smashing party

I screwed up my first year of high school. To some people, it doesn’t look like it. But with a combination of mental illness, not amazing friends and a lack of discipline, I’m glad I barely remember that. But that screw up of a year taught me more than any high school teacher could. Now let me share these things with you. Just a warning, this will most likely be a chaotic rambling of everything in my head.

Mental illness is a legitimate thing do not accuse someone of lying about their mental illness. Don’t do it. You can blame a lot of things on how you were young and stupid, but the question is, are you still being what you call ‘young and stupid’? Now is that a good thing or a bad thing? Learn to laugh at yourself. You do that by putting yourself in weird situations. Walking around the city in a onesie and bright pink vans was a great time. It made me more comfortable in my skin. Own yourself. Simplicity is beautiful. Trust me. You don’t need to get smashed at a party when you’re underage to have fun, trust me on this, I’ve seen way too many incredible people screw up such a great part of their lives by getting smashed at parties and doing drugs when they’re barely 13. Don’t. Beauty isn’t everything, you’ve got a brain. Use it. Such a unique mind shouldn’t go to waste due to societal expectations. You’ve got a heart that’ll melt even the coldest of minds. Find your escape. Books, music, painting, whatever. The world can be overbearing, don’t let it get to you.

Put your all into everything. Don’t half arse anything. If you think you’ve done enough, do it three more times. Check out three more websites. Go through your flashcards three more times. Three is a magical number. What do you enjoy? Okay good, do it often. Who cares if you can’t exactly put it on your resume. Sexuality is a thing, respect other people’s and don’t be ashamed of yours. Do things, but for the right reason. Don’t do a certain co curricular only because it’ll look good on your resume, do it because you enjoy it. Don’t stop doing something because you think other people are better than you. Maybe they are, but that doesn’t mean you can’t improve.

You’re going to change. You’ll never be the same person again. And that’s not a bad thing. But always remember, your mind is a compass pointing you to your final destination. And your final destination is the place where you draw your final breath. And you can ignore it all you want, but you’re going to die at some point. So stop wasting today being someone who you don’t want to be or not growing into the person you want to be, because life is dynamic. To the point where it will end but we have no idea when.

—  I found this in notes, I wrote this a year ago and it still stands.
4

Welcome to Kappa Kappa (originally Kappa Kappa Beta but that last part fell off), Lake Lilac University’s first and only co-ed fraternity!

I’m literal trash and also a community college student who still lives with their parents so I’LL TRY NOT TO MESS THIS UP:

Max-Everyone is sure he should have graduated by now, but he’s been in the dorm for so long and still has his major as “undeclared”. No one knows if he actually goes to LLU or not, he never attends class. He’s also somehow behind every out-of-control party or riot that happens on campus or in the dorm, or least DJing. Has been living in Kappa Kappa because it’s the cheapest but he hates everyone, especially the RAs. Nikki did his tattoo. 

Neil-STEM Major. Actually does his work and attends classes and was dead-set on not becoming a party kid, but is always the first one to get absolutely smashed at every party. Max’s roommate. 

Nikki-No one knows what her major is. Like Max, no one is entirely sure if she actually goes to LLU, but everyone seems to have a class with her. Often climbs in through peoples’ windows because she got “locked out again”, although no one actually knows which room is hers or if she actually lives in the dorm. Got kicked out of Gamma Lambda Sigma (AKA college Flower Scouts idk man) for being the wild child she is. Has been stopped by security/police multiple times because they all keep thinking she’s on drugs. Nah, it’s just Nikki. Good thing LLU has a rugby team (She’s really good but no one is sure if she actually plays for points or for the sake of beating people up).

i made a dnd character.
Not at all Mario Mario. This Maryio has mustache and hair matchin in colour and NO SHIRT!!! totally new character.  
(i was watching odyssey and he’s just so small compared to humans but nobody poitns it out so..)

anonymous asked:

your writing is so beautiful!! if you have the time, would you maybe write something about pro!neil getting injured and physical therapist!andrew?

(sends a prayer and a kiss to the writer of this ask like 8 months ago, love you, here you go)

He hears raised voices jerking their way from the front desk down the hall to his office, a pin-sharp, balloon-popping fight. He sets his coffee down and waits for the overlapping voices to make sense, or for the dull receptionist to strip the action and hand Andrew boring, defused parts.

“I’ve run on worse, Kevin, you know I can still play, I can play better than those delicate, one-hit-and-they’re-down, red card-chasing ungracious bastards—“

“I don’t care. I don’t care if you can run on it, I care if you can destroy on it. If you think your superiority complex and masochistic streak mean anything to me you’re wrong. I need you in peak condition or I don’t need you.”

“This is temporary,” the first voice grits. “I don’t need a glorified massage therapist to show me how to stretch. The only thing that’ll make me feel better is Moriyama’s throat under my heel.”

Something hisses like water beading in a hot pan, and then, “we’ll talk later. You have an appointment.” There’s a burble of complaint and a thud, and then Kevin Day waltzes into his office, diplomatic smile singed dark with rage. His arm is outstretched behind him, and a second later he yanks another person in beside him by the collar.

Neil Josten, if Andrew’s schedule and his limited attention to the sports network are aligned. He looks sick and contrary, flushed high in the apples of his cheeks from arguing, hair wild, leg in a brace from mid-thigh to ankle.

“Here for your massage therapy?” Andrew drawls. Neil bares his teeth, Kevin drops the now-warped collar of his shirt.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with him,” Kevin says, simperingly apologetic. When he doesn’t get a swoon or a protest or anything at all from Andrew, the set of his jaw changes. “He doesn’t like doctors.”

“He’s not a doctor,” Neil says disdainfully, at the same time that Andrew says,

“He can’t run.”

“Oh, I can,” Neil says. “And I can punch too.”

Kevin sighs. Andrew sips his coffee, a long pull, and reaches for a blank chart.

“Do you typically threaten the people providing you with a service?”

“What, are you trying to be a psychologist too? Cover as many pseudo-sciences as possible?”

“I thought I was responding to a challenge,” Andrew replies. “But I’m not surprised that you start a fight and then change the subject. That’s what exy players do, right?”

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