Hey everyone! So, I know finals week is nearing the most of us and I, for one, try to seek out the best study habits and routines during this stressful time. So, I thought, I want to help my followers get the most out of finals season. I know it could get distracting because the Christmas season is upon us, but hold on. You have made it this far and you are too good to give up now.
1. Eat a Healthy Breakfast. A healthy breakfast will help you not stay hungry throughout the day. If you have a morning class, the worst thing for you to do is to do a test on an empty stomach.
2. Exercise. This may sound like a cliché, but exercise will help you relieve stress during this finals season. I personally try to exercise thirty minutes a day on an indoor bicycle. But there are all kinds of exercises that a person can do. Take a walk for twenty minutes, go to the gym with a friend. Keeping active will keep your mind sharp because you are taking time out of your day to release those endorphins.
3. Get Plenty of Sleep. I know this sounds like another cliché, but sleep rejuvenates your mind. Sleep also helps you reorganize information that you have stored in your mind. Many would recommend 7-8 hours of sleep. I know many of us work part-time, or full-time, even. Do your best when it comes to sleep.
4. Be Prepared. Follow your instructor’s guidelines, what sort of test your test will be, what your professor is looking for in your papers, how much time you will be given. Make sure you have all your proper materials, Scantrons, pencils, pens, bluebooks, paper, etc. The worst thing to do is to not be prepared.
5. Do Everything in Advance. Do not wait until the last minute.
6. Chew Gum While Studying.I cannot do this because I currently wear braces, but studies show that if you chew one flavor of gum while studying and chew a piece of gum with the same flavor during the exam, then you may recall the items on your study materials and jot them down on paper.
7. Essays Are Not Your Enemy. Contrary to what you may think, essays are the chance for you to express everything you know. Try to be as thorough as you can for essays, but these questions/prompts are to help you show to your teacher/professor your brainpower.
8. Your Memory Is a Tool. Use It. I have gotten to the point of my education where memorizing long pieces of information is a second nature to me. Use flashcards, quizlet.com, or any memory tools that will help.
9. Study with a Friend. If you and a friend are in the same class together, then it may be to your benefit to quiz each other, seek help from one another, do everything you can prior to your exam.
10. Take Breaks. Take a break occasionally. Hang out with friends, watch a movie, watch a favorite show, draw, exercise, dance, listen to Taylor Swift’s new album, reputation, eat healthy foods, like fruit, granola, breakfast bars, etc. Do something that you enjoy and that is productive.
11. Give It Your All. This is your chance to show your professor that you know this material. Do not be afraid to go walk out after you finish that exam feeling like a badass.
12. Be Creative. Everyone has their own method of studying, style of writing. A person can use a variety of methods of studying, flashcards, handmade study guides, word associations, etc.
13. Do Not be Late. No “buts.”
Finals can be stressful. But there are many things that a person can do to prepare. These are just a few suggestions that I would have to everyone. This list is not conclusive. Many items are based on my own personal experience.
DON’T GIVE UP. YOU WILL GET THROUGH THIS. DO YOUR BEST.
Happy Studying and May the Curve Be Ever in Your Favor!
an empty stomach feels so light and clean and pure
even if you eat, if it’s small meals and snacks that aren’t high in calories, the stomach rumbling that inevitably comes a few hours later reminds you how good it feels to not be full and weighed down, how strong you are for not shoveling food in piece after piece
A seven-month-old baby died weighing just 9lbs after his parents fed him an alternative gluten-free, lactose-free diet, a court has heard.
The mother and father, who ran a natural food store in the town of Beveren in Belgium, insisted on putting their son Lucas on an alternative diet that included quinoa milk, according to local media. Doctors warn that such a diet is generally unsuitable for such young children.
His diet led to him being less than half the expected weight for a boy his age, weighing 9.47lbs — just over the average weight for a newborn baby — before he died on 6 June 2014. Despite the baby gasping for air in the days leading to his death, the court heard that his parents never thought to seek medical attention. An autopsy showed he was dehydrated and his stomach was completely empty. (Source)
It all started when she dozed off in her College Algebra class. She hadn’t been getting a decent night’s sleep since the fiasco with the Demodogs and Will Byers. She had gotten wrapped up in the situation since the group of tweens—and Steve—asked for her help. They trusted Steve with their lives, but they also trusted Y/n and she was perhaps more than willing to help. She loved the kids, so she dropped everything to help save their friend.
When Jungkook first came to room with you, you were less than ecstatic about it. You had only ever roomed with one other person before at the start of your freshman year of college, but you quickly got fed up with it. Not that your roommate was bad or anything. In fact, if you were being fair, you’d admit that she was a sweetheart. But you are an only child, and you were never used to sharing anything with anyone, and despite what everyone said about the joys of having siblings, you simply weren’t interested. You have none and that’s the way you liked it.
Tell that to your parents though. They were convinced that you needed the company after years of keeping mostly to yourself unless you had to, with the exception of a couple of close friends. They thought that if you keep at it, you’re going to turn insane from being in your head too much. Where they got that shit piece of pseudo-psychology you don’t know but it had enough hold on their minds to make them force you to get a room in the college dorms -yuck- and live with a stranger for an entire month.
Or it would’ve been a month anyway if you hadn’t made that poor girl’s life a living hell so much so that by the end of the third week, she was running away from your shared dorm room like the devil himself was behind her.
The series of students who came and went through your dorm didn’t last long enough to qualify as roommates. Your record was six hours, that’s how long it took to send one dude,-Hoseok, you’ll never forget the name- running for his life. It’s a shame too, he was cute, and you had to forever ruin your chances with him. But, oh well, there are much more important things in life, like having a bathroom all to yourself.
Soon enough, your college caught on to your reign of terror and they, not so kindly, asked you to vacate the premises and restore the harmony to the student body. Your parents were forced to rent an apartment for you, seeing as you weren’t allowed in the dorms anymore and they lived too far away for you to stay with them. Yeah, they could’ve withheld their money from you and taught you an important lesson about the consequences of being such a spoiled child but they loved you too much to do that. They’ve never been able to deal any real punishment to their baby girl, and that’s probably how you turned out to be so headstrong.
Little did you know, however, that your comeuppance was coming for you. It took three years, three long years where you enjoyed your solitude to the max, but as your fourth and final year came around, instead of the peaceful climax you were counting on it to be, it turned into a shitshow of the highest degree with the arrival of a certain bunny-toothed brat.
Jungkook is the son of your family’s next door neighbours. But other than the daily ‘Good mornings’ and the occasional dinner invitation, your families weren’t really close, and the only contact you had with their shy son was that one year you tutored him in math. To be sure, you were shit at math but that didn’t stop you from attempting to make some money off the kid.
You see, Jungkook had a painfully obvious puppy crush on you, and even though you didn’t teach him shit, and what you did teach him was mindbogglingly wrong, he still never spoke a word of it to his parents, studying on his own and getting good marks just so he’d keep seeing you.
To say that you were a bitch to him would be an understatement. You’d frequently invite your boyfriends over, taking advantage of the fact that his parents were never around because of their jobs, and using his place to hook up with them, knowing Jungkook would never tell on you. You did not care or even notice much that you were breaking the boy’s heart.
Eventually, though, he got sick of your shit and asked you to stop coming over. But he still didn’t tell either of your parents, ever the sweet kid. You didn’t hear or see much of him after that, and you suspect that was intentionally his doing, until now.
As if the universe was punishing you for all your sins against the boy, it made him appear again in your life, but this time you were the one who was going to suffer.
On the last day of your summer break, your mum dropped the bomb on you, informing you that your old pupil was to shack up with you this year, and no amount of whining or begging or scheming was going to get you out of it. She gave you an ultimatum: either you let him room with you and look after him, or she stops giving you money and leaves your spoiled ass out in the cold to fend for yourself. Any funny business from you and you’re done.
You were in denial at first, convincing yourself that it couldn’t possibly be that bad. From what you remembered of Jungkook, he was a shy kid who did anything humanly possible to please you. You were sure that his crush must be long gone by now but he would still be the timid boy you remembered. Right?
↳A/N: this isn’t one of my best works since I’ve had major writers block and had to force myself to write it, but I hope it can suffice and provide and explanation for my absence. Also not proofread since it’s 6 am in Korea rn lmao
The leaves rustled above, sky painted colors of deep amber and dandelion as it bled into warm blends of indigo and onyx; decorated with splatters of pale yellow and white as the moon rose to its highest point in the sky. The sound of wet, soppy leaves turning to mush and sinking into the thick, goopy mud beneath your feet danced in the quiet woodland—the snapping of twigs and rustling of bushes sounded in the night air as the tiny mammals that resided scurried away with each sloppy step you took.
It was quiet, thick stillness of the clear night air hanging heavily and the dim light provided by the paleness of the moon and twinkle of the splattered stars about in which hung high above the trees and foreground only lit up so much of the path ahead of you—your steps uncalculated and unsure as you ran deeper into the dark forest.
You couldn’t remember how the first few steps in the stygian, ominous forest clearing had turned into many and your lungs burned with each staggering intake of breath you took of the cold, winter night air; your pace faltering only slightly as you lost your footing on one of the many thick tree roots that dug deep into the wet ground before you quickly recovered your momentum—the image of the gaudy and murderous vermillion tinted eyes and bared teeth dripping with saliva reminded you of the sole purpose perspiration and rain water soddened your clothing and you ran as if your life depended on it because, well, it did.
As quickly as you recovered, the tears that clouded your vision proved themselves inefficacious towards the screaming voice in your head that pleaded for your sore and jaded muscles to “Run! Run!” as the laces of your shoes came undone and got snagged on one of the many godforsaken twigs that lined the forest floor. A bloodcurdling scream ripped from your raw throat as you tumbled down the rugged and wet hillock, rocks and branches scratching at your exposed flesh and painting lines of brown, black, red and mixtures of everything in between.
Your chested heaved laboriously as you felt your body grow limp at the foot of the hill, fear pumped through your veins so hard you swore you could taste it on the tip of your tongue; adrenaline and pure willpower overtaking your senses completely as you tried to stop the world from spinning around you. Your hair fell in front of your eyes, drenched from the mud and rainwater that stuck to it; blood seeped from a cut on your cheek as it mingled with the free-falling tears and tainted the liquid a faded pink color. You could taste the pungent mixture of saltiness and iron as it ran past your lips and settled on your tongue.
A deep and imperil growl made your blood grow cold from fright and your body go rigid, the sound of heavy steps crunching fallen leaves made your eyes slowly drift to the sight of large, muddied dark paws no farther than a few inches away from your face. Wrecked sobs fell out of your mouth as you felt drips of drool land on your face and hair—bared canines came in your peripheral, bright crimson eyes felt as if you were looking straight into the eyes of the devil himself and it’s hot breaths fanning your face. You tried desperately to crawl away from the darkened beast, though choked out sobs and hitching breaths were the only thing you could muster as you pleaded, prayed, and begged to a god that you knew didn’t exist.
“P-please.” You wretched out as if it could understand your beseeches; blood, sweat, and tears mixing together underneath the pelting rain droplets and entering your mouth through quivering lips. “Please don’t kill me.”
Draco didn’t have to turn to know the whispered voice belonged to Potter. It was always Potter.
“Yes, what a surprise we’re both at an event our whole division was invited to,” Draco responded as drily as he could manage. He was not doing this again. Not tonight. Not here.
“Can I get you another drink?” Potter asked with an irritatingly charming smile as he eyed Draco’s half-finished glass of champagne.
Draco lifted the glass to his lips and downed the rest, ignoring the sting of the bubbles at his throat. He shoved the empty glass in Potter’s hands, careful not to make actual contact. “No.”
Potter’s smile dropped. Thankfully - it wasn’t helping Draco’s resolve. “Are you in a mood?”
Draco’s fists clenched stiffly at his side. If he were still holding the glass, he might have broken it. “Great detective work. Perhaps you should have become an Auror after all.
“You are in a mood.”
“Perhaps I just don’t need another drink,” Draco retorted in the snottiest voice he could manage. If he was in a mood, it was Potter’s fault anyway.
“Did something happen?”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Things tend to constantly happen, Potter. It’s called the progression of time.”
“Did I do something?” Potter asked. Like he didn’t know.
Draco scanned the room as an excuse not to meet Potter’s eye. “Well, I certainly hope so. You were on duty this morning. If you were just standing around doing nothing, then I can only imagine the fate of your patients.”
Potter made a small sound like he wanted to laugh but was holding back. “You know what I mean.”
“Do I?” Draco asked, observing a trainee healer grinding up against a senior member of the Wizengamot with distaste.
“Why are you acting like this?”
Draco turned back to Potter and fixed him with what he hoped was a murderous glare. “If you really don’t know, Potter, then maybe that’s the problem.”
Leaving Potter gaping at him, the clueless asshole, Draco strode away searching desperately for a waiter. He really did need another champagne. He just didn’t want Potter to have the satisfaction of giving it to him.
Potter, clearly not getting the message, approached Draco again at the end of the night, where he stood by the bar. Draco might have had a few of glasses of champagne but he still had his head, even if it was a little fuzzy.
“There’s another party next week,” Potter said by way of opening. Draco was a little miffed at the lack of pleasantries.
Potter smiled - a shy, half smile that made Draco want to forgive him. “Did you wanna go?”
Draco held back his excitement at the question, his rapidly increasing heartbeat the only tell. Potter would have to work harder for a more obvious sign. “It’s expected I attend, Potter. Of course I’m going.”
“No, I meant - do you want to go together?” Potter said, swaying on the spot ever so slightly. “I’ll pick you up in a car - or we can apparate together. Maybe we can have dinner beforehand? I can’t stand the fancy stuff they serve at these things. I end up drinking firewhisky on an empty stomach all night and getting a lot drunker than I should and saying things I don’t mean.”
“Like now, you mean?” Draco countered. He was only teasing really - Potter had softened him up with his drunk ramblings - but Potter must not have picked up his change in tone.
“No, no, Draco, not now. I mean it - I’d like to -“
“You only call me Draco when you’re drunk,” Draco pointed out, not adding how much he enjoyed it.
“I’ll admit I’m a little bit tipsy,” Harry said with an apologetic smile - just as delightful as the previous one. “I needed the courage to ask you out. But if we’re going to start dating instead of, you know, just having sex in empty operating rooms, I think I should be able to call you Draco all the time.”
Dating. The word rang in Draco’s ears. He couldn’t help his lips from curling into a smile. “I don’t think that would be appropriate at work,” he said, maintaining some of his cool.
“Fine, Healer Malfoy,” Potter agreed with a wave of his hand (that seemed to put him off balance and start him swaying again). “So, is that a yes?”
Draco thought carefully. He didn’t want there to be any miscommunication about what Potter was suggesting. “You can pick me up at 6pm and we will apparate, not drive, to dinner. You can pick the restaurant but please make sure it is an establishment with real silverware and tablecloths. We will enter the party together, arms linked, to make our courtship known, and we will leave separately to avoid a scandal.”
Potter’s half smile split into one that covered his entire face, making him look a bit giddy. “But then we’ll meet up afterwards at yours and - “
“If you just want to have sex again, choose someone else,” Draco interrupted quickly, his recent uplift in mood taking a turn in the other direction. Sex with Potter was great but it wasn’t enough anymore. And if that’s all Potter wanted… “I’m sure there are plenty of people here who would jump at the opportunity.”
Potter’s face turned serious. “I don’t want anyone else.”
Draco felt instant relief as the tightness in his chest ceased. Potter didn’t want anyone else. “Good. Then I’ll see you next week.”
He made his exit before Potter could convince him to have sex right then and there - which Draco wasn’t so certain he’d be able to refuse with the state of his head what it was and Potter…being Potter. But he couldn’t help but glance back as he walked away, just for a quick, innocent look.
Potter was leaning against the bar, alone, smiling to himself. Draco would have made fun if he hadn’t been doing exactly the same thing too. Well, he could hardly help himself. A date with Harry Potter - that was something to smile about. And maybe, just maybe, Potter thought the same about a date with Draco Malfoy.
➸ prompt:I’m a vampire, and you’re a human who’s prone to getting hurt. Please take better care of yourself, or I might not be able to control myself!
➸ pairing: vampire yoongi x reader
➸ requested by anon | 900 words | fluff
Yoongi always panics when he sees you wielding a knife. Knowing how clumsy you are, he’s come to realise
that you plus cooking is a bad combination – particularly with his
stomach being empty and your blood always smelling so good.
So when he comes home to find
you in the kitchen, humming to yourself as you chop tomatoes his first instinct
is to yell, “Stop!”
No one comes after him. He knows he deserves that, but it still hurts.
But he’s accomplished what he set out to do, at least. They didn’t come after him, which means they all hate him again, and if they all hate him again, then they won’t feel obligated to include him or offer him those scraps of affection that only made him hungrier in the long run. Better to cut himself off, to let that hunger in his heart shrivel up and dies its lonely little death of starvation, than to torture himself by trying to live off of hope so thin and insubstantial it might as well have been thin air.
He knows this, in his head. But that doesn’t stop his heart–the stupid old thing–from crying. It doesn’t stop his chest from aching or his eyes from burning and stinging with a near-constant threat of tears. It doesn’t stop his gut from filling with the leaden certainty that it will be back to the lurking in the shadows for him, maybe for good this time, and to hell with trying to fit in or belong or be accepted. That had been his mistake: thinking he could ever truly be those things in the first place.
This is where he really belongs: out of everyone’s way. So this is where he will stay, and to hell with how much it hurts him. He isn’t what matters, and his own happiness is not what is really important.