not without work and rest

anonymous asked:

I know you're super busy with grad school and writing a book (!) and everything, so I was wondering how you maintain your productivity and if you have any tips in that regard. If you feel comfortable, would you be able to tell us how you break down your free time (like the time not spent actually in class or at work)? I'm a grad student too and I'm really struggling to keep up with everything I have to do :/

Sure! I kind of went out of the frying pan and into the fire the first time I tried grad school, so this time around I’ve set up some non-negotiables when it comes to my time management so that I’m not working without any rest. A few of them are as follows:

  1. Absolutely no work on Saturdays. Each semester I pick one day a week where I don’t even so much as check my email, and I spend the day resting on the couch or writing for fun. Last fall that day was Thursday, and the past two semesters it has been Saturday. 
  2. No checking/answering email after 8:30pm. Ideally I aim for 7pm, but if I have a late class, the rule is flexible.
  3. I keep a strict sleep schedule of 11pm-7am. I never sacrifice sleep to work.
  4. I’ve committed to certain social activities every week that I attend unless absolutely drained. These include church on Sunday mornings, Bible study group on Thursdays, and Happy Hour every other Wednesday. I consider this commitments because it’s necessary for me to be social for my own well-being, and so I try to keep to these times every week. I treat them as importantly as my school and work. 
  5. I make sure I give myself breaks for fun in the middle of work sessions. For example, I’ll grade 6 exams and then reward myself with an episode of Parks & Rec. 
  6. I give myself permission to do dumb things in my free time. I have picked up Candy Crush again recently. But I figure I put so much brainwork into my everyday that I deserve something mindless now and then. 

What it mostly comes down to is that I value my free time and make sure that I’m regularly observing it and that I make it just as important to me as my work time. It’s not “optional.” If there’s work that doesn’t get done or a book that doesn’t get read, that’s simply the way it has to be. As it is, I work at least 40 hours a week (sometimes probably closer to 50), so whatever off-time I have is well-earned. 

I hope you found this helpful! Everyone needs to find their own stride in grad school, but my mantra is this: “What Sarah Does is not the same thing as Who Sarah Is.” And this helps keep me from losing myself in the demands of graduate school. Best of luck in your program! 


Our task is to construct an image of the man. We don’t yet know him. But we will.
└ for @johnsmoore ♡ (The Alienist (2018))

This is Shigeru Mizuki

He was born March 8 1922 and passed away November 30 2015 at age 93.

Mizuki-san was a manga-ka and historian, most famous for his Kitaro manga, Which he started publishing in 1960.

I could give a textbook account of him and everything he’s done and his influence on Japanese culture and revival of the interest in Yokai in Japan as a whole, but I just want to point out some very small things about him;

The first is, unlike a lot of Manga-ka of the 60s, Mizuki did not learn to draw Manga from Tezuka’s school…. or any school at all. He was one of those weird ‘natural talents’ you always hear about but actual examples of are hard to find. Mizuki was one such person. He just inately knew how to draw. And as a result, despite influences from other manga at the time, his characters generally don’t resemble what we think of when we think of ‘60s manga’

Not to mention that, despite his preferred art style, he was diverse in what he could do with how he drew, easily going from his more cartoony drawings to a more realistic style, sometimes doing both at once.

Mizuki-san was drafted into the Japanese Imperial Army during WWII, and during the war contracted malaria and lost his left arm during an explosion.

He was left-handed.

However, despite disease, losing his drawing-hand, being the only surviving member of his unit and literally being ‘ordered to die’ by his superiors, Mizuki survived the war and taught himself to draw with his right hand and just kept going.

His manga that he’s famous for were all done after he lost his dominant arm.

All his manga have a personal autobiographical touch to them. Whether it’s “Showa” which is literally a historical account of what Japan was like from the 20s to the 80s, to Kitaro, which is about the stories of Yokai told to him by his elderly neighbour, all his manga have something personal about them.

He is a cultural icon in Japan for keeping traditional ghost stories and creatures alive in the modern consciousness, as well as his contributions to Japanese history regarding WWII. He traveled the world, gathering ghost stories and traditional folklore from other countries as well.

He’s been awarded a string of awards I’m not even gonna attempt to list, although personally I feel most noteworthy is the ‘Personal of Cultural Merit’ award in 2010 and the ‘Order of the Rising Sun’ Award.

But again, that is his importance historically and culturally, whereas I find his personal struggles regarding the loss of his arm and just relearning how to draw something more personal to know as an artist.

With this in mind, He is also noteworthy for never really following the idea that most manga-ka of the time had that ‘you only need 3 hours sleep a night’ or to keep working without rest. Mizuki never really followed that belief. He got a full night’s sleep every night, and fully believed in actually LIVING life, and not just spending your entire life behind a desk, drawing.

He later joked offhandedly that at age 90 he was still around whereas everyone else of the same time period making manga had long since died.

I feel this is incredibly important to remember. Tezuka believed in working non-stop and barely sleeping. And he is undoubtedly the most important contributor to what we think of as manga today. But Mizuki-san, who is just as important to Japanese culture, believed in sleeping well, living life, and being happy. And he was ALSO important, created amazing work, and is recognized as a master.

You don’t need to work yourself to death to be an artist.

Mizuki-san had a list of ‘7 rules to happiness’, which I honestly feel is worth remembering. It may be things we’ve heard before, but this coming from a man, who went through active war, lost limbs, nearly died,retaught himself how to draw because he wasn’t able to give up, made an impact on Japanese culture, believed in living life, refused to overwork himself and lived to the age of 93, it feels like you can trust his advice. because he’s someone who’s seen some serious shit, but he was happy, and he’d learned how to be happy. And from what I’ve heard remained happy and content until he died of natural causes.

Number 1

‘Don’t try to win – Success is not the measure of life. Just do what you enjoy. Be happy.’

Number 2

‘Follow your curiosity – Do what you feel drawn towards, almost like a compulsion. What you would do without money or reward.’

Number 3

‘Pursue what you enjoy – Don’t worry if other people find you foolish. Look at all the people in the world who are eccentric—they are so happy! Follow your own path.’

Number 4

‘Believe in the power of love – Doing what you love, being with people you love. Nothing is more important.’

Number 5

‘Talent and income are unrelated – Money is not the reward of talent and hard work. Self-satisfaction is the goal. Your efforts are worthy if you do what you love.’

Number 6

‘Take it easy – Of course you need to work, but don’t overdo it! Without rest, you’ll burn yourself out.’

Number 7

‘Believe in what you cannot see – The things that mean the most are things you cannot hold in your hand.’

Newcomers Pt5


“Please take them, they are trashing my ships!” Polt begged Admiral Ilom

“I have my own Humans here, I can’t handle more you deal with your own problems. Besides they liberated Remer why do you want to get rid of them?”

“Because they have a holiday every week or some kind of celebration and they keep changing the decorations, besides they eat EVERYTHING!!! Our own food supplies have dwindled and we have requested twice the normal food shipments but still they keep eating!!!”

“Well eat their food then, I’m sure they will share”

“Have you eaten their food?” Polt asked putting his winged arms on his hips, a stance he mimicked form the Humans.  

“…I see your point, but the answer is still no, you’ll just have to find a way of dealing with them” Ilom cut the link and Polt started pulling out his feathers in frustration but was distracted by a knock on the door.

There was a male Human in a small white dress and wearing a large horse mask standing there.

“Trick or treat, smell my feet, give me lots of sweets to eat!!” he said holding a bag.

Polt stared at him and the bag in confusion and the Human sighed.

“Just give me some food or I egg your door”

Polt was horrified having come a race that lays eggs he quickly ran inside and grabbed some fruit from his bowl and put it in the bag.

“Fruit? Seriously, dick move” he said moving on and Polt saw that the entire corridor had been redecorated with odd symbols and all the Humans were walking around in strange attire. Normally he would scold them for not wearing their uniform but then he saw Clerk coming his way…or he thought it was.

He was wearing a large yellow wig and a short dress that glittered and his chest had two cone shapes pointing out.

“Captain Clerk?”

“No, I’m Madonna and I’m a virgin” he said with a straight face leaving Polt to just get back in his office and lock the door.

The planet Owep'nop was the capital of the Alliance and all their affairs, they were also technically the government of all the member races although they could not influence local matters of the different races. It was lead by a council that had one representative of each member race, the Human had no representative as they were the newest member and the others were still in two minds if they even wanted them there. The decision to allow them to act as soldiers was not a popular one but since their work on Remer some were seeing their potential.

Consul Jetya was an Elong and the elected leader of the Alliance was scrolling through the millions of reports he had to go through not really reading them, he often just handed them out among the council and let them do it while spent the day with his wife’s. His feathers had started to go black and fall out but his even though his body was ageing his mind had not started to go yet.

“Mr President!” his co Consul Kelp and also a Elong came ruining in clearly excited about something.

“If it’s another relief request add it to the list”

“No sir, Remer has been liberated”

Jetya shot him a look “What? That world was supposed to have been left to slow the Gal who ordered it be liberated?”

“Um….it was Admiral Polt’s fleet”

“Well , then the Benemar in his fleet are the be decorated for it, it’s not everyday we get a victory against the Gal”

“It wasn’t the Benemar sir”


“It was the Humans, Admiral Polt attacked the Gal upon the wishes of the Human soldiers under his command”

“Wait, the Humans asked to go into battle?”

“Yes and they won, the Benemar were on planet but had no significant impact on the battle” he said handing the Consul the pad.

Jetya read through it at the number so casualties.

“This can’t be right” Jetya said.

“I checked them, three times” Kelp replied showing he was dead serious.

“There were only a hundred thousands Human soldiers against millions of Gal and their casualty rate was less than 5%”

“And some of those were just injuries, they only suffered 2% fatal casualties”

Jetya stared at him “No, this can’t be right I refuse to believe this”

“Sir I can assure you, these reports are accurate and we are getting similar reports from the others fleets”

Jetya stared at him and did not blink as if his mind had simply shut down, it was a while before he spoke again.

“Get me all the information on Human anatomy you can find and anyone, not a Human who knows their inner workings to be here NOW!”

An hour later a Kelp returned with a Seran, a race of complete energy that existed as a sort of mist, their single solid part of their body was their huge eye that seemed to look in every direction at once.

“Consul this is…”

“My name is Aopdfjgokjfsdvnhklvsgnkuvnhaloikhjmgfuioafhpikshjsrlkjbnsjghwtre……but you can call me Tim”


“It’s what the Humans call me and I have come to like it”

“Okay….Tim tell me all you know about these Humans and their bodies, their strength and their weaknesses”

A holographic display appeared  in the centre of the room of a Human male and female performing various actions and movements.

“They don’t look like much” Kelp said.

“Indeed, I have only met a Human a few times and the reports we have on their capabilities do not seem to show in their anatomy” Jetya said.

“You may think so but to underestimate them would be your downfall” Tim replied “Have you heard of Vewlop?”

“No” both replied.

“It is because they invaded the Humans homeworld some centuries ago, they were undergoing one of their migrations and believed the Human could not put up a fight, they were wrong and the Vewlop are now extinct”

“Is this why your race pushed us to make contact?”

“I cannot speak for the my kind as a whole”

“That’s not a no” Kep said.

“So go on tell me what these Humans are like”

“As you see their outer appearance shows no special features but they perfectly efficient, every part of their body has it’s purpose, they only need two arms and legs and eyes. Their sense of balance is second to none”


“It is what is inside where they are truly fascinating”

The holographic display showed the Humans organs and bones.

“They have twice the muscle mass than the Benemar who were considered the strongest physically in the Alliance, until now. They can heal any wound at an astonishing rate, their bones are thicker and their eyesight twice that of even your race”

Kelp and Jetya looked at one another.

“There is also their chemicals within their bodies, should a threat appear their blood vessels flood with this chemical call ‘adrenaline’ which gives them extra strength and stamina so much so they can go days without rest in battle. Their brain power works 43% faster than even my race, by the time many would have only just noticed a threat they have seen it, analysed it’s threat level and began taking action against it. Their own stomachs are filled with chemicals to break down food that we can’t even identify them, they keep melting our beakers”

“So what about their weaknesses?” Jetya asked.

Tim floated there and the others were terrified he was going to say they had none.

“Well, they do have some but not many, they are immune to nearly all of the viral infections that plague the other races and most known munitions would not guarantee a kill as they have been known to continue to fight even after loosing an arm or leg. A sure way to kill them is to destroy or decapitate the head”

“What is the breeding rate of these things” Kelp asked.

“Their females can fall pregnant once every nine of their months, sometimes they birth more than one at a time”

“How long is that in standard Alliance time?”

“0.52 of a cycle”

“No wonder there are so many of them, before we know it we are going to be overrun by these things!” Kelp shouted.

“We have to find a way to contain them, you said they don’t get along with the Benemar?” Jetya asked.

“That’s an understatement” Kelp replied.

“Contact the Benemar high Chiefs, I need to speak to them, I don;t want us to defeat the Gal only to replace them with something worse”

Back on Bento Prime, the drums of war were sounding as they began to muster their forces.

Someone (Jared Kleinman x Reader)

TW: a lil bit of smut, angst, offensive humor, and swearing

Words: 2,428

Requested: yes! 


           Biology was a subject made by the devil. Learning about cells and other useless things was never the first thing on your mind. You wanted to be a writer, a poet, anything that didn’t relate to science. Sitting in your biology class made time go by at the pace of molasses. The class consisted of you, barely listening, scratching down lines of poems in the back of your notebook.

           There was only one kid in your class who liked the work. Jared fucking Kleinman. The kid was a dork. You could practically see the imprints of his computer screen monitor in his glasses. All he ever did was answer questions without trying. When he would complete his work, he bothered the rest of his friends with dark memes that he either made or found on the internet; you could never tell which one it was.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

rohans a bad person, theres no denying that. but that doesnt mean you cant acknowledge it and still like his character!! hes got his goodboy moments sometimes too

You Absolute Fool. You Come Into My House, Insult My Fav, Insist I Don’t Know How To Read Because Rohan Kishibe Is “A Bad Person, There’s No Denying That”? 

Please. “Rohan is a bad person” is shit-tier meta. 

You have awakened the beast. 


1. Rohan Kishibe’s only actual “bad thing he’s done” was try and kill Koichi, Josuke, and Okuyasu in his introductory chapter. Understandably, that’s not super great! But when you read further and learn about his character, you can kind of understand what was going through his head when he did that. Rohan has an incredible hyperfocusing issue. It can make him work on his comics for days without rest, it can make him search for a serial killer constantly without pause, it can make him aloof and blindsides him from other actual human beings. This is why he almost killed them in his first chapter – upon meeting another stand user for the first time ever (he only got his stand three months prior, according to DIU canon – and he’d never met anyone like him), he went super fucking overboard. After he gets forcefully removed from that hyperfocus, he never tries to attack them ever again. He doesn’t try and steal Koichi’s pages. In fact, after that first chapter, he doesn’t steal anyone’s pages. 

2. Rohan does not like Josuke in Diamond is Unbreakable canon. In fact, neither of them like each other. Rohan is a dick to Josuke, Josuke is a dick to Rohan. Rohan generally still sees himself as better than everyone else, but on the outside he is still cordial and polite – even respectful – to other people. Just not Josuke. Everyone in the fandom, however, seems to fucking think otherwise. Rohan only really treats Josuke like garbage, and to be honest, can you blame him? Josuke put him in the hospital for a month (it was a deserved punishment, but still) and burned his house down while trying to steal money from him. Rohan literally does not have any reason to be nice to Josuke. He is, however, respectful of Joseph, and the other members of Josuke’s family. He is not a dick to every person he meets. He may have an internal monologue of “I am better than everyone else,” but he doesn’t purposefully flaunt it in front of other people.

3. Does everyone just collectively forget that almost every jobro starts off trying to attack the protagonist? Speedwagon, Kakyoin and Polnareff, Okuyasu, Rohan, Yukako, Yuuya, almost every fucking character in part 4 honestly– like, “Uwaah!! Rohan attacked the main characters so he’s evil!!” is just grasping at low-hanging fruit. Try harder.

4. Rohan ends up caring about the Duwang Gang. He ends up as part of the Duwang Gang. I’m not making this shit up. Do you want proof? In Thus Spoke Kishibe Rohan and Rohan at the Louvre, there are instances where Rohan is eating or having tea with Josuke, Okuyasu, and Koichi. In the scene where they’re having tea, it’s at Rohan’s house – meaning that they’ve all become close enough that Rohan is fine with them there. He even ditches them to go to Paris basically halfway through a conversation (another example of that hyperfocusing I mentioned earlier), which means he trusts them enough to just… be alone in his house without him. Do you think Okuyasu, Koichi and Josuke would be close friends with a bad person? Do we all remember when they kinkshamed a man to death? 


(CONTEXT: He and the man he’s talking about were trying to save the lives of a huge crowd of people at a train station. Everyone else there was being controlled by these special bugs that live in cellphones. The other man did not survive, but he made sure that no one else was hurt that day. Rohan expressed genuine grief at not being able to help him.


(CONTEXT: The woman he’s carrying got a little too greedy when trying to bargain with forces she didn’t understand. Her fiancé and her mother reaped the consequences by getting in a fatal car crash. She fainted. The bird, which Rohan had saved earlier, was also a victim of those consequences. Rohan singlehandedly saved the woman, the woman’s family, and the bird.)


Hmm, wait, what’s that there? Let me get a close up:



“Sure, I’ll go illegal poaching with you because it sounds fun.” 

-That night- 


He then proceeds to save Tonio’s life, at great risk to his own.

I’m sure I could fine even more examples of Rohan being a genuinely good person, with more “goodboy” moments than bad, but I have stuff to do so I’ll stop here.


two, three, leave.

Originally posted by baekhyunstolemyeyeliner

o boy, get ready for some angst my dudes. and hey look at this, sehun is the first babe to get two full fics on my blog! hope you enjoy~

Pairing: Sehun x Reader

Genre / Rating: Angst / G

Word Count: 1.924k

Warnings: None 


Dating an idol wasn’t easy.

You knew it wouldn’t be from the beginning. All the stories and articles you’d heard and read about the subject beforehand were almost enough to scare you away. But it was Sehun who convinced you to stay.

He had been sweet and kind and grounding, all the good things a boyfriend should be. You talked often and laughed tons. He took you out when you were feeling fancy and stayed in with you when you felt down. Everything felt so right. You felt so happy.

Three dates turned into two months turned into a steady year of loving him. You’d dealt with your hardships well, so well that the worries you had beforehand were almost forgotten. But now, here you were, alone and shaking and anxious as hell. Two years. You’d almost been together for two whole years and that was exciting to you. You really wished that right now you were brainstorming anniversary gifts instead of ways to tell your boyfriend you weren’t happy.

Curling tighter into yourself on the couch, you thought through what was going on. This year had been a little shaky to say the least. This comeback seemed to be really hard on Sehun and the rest of EXO. You’d vowed to stand by him and do anything you could to make it easier for him, but it seemed the more devotion you gave to him, the less he had to give to you. You were proud of him, of course you were. You were happy for him, absolutely. But were you happy? Not really, no.

It was a gentle shift. Over the course of a few weeks, you stopped texting every day. His weekends were spent without you for the sake of his rest or his work, whatever was apparently more important than you that week. Your calls stopped going through and he stopped making them. You were nervous before you tried to contact him, always questioning if you were a bother, if this was a good time, if he even wanted to talk to you anymore. Then all of a sudden, three missed calls turned into two weeks not talking at all turned into one big fight last month.

You were confident then, so sure that you would be able to talk it out and things would go back to normal. Sehun would come back and start loving you like he used to. You would start smiling again. So you’d gone to visit him. You walked into SM, bento lunch in hand, ready to make things better. When you found Sehun, he asked you to wait until he was done (which turned out to be two hours later) without greeting you with any warmth, or at all in fact. You entertained yourself on your phone, holding your breath, trying not to cry in the corner of a practice room. When Sehun was finally done, he took his time packing up and ushered you into the empty practice room nextdoor.

“So what’s wrong?” Sehun said, leaning against the wall.

“Is that all you have to say?” You were incredulous.

“Yes?” He states, slightly unsure of what he’s missing.

“Why haven’t you been talking to me?”

“I’ve been busy, I thought you understood.”

You pause. “I do.”

“Well then what’s wrong?”

You take a deep breath, trying to ready yourself to speak but instead, you start crying. “What’s wrong, Sehun, is that I haven’t seen you in three weeks. What’s wrong is that I’m scared you hate me and never want to speak to me again because you don’t answer my texts or calls. What’s wrong is that you don’t seem to care. I love you Sehun, I promise that I do but I don’t think you love me anymore and that’s terrifying. I hate feeling anxious all the time and it needs to stop so if you don’t love me anymore, just say it so I can stop feeling this way all the time.”

You spend about a minute, trying to suppress your heavy sniffling, waiting for an answer. When you feel tentative arms around you, you’re back to crying, chest heaving, letting out everything you’ve been holding in.

You can’t remember too much after that, you’re pretty sure you cried yourself out. But you do remember waking up the next morning, pressed up to Sehun’s side, more rested than you had felt in the last four months. And for the next week, he was good. You were back to talking and you even managed to slip a date in somewhere. You were hopeful. But the week after, it started again. This time you weren’t confident. You were back to anxious and unsure.

You’d been talking to your friend about everything that happened and she had said that it was time to let him go. He obviously wasn’t putting in the effort to show you he cared, so why put up with him? It took you a bit to get used to the idea but it didn’t take longer than a week for you to realize you had to do it. Your friend had offered to let you crash at their place until you found somewhere new to live. You were thankful for their support.

After a whole day’s worth of working up all the courage you had, you texted Sehun. The message read ‘I’m moving out’ and as simple as it sounds, it took you hours to come up with it. You waited to see if he’d respond but after ten minutes, you gave up and started packing. You decided that for now, you were taking only the essentials. One suitcase and whatever you could fit in a backpack. With both bags all zipped up, you sat on your bed, waiting for your friend to come pick you up. Your phone vibrated, letting you know they were here. You heard the door open and you assumed it was your friend coming in to help you with your bag so it was quite a surprise when Sehun came barging into the room. There was a moment of intense eye contact before he finally spoke.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving.” You look away and shrug on the back pack

“You’re leaving?”

“Yes.” You pick up your suitcase and turn towards the door. “Move please.”


“Why not?”

“I won’t let you.”

“Again, why not?”

“Because I love you.”

You shake your head slowly and unsure. “Move please.”

“I do, you know I do!”

“No, Sehun. I don’t. Forgive me but you’ve been an awful boyfriend lately. I texted you I was leaving two hours ago and you’re only here now. When was the last time you answered one of my texts or calls? When was the last time we went on a date?” Your tone is hard and you avoid eye contact.

He stutters slightly. “I’ve been busy! I’m sorry, I know it’s been hard-”

“No you don’t.”

“What?” He’s taken aback.

“You don’t know it’s been hard. You’ve been content with ignoring me and assuming I’m okay. You haven’t asked me how I felt once in the past six months and I don’t think you care.

“Well, I- How do you feel…?”

You scoff. “Move.”

“But I can fix it!”

You huff and push past him with your hag, headed towards the front door. You can hear following behind you, calling your name. Shutting your eyes, you steel yourself before whirling around to face him.

“I’m sick and tired of you not being here for me, Sehun! I feel alone and sad and uncomfortable and anxious and like I’m not worth anything to you! And it’s not just right now, I’ve been feeling like this for six months, Sehun, can you imagine that? Can you fix that Sehun?” You can see him open his mouth to answer. “No. The answer is no, Sehun. That’s the worst part. You’ve done this for too long for it to be okay anymore. I tried to be here for you. I was okay with every missed date and unanswered text but I can’t be anymore. I tried to be okay with you not being here when I needed you because I understood that you were busy and that this is your life but I don’t want this to be mine. This can’t be my life because I can’t stand being alone all the time, feeling alone all the time. Don’t tell me you tried to be better because if this is what your better is, it’s pathetic. Sehun, I think we-”

“No. No, don’t say it. I won’t let you say it.” Sehun cut you off, eyes now glimmering with tears.

“Sehun. We can’t do this anymore. I’m not doing this anymore. I refuse.” Your voice lowers, reflecting the amount of energy you had left.

“No!” Sehun nearly shouted. He turned his back to you, covering his ears.

You pushed a puff of air from your chest designed to be a laugh but you lacked the emotion to make it sound like one. This was ridiculous. It was childish. And you weren’t going to put up with it any longer. Licking your lips, you whispered your final goodbye to the boy in front of you.

“Goodbye, Sehun.”

You hadn’t meant for your words to be so loud but any noise was startling against the stifling silence settled between you, including the catch in Sehun’s breathing. The boy turned around to face you once more and if you had been any ounce of the person you were a year ago, your heart would’ve seized at his expression. But you weren’t. The despair on his face mirrored the way you had been and were still feeling. You supposed it was mean but it was almost satisfying to know that he finally understood. He took two half steps in your direction and faltered. You adjust your grip on your bag and go to leave. You take one step before you feel two arms holding you back and it took three seconds for you to come to your senses and brush him off.

“Let go, Sehun.”

“I won’t.”


“Please. Please please please, (y/n). Please.”

His voice was thick with regret and you felt a tear hit your shoulder. It took all of your resolve not to crumble right then and there but you were stronger than that. You knew you were.

“Sehun.” Your voice was weaker now, heavy with tears. “You can’t fix this. You can’t make it better. All you can do is be sorry and let me go.”

You can feel Sehun sob against your back and for a moment, you cry together in the dark quiet of your apartment. Then, you pry his arms off and leave the room.

One night without Sehun turned into two weeks turned into three months. You found it funny how hard Sehun was trying to talk to you now that you were done talking to him. Your phone buzzes again, the second time this week already and you turn it over, not bothering to look at the number. You curl into yourself on your couch, calmly this time, warm and not yet happy, but working on it.

Some Like it Hot

Submitted by @aqua-harry! Thank you, love. x

It was hot. It was so hot, he would’ve welcomed death. It was the kind of hot that dripped down his back, stuck to his thighs, and seeped into his veins, making it impossible to remember a time when he wasn’t so goddamn hot.

He climbed up the stairs to his apartment on the fifteenth floor, dragging his feet up the steps, the weight of his legs too much to bear under the thick heat. With each conquered flight, he allowed himself a few seconds of respite while he pumped himself up to take on the rest of the stairs - one more flight to go.

When he makes it, he slumps against the doorframe and breathes heavily, pulling a heavy hand through his sweaty hair. He groans slightly, but then thinks against it, as complaining about the heat required more energy than he was willing to emit.

Unlocking the door, he drops his belongings at his feet, whining at how hot his fifteenth-floor, one-bedroom loft is. Moving to New York City had never been in the plans, but when the opportunity to establish a homebase for his own record label came about, he knew he’d be stupid to pass it up. He’d always loved New York, always inspired by the industrial feel, never lonely in the city that never sleeps. He’d gotten used to the hustle and bustle of the city, and he enjoyed watching the seasons change throughout the year. He figured nothing could get much hotter than Los Angeles in July, but he didn’t account for what the center of New York City had to offer. At least LA had a breeze - at least LA had open spaces - at least LA had swimming pools. The heat in New York City nearly made him feel trapped, unable to escape the skyscrapers and concrete, closed in on all four sides.

He’d always liked the heat. It meant that he could cool off in a large body of water, the relief of silky waves something to write home about during the hot summer months. He’d felt at home in the water, never fearful of the ocean or diving into the deep end of a pool. He relished in how it made him feel weightless, how the water calmed his nerves and relaxed every muscle in his body. He’d always loved the heat, but he’d never experienced this. A heat that he couldn’t escape, a heat that he couldn’t find solace from.

He slowly makes his way to the windows - large, streak-free glass rectangles - and opens them up. The relief is minimal, but at least it provided a slight breeze that provided a relief lasting all of two seconds. Yellow taxi cabs honk below him, the flow of traffic at the intersection outside of his building coming to a halt. Without the traffic lights working, everyone forgot how to drive. He rests the heels of his hand against the windowsill, looking down on the street while his forearms glisten with sweat in the sun. He shakes his head knowingly and wonders if he had ever seen a more chaotic sight. He’d performed for screaming fans in stadiums that sat a hundred thousand people, but it was an experience to see the entirety of New York City shut down. The last city-wide power outage had been in 2003, but back then, he was still a young boy in Holmes Chapel, never thinking that he’d find himself here, with his own apartment worlds away from the small town he loved so much.

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fandomstrash9-deactivated201708  asked:

What if mama kouyou secretly ships soukoku and whenever tachihara tries to make a move on chuuya kouyou just stands behind the poor guy whilst saying,"forgive me child but your efforts are useless because chuuya is already taken."(random thoughts XD)

- Except Kouyou is probably is a scheming fox lady so she probably knows threatening Tachihara is not gonna bring her idiot of an OTP back together.

- So she lets Tachihara does what he does best (”Hi Chuuya-san would you like to go on a da- I mean platonic hang out with me this weekend”) but she snaps a bunch of pictures everytime Chuuya smiles at Tachihara.

- And then she sends them all to Dazai with a really eloquent caption that basically translate to “Lmao look how happy your ex-partner is isn’t he cute he seems to move on already but you wouldn’t care would you he’s your ex (-partner) after all”.

- From 500 miles away, Fukuzawa sneezes and asks Kunikida if the heater in the office is broken again because the room’s temperature seems to suddenly drop can they just budget a new heater for the kittens.

- Kunikida, knowing the actual cause (bless him) and doesn’t want to spend money on a new heater, throws Dazai out of the room and it’s suddenly warm again.

- “Ane-san, I already said I didn’t care about him, stop sending me pictures of the hat rack” Says Dazai, in a cheerful voice, adding new cracks to his cheap ass phone for the 20th time that month.

- “Sure, I’ll go out with you (to the platonic hang out this weekend)” Chuuya’s voice comes from the other lines, because Kouyou might or might not be holding a bug right next to her phone instead of answering. Ane-san that’s just shady stop it.

- That day Atsushi reports that he has never seen Dazai-san run so fast in his entire life (”Are they having a sales on chazuke is that why he was running”) and Akutagawa reports that Chuuya-san is not available for missions for the next 3 days due to hip problems.  

[ Tom Hiddleston - Extended imagine ]“Cigarettes and Divorce Forms”.

Based on: Imagine: Filing for divorce from Tom, and him signing the papers even though he still loves you, because he knows you aren’t happy with him and all he wants is to see you smile even if its not him who can make it happen anymore.

Written by: A.Wölf.


Tom stared at the clock before lighting his 5th cigarette in the last 67 minutes. The ticking noise seemed to echo in the room.

The lawyer adjusted his cufflinks for the 3rd time and took a deep breath glancing at his impatient client with a worried look.

“How much longer are you going to wait, Mr.Hiddleston?”

Tom glared at him with the cigarette burning between his fingers.

“She’ll be here”, he murmured clenching his jaw.

“It’s been-”

“I’m sorry”, Tom cut him off, “Am I not paying you enough, mate? Because you sure as hell know how to charge”.

The lawyer shifted in his seat awkwardly and interlaced his fingers before him with a softer expression, understanding his client’s bad mood.

Well, what I mean is… that maybe this is a good thing. You know… maybe she doesn’t want the divorce after all. Many people avoid these things because they don’t really want to get divorced”, he stammered.

Tom narrowed his eyes and cocked his head.

“Oh believe me. She wants it”, he said holding smoke in his mouth.

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“why do people call me dumb”

“From my earliest years, the first thing that I saw was suffering. And if I couldn’t rebel when I was a child, it was only because I was an unaware being then. But the sorrows of my grandparents and parents were recorded in my memory during those years of unawareness. How many times did I see our mother cry because she couldn’t give us the bread that we asked for! And yet our father worked without resting for a minute. Why couldn’t we eat the bread that we needed if our father worked so hard? That was the first question whose answer I found in social injustice. And, since that same injustice exists today, thirty years later, I don’t see why, now that I’m conscious of this, that I should stop fighting to abolish it.”
— Buenaventura Durruti

DAY 3485

ONO, rira                Oct 11,  2017                Wed 10:59 pm local time 

Birthday - EF Nidhi Gaur       Thu, October 12 .. our wishes go out to Nidhi and our love abounds .. have a splendid year and years ahead .. love from the Ef ..

October 11 .. for years and years this date has remained with me at endless moments .. its description its presence its significance, valued and absorbed through 75  years of existence, brought great expectation and prize .. as the young we waited for the moment to arrive to wear those newly stitched clothing, that special attention, the special food and by the end of the day that party where the birthday boy would walk up to his invited guests and ask :

“what present have you brought for me ..?”

It was the ultimate innocence of those childhood years ..

After 75 years, you run away from it all .. there is apprehension and embarrassment of celebration .. of what expression to be worn and where .. to what must there be celebration of gift .. and the list of guests to be in proper shades of etiquette .. the care and hospitality, the personal touch of host formality, the …

Many objects and lists and meetings later .. it merely succumbs to the ultimate argument .. all this for getting a year closer to the final closure .. !!

And today as I sit by myself in elated company of the near and the dear .. listen and read and get enveloped by the reams of praise and effects that my presence has supposedly created .. there is fear ..

A fear of losing myself ..

When I read and listen and see .. the accolades disturb me .. the analysis frightens me .. you mean that is what I meant to all that have spoken .. you mean that is how I behave in company and without .. you mean that is what is going on in the minds of those that work with me or around me ..

DAMN .. that is ridiculous .. for in one fell stroke an entire personal property and persona, has been evacuated from its moorings and now there is no vacant slot to bind the ropes again to this rather large vessel created by all of them that have come aboard ..  for now when I behave I am justified in thinking, that so and so attitude is coming alive and that the other kind of bearing is under some pressure of kind and matter ..

It has all been played out by them that have spoken and spent time with and around me .. and I am distraught .. I will never be able to be ‘me’ again ..

So does it really matter, or do we have an opportunity here to defeat what has been observed by the one around .. no buddy you have it all wrong .. I am far removed from what has been observed by people who work with me .. there description caters to what they feel and describe .. it cannot surely be what the intent of the main is .. can it .. .. it could all have been a facade, played out to perfection .. nothing that was recorded or noticed by the other was even remotely correct .. 

Yes that could be one way of slipping away from the situation .. but then .. if that is the fear .. there has to be an antidote for its reversal .. and the reversal is to be what one is and let the others be of test to find that whatever they had imagined or paid great attention to and sealed the observation in the mightiest of non combustible products, is in fact the biggest fraud committed .. the reality is something else .. unknown unseen and unheard .. that would surely throw everyone in a tizzy .. 

I am in some conciliation .. I am still the self I was and am .. what others may have thought seen or believed is really their issue, not mine .. I shall still have the liberty to my own behaviour, without those elastic fasteners, that were designed to pull things together .. to allow it the flexibility of freedom, yet pulled back with some dexterity, when matters went out of control ..

I do not know if the Ef have come on the same page as me .. but if you have not then it shall require another many hours of deep writing to pass the content on to the others ..

Saved .. saved by the bell  .. i can expect to rest well and be at work without any apprehensive baggage ..

A synopsis :

when I shall perform , what shall ring in my head shall be the observations of the many that have dissected my work and will now be in the know .. so do I change because they are seen known and observed observations ..or ..

Do I not worry about what they feel or experience and judge the work with my own ability and craft - if I possess any - or do I become its conscious weather beaten object of desire, once upon a time and live and survive on its existing merit .. what .. ?

I do have the answer .. and the answer .. well that shall come after the break ..

एक छोटा सा break ले लेते हैं देवियों और सज्जनो , और break के बाद आ करके game को आगे बढ़ाते हैं  ।। आप कहीं जायिएगा नहीं ! बस यूँ गए और यूँ आए ।।


अमिताभ बच्चन - Amitabh Bachchan 

Miya Ivy

Part one

A/N: I really feel like I suck at writing recently! :D I try not to compare myself with other writers because everyone works different but well it’s hard. I think this is one of the side effects if you have not English as your first language! Anyway, hope you enjoy this! (Picture is not mine)

“She’s almost there, love! I need just a few more pushes!” The lovely midwife called, encouraging the young woman lying in front of her who had her legs spread wide open. (Y/N) had been in the process of delivering their second child to the world and to be honest she was nearly at the verge of giving up. A wave of immense pain consumed her whole body, giving her the feeling of being ripped apart in two halves. It was the most aching birth that she ever had to endure.

Her back was pressed against her husband’s chest who sat right behind her. One hand ran through her now wet and sweaty hair while his other hand was intertwined with hers to give her the opportunity to squeeze it whenever she was in pain. His own eyes swam in salty tears and sweet words of encouragement left his mouth. Knowing that his wife was going through so much pain, more than she could ever handle and he was just sitting there with desperation and worry, made him feel helpless. All he wanted to do was taking the pain away from her but he knew he couldn’t.

He was concerned about her health because there had been a few moments where (Y/N) struggled with her breathing. Her entire face took a shade of red whenever she was ordered to push and Alex had to remind her more than once to breathe.

“I-I can’t anymore!” (Y/N) cried, wishing with her entire heart that it would be over soon. Her body was almost drained out of power and she had no more strength to keep pushing.

Alex peppered her temple with kisses, telling her that she was doing great and that she needed to hold on. He wiped away the tears that escaped from her eyes with his thump.

“A little bit more, darling and we’re going to hold our baby in our arms.” He sweetly spoke to her. “I know she’s going to look so much like you, like her beautiful mother. She will have your eyes, your nose, your lips, and your incredible personality. She will be just like the woman her father loves so much. We’re almost there, love. You can do this! I believe in you. You’re a strong, my love.”

Another contraction hit (Y/N) and with a loud scream she gave a next push.

“The head is out!” The midwife called with excitement. “You’re doing great, love! Come on give me a one last push.”

And (Y/N) gathered all her strength, all the power that was left in her and pushed and pushed and pushed until the room was filled with a baby’s cry. She rested her back again on Alex’ chest, exhaustion and tiredness overwhelmed her.  This time tears of relief ran down her cheeks as the midwife wrapped the newborn in a towel and laid it on her chest.

“There we go. A healthy baby girl.”

“Jesus Christ, she’s so tiny.” Alex breathed out, looking at his baby in awe. His mind couldn’t really process that she was finally there. He was completely embraced with shock, but also happiness. He carefully stroked the tiny cheek of the infant, feeling its softness consuming him. He couldn’t put into words how he felt right now. He was utterly proud of his wife.

While the baby was cleaned and put into some baby clothes, Alex helped his wife to get cleaned up while uncountable words of praise left his mouth. (Y/N) had made him a father for a second time and he was beyond grateful for this gift. He loved her more than his life but right now he shared more love and more passion for this woman than he could ever express. She gave him two precious children, something he was very grateful for. He would spend his entire life to make it up to her. Every pain, every scream, every tear would be replaced by affectionate actions of pure love.

(Y/N) placed the newborn in her arms and weighted her back and forth. Alex was beside her with a wide smile on his lips. His shining green eyes could have brightened the whole world in no time.

“Miya Ivy, welcome to the world, little baby girl.” He greeted his new love. He promised he would do anything to protect her and her older brother Luke. His family meant so much to him, without them he would be a no one. He was so grateful of getting the privilege of being a father. With Alex by their side, they wouldn’t be alone in this world, he would make sure that they got everything they needed. He would work hard for them so he could fulfill every wish they had.

“She’s so beautiful.” (Y/N) sighed. “I really don’t know what to say.”

“She’s a pretty little one, eh? Just like her mummy.” He kissed his wife softly, expressing his emotions that flooded through him with a single kiss.


It was in the middle of the night as Alex stormed out of his bed when he heard his baby girl crying. When it came to Miya, he had a very good hearing. Whenever she cried because she needed something, Alex was not too far away. He would cradle her in his arms and would make sure that she felt better. It would be an understatement to say that he was not protective over her. No, he was very over protective. More often than once he caught himself getting jealous once somebody who was not him or his wife held her. They received many visits of family and friends and honestly, Alex couldn’t wait them to disappear so he could spend some time with his little girl again. Every minute was precious and important with him. One day his baby girl would grow to a wonderful and pretty young woman and times like these would be over.

He was afraid and not ready for this. He wanted to savor every second with his children.

“Hey, baby girl.” He cooed as he arrived to the nursery, taking her out of her crib. They had placed a rocking chair right next to the crib and Alex sat onto it carefully with his baby in his arms.

“Don’t cry, darling. Daddy is here. You don’t have to be afraid anymore. What’s the matter, huh?”

Alex started to hum a lullaby, which had become one of Miya’s favorite. She calmed down immediately whenever he sung that to her. Besides Alex had a very good voice, that also soothed and relaxed his wife when she was stressed out.

“I really hope you’re not hungry yet because I can’t bring myself to wake up your mummy.” He laughed slightly. (Y/N) had already spent many nights without rest and sleep because Alex had to work the next day. But he wanted to support her as much as he could. When he was out of the house, earning money for the family, (Y/N) was required to take care after two little children. Luke could be a hard deal sometimes and (Y/N) needed all her patience and strength. And now with Miya around it would be harder for her. That’s why Alex made sure that his mother was at least there when he couldn’t.

“You’re daddy’s girl, aren’t you? Daddy loves you so much, princess. And you know what? We will have so much fun together. You and me and Luke and mummy. I will buy you as much as dolls as you want, as much as toys as you want because daddy wants you to be happy, princess. Whatever that is what you wish you will have it, I promise. But just for your information, no boys until you’re not out of college, yes? Daddy wants to be the only one for his baby girl. I want to be your hero, darling.”

“She will always look up to you.” The sweet sound of his wife’s voice startled him. (Y/N) leaned against the doorway with crossed arms, watching her husband interacting with their daughter.

“Why are you up, darling?” Alex asked. “Go back to sleep. You need it.”

(Y/N) entered the nursery. “I woke up because a certain someone was missing. You know I cannot sleep without you. The bed is cold without your warmth.” She bent down to kiss his forehead. Alex closed his eyes at the tingly sensation that her kiss had left on his skin.

“She’s lucky to have someone like you as her daddy.” (Y/N) said. “She doesn’t know right know but she’ll figure it out when she’s older. But we can’t keep her forever.” She referred to what he had told Miya before (Y/N) interrupted the father-daughter moment.

“I don’t want her to grow up, neither Luke.” Alex mumbled truthfully. When he just thought about how fast three years have passed since Luke was born, he couldn’t even imagine how it would be the same with Miya Ivy.

“Me too, love. But let’s not think about it for now, okay? Whatever happens, she’ll always be our little girl, the same goes for Luke as well.”

(Y/N) made sure to treat her children all equally. She didn’t want any of them to feel less valuable. Especially Luke shouldn’t feel this way because Miya was now around. The little boy often asked his parents if they still loved him because he noticed that his parents had not much time for him anymore like they used to. Alex made sure to explain while certain things had changed, but they would still love him so much.

The young couple gazed at the infant, watching her chest lifting and falling. Miya slept so peacefully with soft snores escaping her little mouth and Alex couldn’t dare to place her into her crib again.

“I’ll go ahead.” (Y/N) informed him. “Don’t be too late, okay? I already miss you in bed.”

“I won’t.” He promised.

After spending a few more minutes with his baby girl, carefully placed her into her crib again, covering her tightly with her blanket so she wouldn’t catch a cold. Giving her a kiss on her head, he whispered “Goodnight angel. Sleep well.”