed and punch my ankles. The strange swastika-heart tattoo flashed before me like a flag on fire.

I had half a mind to leave. I didn’t have to stay. I didn’t want to stay. I kept looking at that swastika. I kept thinking he deserved to be here, to be sick and sorry and helpless.

When Willard stopped talking for a moment, I said the only thing I could think of.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Willard. It sounds like you have a lot going on and it’s been really hard for you.”

He said, “Yes, yes it’s been hard. I swear, I’m not a bad person.” And he burst into tears.

Just like that, his face flipped from anger to grief, and his entire body melted into the bed. Just a broken down old man, crying.

Then he motioned so I could hold his hand. He needed me to hold that hand.

For a second, I stood there, confused and bewildered and infuriated. This is not okay, I thought. You’re everything I hate about the world. Why would you think this is okay?

I pictured two of me, one turning about face and never looking back and absolutely unable to endorse what this guy stood for, and the other me stepping forward in an ostensible betrayal of my deepest values, of my father, of that little child who had to ask why someone would paint such a dirty symbol of hatred over us. I remembered going with my dad to buy new paint, his face set and smiling and determined to be better than this, to make it in a harsh, lonely country that never fully welcomed him, but that he welcomed anyway, because he dared to believe in bigger dreams than the ones that had been painted for him. And I wondered if we were ever going to make it like this, that if we walked away from each other that we would ever heal, and if maybe the very same hands that could carve such scars could also build a life through those wounds, too.

Dad, you showed me something better. You dreamed bigger. You built the dream in me.

So I stepped forward anyway.

I held that man’s hand. I held his swastika, that ugly little tattoo with the heart tattooed around it. 

Willard sobbed, loudly. I asked if he believed in prayer, and he did. I prayed. When I finished, I tried to pull my hand back, but he wasn’t having it. The nurse walked in, a little alarmed, giving me that look: This guy is a real human being who cries, huh?

The nurse prepared a syringe and gave Willard a few shots. My hand was nearly crushed. Willard kept sobbing; I must’ve held his hand for fifteen minutes while he wept and wept. I was silent. No words would work here. And at some point, our hands together, I didn’t want to leave anymore. This all made sense somehow, some kind of crazy giddy exuberant kind of sense, like God or the universe or fate had aligned and unlocked and we were exactly as we were meant to be. I still wasn’t entirely comfortable, and I wasn’t okay with all this man represented: but I pictured a river breaking through, breaking up our old walls and taking down the guard-posts and making the roads new. I wish I could fully describe the lightness in my being right then, a kind of diffused outwardness from my elbow to my fingertips, like my arm was stretching with a pulse. We were painting something different, maybe for our first time. I didn’t think this made me the “bigger person,” because I had every instinct to leave, and there were plenty of times I had failed at this before. I only knew that I had to choose against myself, and choices like this matter, maybe more than the ones we want right now.

When we parted, Willard looked up at me with eyes brimming red.

He didn’t say anything. He only nodded. And inexplicably, we both laughed, just once. I don’t know why we laughed, but it was good.

Later, I told my fellow chaplain, “I have to tell you the craziest story.”

And my friend, at the end, laughed at the obvious symbolism.

“I guess you were the heart around that guy’s swastika.”

I could only nod. I was my father, painting over old scars.

J.S.

Ruin part 2

Requested by @latteshawn PART 2 PART 2 and anonymous: part 2 to ruin?? it was amazing!! part 1

AN: Thank you both for requesting! It felt really good knowing at least two people enjoyed it enough for a second part. I’m going to put out there how hard I’ve tried today to do the Shawn Mendes Accent Challenge, but I’m so technologically challenged it wasn’t working. I’m still going to try and figure out how to post it though because it was a lot of fun. Also, thank you to @ihaveabadreputation for always being up for reading over my imagines. Allison is amazing !


Originally posted by your-local-killjoy

 Sunday had passed incredibly slowly. You kept to yourself the entire day, avoiding your family. Shawn hasn’t texted or called, which was understandable. You just weren’t sure if it was up to you to make the next move. Even if you did, you had no idea what it should entail. It had been less than twenty four hours and you were still very committed to your boyfriend. You hadn’t bothered telling anyone what happened, either. 

Your finger hovers over Shawn’s name in your contacts then moves to your boyfriends. You came to the one conclusion that sounded fair. The only way you’d reach out to Shawn would be to end things with your boyfriend. You didn’t doubt that it was incredibly rushed, but Shawn made you feel things you only heard of in books, or movies. 

The entire idea sounded insane in your head, but you needed to be honest with yourself. ‘Why were you dating your boyfriend?’ ‘How long would you keep loving him so wholeheartedly, waiting for him to open up with his feelings?’ 'Why were you lying to your friends, but more than that, to yourself?' 

High school seemed to be built off drama between friends and relationships. Even though half the couples you came in contact with only talked through social media. Maybe you were waiting for someone to notice that you weren’t invested in your relationship the way you had once been. That didn’t mean you planned for the words to come from Shawn. 

He was the last person you expected to make you think it was ok to end something that wasn’t going anywhere. You had been no better. Even though you never thought of yourself as being in one of those “cliche high school couples” that’s exactly what you were. Chasing someone’s love who didn’t want to give it to you. Why were you making it so hard on yourself when it could be so much easier? 

Keep reading

Mom

Summary: It’s Mother’s Day, and Jughead doesn’t know if he should call Gladys Jones or not. After all, didn’t she turn her back on him?

A/N: Happy Mother’s Day to all the Moms out there! Thanks for being the light of our lives, our role models, and our support. Love you!

Jughead Jones sits on the bed of the Spellman’s second guest room, well, his room, trying to make a decision that, in any other case, wouldn’t require so much thought.

But Jughead was Jughead, and he always managed to be different.

He shifts his palm over the black sheets with a thread count of 600, and puts his head back on the matching, fluffy pillows. The Spellmans may live in the South Side of Riverdale, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t well-to-do.

Jughead finds it ironic. That his Serpent jacket sits in his closet, among a variety of coats and jackets, (which, over a year ago, he wouldn’t have had) while he enjoys Eggo waffles and uses their Tresemme conditioner every morning. He knows some other Serpents resent him slightly for that, but they owe his father everything, so they keep their mouths shut.

He bites his lip.

It’s Mother’s Day.

He and Sabrina have already showered Mrs. Spellman with a Sunday Brunch, flowers, and gift coupons. Sabrina’s made the obligatory instagram post, a picture of the three of them, where Diana Spellman is looking at Jughead like he’s her own son. He’s lived with them for all of six months, and they’ve treated him like he’s a Spellman.

Even though he can’t bring himself to call his foster mother ‘mom’, he knows she’s done more for him than Gladys Jones ever has.

Despite that, Gladys Jones is still his mother, still someone who’s shaped him to be who he is today, and he’s deliberating whether to call her up. He hasn’t talked to her for a while- not since he found out that she said ‘No’ to Social Services when they asked her to take him in.

Jug closes his eyes and picks his phone up, wondering whether he should call Betty for advice.

Keep reading

advice that really mattered to me for games/cg

hello! i said i’d write up a quick thing on my experience going to school for games/art and a little bit abt how u can potentially increase ur chances of landing a job. i’m really excited to have started working on spiderm@n ps4 at insomni@c games this week, and i kind of wanted to pass on some useful general advice that a lot of people have shared with me in case u might also find it helpful!

Keep reading

reedayne  asked:

I've always wanted to participate in NaNoWriMo, and to be honest I'm quite nervous. Do you have any advice?

Originally posted by emzie-boy

I understand the nerves. The first time I had heard of NaNoWriMo was through a friend and I talked myself out of it. I had months to decide if I was going to do it and in the end I was afraid of not writing enough, I also was scared of what would happen if I was suddenly struck with writer’s block. I was putting so much pressure on the event because writing means a lot to me. All I could picture was the ways I was going to fail miserably. I was working through my writing fears when someone told me something I’ll use as long as I live.

When something scares you, it means it’s worth doing. The nerves are because you know there’s potential and that call to action is scary.

The biggest thing to remember is that it’s ok if you don’t finish in that month. Not everyone gets their novel done in one month. It’s awesome to try. Also you can set your own goal so there’s room for adjustment if 50.000 is too much. It gives you a great start that you can work on after the month is over. The best part is the resources! There are so many helpful tools via NaNoWriMo as well as posts from people who have benefitted from participating.

I’m answering this question now for a few reasons. Yes there’s still 8 months until November but there are things you can do now to prepare yourself and take some of the pressure off.

Keep reading

teen choice awards

requested: “can you do one where shawn meets y/n backstage or something and shes like shy but interesting at first and occasionally he gets her to sing, she sings a whintey houston-ish song you know a big ballad and he’s blown away and wants to make her famous.”

also requested: “hi bb I love your writings!! Could you please write something where y/n is a famous singer and meets Shawn at the Teen Choice Awards and they hit it off/flirt/exchange numbers? Probably kinda weird but I would love it!!!! xoxo” authors note: i thought i would sorta combine these two and i hope y'all don’t mind. also, this imagine is rather long and it takes a bit of time to get to the point so i apologize. i was just trying to figure everything out and make sure it all made sense. idek.

“Please work.” You mumbled to yourself while messing around with the lens on you camera. For some reason it wouldn’t click right whenever you tried to put it on, and you were terrified at the fact that it could be broken. You worked as a photographer and tonight your job was to take pictures of the celebrities who performed at the Teen Choice Awards. You’ve been photographing moments for as long as you can remember but you’ve never had this big of an opportunity until now. You had already met several celebrities backstage and you were in awe at how humble some of them were, and also how rude some of them were. Everyone was different and it was interesting to see.

“Are you okay?” You heard a voice say and you quickly looked up, taking your glasses off and resting them on your head. You really only needed glasses to see things up close, but whenever you were talking to someone or doing anything else, you didn’t need them, and sometimes they’d give you a headache. Before you could respond, the voice spoke up again.

“Oh cool, what kind of camera is that?” It took you a minute to realize, but once you blinked hard a few times, you finally noticed that Shawn Mendes was talking to you. The Shawn Mendes from Vine, the kid you had a huge crush on when you first discovered him in Magcon.

“Canon 5d mark iii.” You said shyly trying hard to hide your flustered cheeks and pounding heart.

“Cool. My friend is a photographer and he’s actually here taking some pics. I assume that’s what you’re doing too? Oh sorry, I totally forgot to even introduce myself, I’m Shawn.” He smiled wide and stuck out his hand. You awkwardly put down your camera on the nearest table and stood up to shake his hand before saying, “I’m Y/N.”

“So is everything okay? I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but it sounded like you were having some trouble.” Shawn said politely. He was just as sweet as his fanbase always said he was.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine. I was just having trouble putting my lens on. But it’s okay.” You said laughing a little, trying to make things more casual. You always laughed whenever you got nervous. After a few extra minutes of small talk with Shawn, he eventually had to go on stage to perform and you had to be out there too, taking pictures. You got some good shots of several different celebrities so you were proud of yourself. As the evening went on, it got later and you got tired. Your photography instructor told you take however many pictures you wanted, and she didn’t give you any time frames, so you figured you would give yourself a small break, and sit backstage on one of the couches and listen to Ariana Grande’s performance. She sang her powerful song Dangerous Woman which you loved. Ariana’s voice was strong and beautiful and you always wished you could sing something like that. After you sang along to Ariana’s performance, you decided to sing the song again but by yourself since it seemed that no one was around to hear your mediocre singing voice.

“Makessss me feel like a dangerous wommannn.” You flipped through snapchat stories on your phone as you belted out the rest of her song. You sang the last line, and your heart jumped out of your chest when all of a sudden you heard someone clapping. You almost dropped your phone.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. But that was incredible Y/N!” It was Shawn. Shawn Mendes was talking to you again. You sat there wide eyed, with bright red cheeks feeling a bit embarrassed about the fact that he just heard you sing, but you also felt slightly confused about the fact that he said it was incredible. You never thought your voice was really any good. You sang in choirs before, and you sing in the shower and in the car, but you always looked at singing as a hobby. You wished for it to be something more, but that never seemed realistic to you.

“Uh, thank you!” You said with a small smile, and putting your phone in your back pocket.

“That voice of yours deserves to be on the radio or something, seriously. How long have you been singing?” Shawn walked over, and sat down next to you on the couch.

“I don’t know, for as long as I can remember?” You laughed shyly, and looked at him, still wondering why he even thought you sounded good. Was he messing with you? Were you being pranked?

“You shouldn’t be sitting on a couch backstage, you should be performing, on stage.” Shawn was sitting rather close to you, and his voice was soft. He sounded genuine. You were in shock. Shawn Mendes, someone you thought had the voice of an angel, was saying that you had a good voice. And you didn’t know what to say, so you just looked down and smiled, trying to remain as humble as possible.

Two years later

You played with the cord of the microphone as you tried to keep a straight face, while being interviewed backstage at the Teen Choice Awards. “You’ve gotten quite popular so quickly, do you ever miss when you weren’t famous?” The woman said to you with a smile on her face.

“Of course, but I love this job. I’m grateful either way.” You said simply. After a few more questions, you finally finished the interview. You sat backstage while people reapplied makeup, and you chatted with whoever else was getting their makeup done. Several people congratulated you on your new album that was just released, and you thanked them. Your life has drastically changed after your old friend Shawn Mendes had convinced you to post a over on YouTube. After you did, he shouted you out, causing you to gain thousands of followers and soon enough you were signed. But that was two years ago. You and Shawn talked as friends for maybe 6 months and then stopped. You don’t know why but it just happened. Both of your lives were busy, so you didn’t really let it bother you. Just as you were thinking of someone you haven’t spoken to for so long, Shawn walked into the room backstage. You pretended not to notice by looking at yourself in the mirror, fixing any mistakes your makeup artists made. You weren’t a makeup expert but sometimes your makeup artist didn’t know what looked good on you.

“Y/N?” You heard him. Shawn. You saw him now too. You saw him behind you in the reflection of the mirror and you quickly turned around.

“Shawn!” You said kindly giving him an awkward hug.

“It’s been so long. How are you? Congrats on your album by the way.” He scratched the back of his neck as he spoke.

“Thank you! And I’m great, how are you?”

You remembered very well when you met Shawn two years ago, at this exact place. It was crazy how you went from taking pictures of celebrities, to actually becoming a celebrity and now you watched people take pictures of you. You and Shawn talked for about 20 minutes or so. The awards show was technically over and you were supposed to be attending an afterparty but instead you were here talking with Shawn. You both caught up on each other’s lives and eventually you exchanged numbers. You had his number from two years ago, but apparently it was changed.

“I’m sorry for not talking to you for so long. I’m glad we caught up though, and I’d love to take this conversation further sometime, somewhere else.” Shawn’s cheeks were a pretty pink and it made you smile. Was he asking you on a date?

“Like.. Where?” You teased him and laughed, titling your head.

“You ever been to that coffee shop downtown?”

“I haven’t actually.” And so Shawn and you skipped the afterparty and went on a simple date to the coffee shop, and talked for the rest of the night.

Oh Kara,

It’s not that simple.

I’m sure Snapper would yell at you to see the bigger picture. Frankly I’m a little disappointed you’ve resorted immediately to platitudes and promises you can’t keep. This isn’t some franchise movie where the world resets with a motivational speech. Someone who’s lost as much as you have? Should know that only too well.

Though you’re right about Carter. He’s exceptional in every way. We’ve talked more since he’s been allowed to see me post-incident than we have in the past year. Boys, teens… tough. They don’t put any premium on communication. I feel wretched that I’ve scared him so badly he can’t help but talk to me every chance he gets. All the same, the selfish needs of a mother’s love make me soak up every second of it. I know it’s going to stop again before long.

Adam was informed, or so I’m told. He sent flowers to the house, not much in the way of a note. It’s better than I would have expected even a year ago. I know I have you to thank. I’m trying to remember all the reasons I have to be grateful, to Kara and to Supergirl.

Because, you see, I did call out to you. That first shot hit me in the shoulder and I called your name. Correctly. Not Keira. Not the girl of headlines and legends. Two syllables I denied you for so long.

Kara.

You didn’t come. I’ve never been more terrified - that I was dying, that I’d never see my sons again, that we’d leave each other in the midst of this ongoing conversation I’ve come to look forward to more than I should - and you didn’t come. It’s there in my medical records that I was asking for you before they put me under. But you weren’t there.

Which I would never have questioned you on. I’m sure something much more important kept you in National City. I have my own security detail, and they saved me as best they could. I didn’t need you, technically. But in the worst possible moment, I wanted you.

Arrogant? Self-serving? Mean-spirited of me to tell you now? Perhaps all these things are true, but we’ve promised to be honest with one another. Just like you were honest on my balcony when you were drugged. The truth will out. That’s why I don’t want you to visit Kara, aside from my vanity. I’m not sure how to feel when my faith is so shaken.

I believe you’ll do anything you can to save anyone. I suppose I tricked myself into thinking I’d found myself once again on the VIP list. Maybe that’s not how it works with heroes. I should know better than to expect to be anything special to you.

So don’t take time out of your busy life to come here and inspect my bruises. You don’t even have to keep looking out for Carter, that was more than I should have asked. I’ll see you when I’m back on the job - sooner, rather than later - and I have reason to visit the National City facilities on official business.

Writing this much is far more than I should have done, so you’ll forgive me if I’m too tired to continue.