You could have sworn only moments ago you were spending your days in bliss, indulging in all the luxuries the City of Altissia had to offer. Food, dancing, gondola rides… wasting your hard earned gil with every passing moment.
You’d forgotten all about your quest in assisting the young Prince, your friend, to Lady Lunafreya so they could be wed in efforts to end the war between Lucis and Niflheim. You truly came to believe you were only on a fun vacation with your best friends and your lover, Ignis Stupeo Scientia. Only a mere twenty four hours ago, you were strolling down the maze of the city of Altissia, arm in arm with the Royal advisor admiring the breathtaking scenery and architecture.
Of course, all good things must come to an end… just as well as your brief fantasy of a perfect world…
The sky was somber. Dark haunt clouds hung above the city, blocking out the sun entirely.
The occasional echo of thunder sent nervous chills up your spine as you tried to struggled free from the Magitek Solider’s clawed grip. “Let go of me!” You said through gritted teeth, squirming your body back and forth. “Let go!”
Your eyes drifted over to you left to find Ignis being forced to the floor. He growled threateningly, attempting to continue his intense assault upon the enemy, but there were too many.
They finally stopped you both.
They finally stopped him.
“No!” You yelped, watching two MT’s pin him to the ground, holding his hands behind his back. Without wasting a moment, several more standing Magitek Soldiers marched forward, guns in hand.
An assault rifle.
A submachine gun.
And countless others.
They were all being aimed at Ignis.
You halted your struggle to watch the scene unfold before you. Your lungs began to ache and burn causing you to realize you stopped breathing entirely. An intense dizziness washed over you as you watched the Magitek Troopers’ clawed fingers hover over the triggers over their weapons.
“No! No! PLEASE DON’T SHOOT!” You screamed a bloodcurdling cry, lunging forward, shaking free of your captor’s grip only momentarily. Your lunge lead you forward only a few inches before being pulled back into the harsh embrace of the solider, it’s claws digging into your stomach from behind.
“If this young man doesn’t cause anymore trouble, there will be no need for his life to be lost, my dear,” the familiarity of such a rich, devious, voice caused you to halt your struggle once more. Out of the waves of MT’s that taken you and your lover out of commission, walked the crimson violet haired man you and your friends had… “coincidentally”… ran into several times over the course of your journey through the outskirts of Lucis.
Ardyn Izunia. Chancellor of Niflheim.
You always had your suspicions of the strange man ever since your first meeting at Galdin Quay weeks ago.
“Iggy,” you whispered breathlessly, staring down at the love of your life with fear in your eyes. His left cheek was pressed hard to the ground, allowing him only to glance at you in his peripheral vision.
His glasses were pushed only slightly off his nose, leading them askew from his eyes.
You wanted him to respond. You needed him to respond to you.
His display of combat he put on only minutes ago was astonishing. He destroyed MT’s like it was simple child’s play, switching from his daggers to his lance in the blink of an eye. He could have fared just fine without your help, but together you were unstoppable… or so it seemed. Seeing him so defeated and weak shattered your heart into pieces.
“You both have caused quite a lot of issues for my friends and I, and unfortunately, that mustn’t go overlooked,” he sighed before an wolfish smirk crossed over his features.
“Don’t you dare hurt him,” you threatened, feeling fear consume you. You wouldn’t dare to let it show through, however.
Ardyn let out a low chuckle, gracefully pushing past his minions, walking toward you. He grabbed on to your arm tightly, dismissing the Magitek Trooper of his duty of restraining you. “Keep on eye on him,” he ordered the solider, gesturing him to take out his weapon and aim it onto the Royal Advisor once more.
Your heart sank.
“I”m doing you a kindness, dear. I promised you; as long as he doesn’t cause any more trouble, he will live to see tomorrow,” he paused. “You on the other hand…” he muttered into your ear as you felt the sharp, cold pressure of a knife gently press against your throat.
“No! Get your hands off them!” Ignis demanded, only being able to struggle slightly under the pressures of his countless restraints.
Ardyn spun the knife to push the flat side against your throat. “Hmm, perhaps we should make things a little bit more interesting Mr. Scientia. Would you care to play a game with me?”
Ignis didn’t respond. His breath began to sound labor as a unfamiliar fury rushed through his emerald eyes. He gritted his teeth, his star burning daggers into Ardyn.
Ardyn let out a breathy chuckle. “I’ll take that as a yes,” you could hear his evil smirk as he continued to restrain you from behind. “The game is quite simple, actually. Though it will make our little predicament all the more… interesting.”
Your heart pounded hard against your rib cage feeling the knife against your skin shift only slightly.
“You, kind sir, get to pick who pays for your crimes. You… or this lovely thing,” Ardyn pushed you forward, forcing Ignis get a better view of the lock he had you in.
You struggled only slightly, but was quickly stopped as Ardyn turned the sharp end to your neck once more.
“Answer fast. Your little sweetheart is wearing my patience thin…”
“Just do it. Do whatever you want with me,” you said, unwavering. “Leave him alone.”
“Ah, ah, ah, I do believe the rules of our little game only allowed Mr. Scientia to pick,” he glance his devious amber eyes to Ignis. “Please, don’t let their noble attempt affect your answer.”
You whimpered, holding your breath. Your eyes began to sting with tears— not only for your own fate, but for Ignis’s. There was no way only one of you would come out of this situation unscathed or a live… No one would be winning this sickening game except for Ardyn.
You wanted it to be you.
You needed it to be you.
He had to chose you.
Whatever sickening torture Ardyn had planed had to happen to you. Ignis didn’t deserve the consideration of such an perilous, yet unknown fate.
“Do what you will with me. Release Y/N,” he spoke calmly, just as he always did.
“No! Ignis! What are you doing?!”
He said nothing as you struggled in Ardyn’s arms as his sliver knife left your neck.
“IGNIS!” You repeated, suddenly seething at your boyfriend’s answer. “Just pick me, Six, damn you!” You cursed.
“You. Come here,” Ardyn ordered another Magitek solider to approach him. “Make sure this one sees it all. I want them to enjoy the game we’re playing,” he smiled, forcing you onto the ground beside Ignis. Swiftly, you reached your hand out to him, the tips of you fingers only hardly brushing the smooth skin on his cheek. You felt several pairs of metal claws dig into your back, holding your head to face Ignis, and restraining your wrists … keeping them only inches from your lover.
You dug your nails into the concrete, finally noticing the tiny droplets of rain colliding with your skin causing you to shiver. “Ignis,” you cried out in a breathy whisper, looking at him with pain in your eyes. His gritted teeth relaxed, his green eyes staring into yours lovingly.
“I love you,” he mouthed to you in silence.
“How sweet. Young love has always been a weakness of mine,” Ardyn chuckled sarcastically, approaching Ignis, knife still in hand. He placed his booted foot on Ignis’s face, trailing it down to the bridge of his nose. With harsh force, he crushed Ignis’s nose, surely breaking it, earning a harsh scream of agony pass his perfect lips. You shut your eyes tight, unable to continue to see him in such pain.
The sound of his glasses shattering ran through your ears.
“Open you’re eyes, dear,” Ardyn laughed, “You’re not going to want to miss this part.”
How long have you been writing Klaine fic? Do you consider yourself a part of the Klaine fandom? I loved Glee from the beginning but was shy about participating. I started publishing Klaine fic in the fourth season when I realized how much time I spend wanting to participate but holding back. I’m still far from talkative in fandom, and I’ve quietly taken breaks from it, but I’ve had my fun on the periphery.
Have you written fic in other fandoms or non-Klaine Glee fic or are you a Klaine only kind of a writer? I’ve written in other fandoms under other names prior to Glee, but @flickerthenflare is exclusively Klaine.
What’s your most popular fic(s)? (by whatever metrics you like) Why do you think people loved that story?
“All Your Life You’ll Dream of This” wins the popularity contest easily. Royalty AU is a trope that already has some built-in appeal, and it’s not that much of a stretch to make Blaine an actual prince. I still get a kick out of the basic premise: an “It Gets Better” video from literal royalty inspiring a lonely, royals-obsessed Kurt, and a prince’s modern-day search for a husband to hold up his end of a bargain that will lead to marriage equality throughout the kingdom. This is the series I’m most tempted to revisit/rewrite because the first fic fits my vision for what I wanted it to be better than the sequels, but I’ve already put it out there, so it’s committed to being what it is.
What fic do you wish more people had read? “Tales from Los Angeles”, which is an imagining of Blaine’s first major professional role that has him working through insecurities, his imperfect relationship with Cooper, and how to do a long-distance relationship with Kurt right.
I’m not bummed by the readership it got, and I so appreciate the hits/kudos/likes/reblogs/comments on it, but writing it was such a labor of love and I had the ideas in my head for so long by the time I started posting it that I wished more people really engaged with it.
What’s a good thing that’s come out of writing Klaine fic? Finishing it! Kudos/likes/comments are a huge motivator to finish fic, because they can feel amazing. I still have a bad habit of drafting fic and then abandoning it under the assumption that it won’t be good enough to warrant any of that attention, but being part of the Klaine fandom pushed me to finish at least some of what I started.
Love you make me happy to wake, the least I could do is show some appreciation for you. Your blog brightens my day. My mom yells at me for spending so much time on here but how can I not when there's people like you. Please never stop writing, I don't care if you never publish anything you have so much talent. I adore your writing style and wish I could write like you.
Awee you are so so nice💖 This actually made me smile so much. You’re the sweetest😘 Ily xox
ok I’ve had this random imagine in my notes for a while so here ya go, dunno if it’s that good….. but whatever
also,, credit to whoever made this adorable edit ⬆︎
“Just friends. Let’s just be friends."
That’s what we said. Seven whole years ago. I can’t believe I went through seven years managing to not really feel anything for him. But here it is again. The feeling I got when he kissed me, my heart skipping over a beat. The looks I used to give him, I’ve lost control over them again. I look back now on those days and realize I could’ve handled things better. I could’ve been more… normal.
But how are you supposed to act normal around your first real love? You never forget your first love, do you? Obviously not if you spend every day with them and live together.
This is what goes through my mind late at night when I hear Dan pacing in his room and rummaging through the fridge in the kitchen. I can see him clearly in my head. His hair, ruffled in a curly mess on top of his head, his eyes sleepy and his skin soft and warm.
I can’t help it, I stand up and walk out of my room. The door to Dan’s room is open but he’s not there. I keep walking and stop when I see Dan in the kitchen. He’s staring tiredly into the fridge. I lean against the doorway and just look at him. Dan eventually closes the fridge and jumps at the sight of me. He holds his hand on his chest while chuckling at his jumpiness.
"Not eating your cereal, I’m a good friend.” is the first thing he says.
He points his finger at me and laughs and I fake a smile.
“What are you doing up?” He asks and looks down on his iPhone. It’s 2:14 am.
“You woke me,” I chuckle and stop leaning against the doorway. I take a step closer to him and he takes a step back to lean against the counter. How symbolical.
“Oh sorry,” Dan says casually. He lifts his hand up to remove a piece of his fringe from his eye.
How is it that I find that so beautiful? I always loved his curls. It was almost like a sign of his love for me in a way. Back when he was insecure about everything he wouldn’t show himself to anyone without straightened hair, but me. Now he’s embraced it and, don’t get me wrong, I love that but the fact that he’s showing the whole world makes me feel empty. It’s like our bond is fading. He’s showing the world what he used to show only me. It might just be really stupid, but so am I.
“I really like the curls,” I say quietly and Dan laughs at me.
“Thanks,” he mumbles.
“What’s up?” he asks.
“You. You’re upset.”
“I’m not. I’m fine,” I fake laugh and Dan raises his eyebrows. I guess our bond isn’t really fading, I was being dramatic. He still knows me better than anyone in the world.
I stare at Dan for a solid four seconds before looking down. I guess that is what they call ‘Love Eyes Lester’. I never really realized I do that until now. When I look up I see him looking at me intensely. It makes my heart skip a beat again.
“My heart just did that thing,” I whisper and as soon as I realize what I just said I shut my mouth and look down.
“What?” Dan asks. “Phil, I didn’t hear.”
“Nothing,” I shrug. I see his feet taking a step closer to me.
“My heart did the thing,” I say louder and we make eye contact again. His concerned expression fades away as all his muscles relax for a second. He looks as if he’s in shock.
“First kiss kinda thing?” Dan asks and I clench my jaw. He remembered what I said about our first kiss, how my heart almost did flips inside my chest. We haven’t talked about us kissing in years.
“Uhm..” I look around the kitchen as I panic inside.
“Phil,” Dan says. He takes another step towards me. “Do you want to kiss me right now?”
We stare at each other for what feels like ten minutes, but is actually only five seconds.
Another small step from Dan.
Does he feel the same? Have I just been blind?
“You never forget your first love, Phil. Especially not if it’s your best friend,” Dan almost whispers. I sigh quietly and Dan smiles weakly.
“You don’t like that word, do you?”
“..not when it’s addressing us,” I mumble after another long silence.
“Hm,” Dan hums and looks down.
“Seriously Phil, I think about our first years a lot. I do… Why not risk friendship again?”
I can’t tell if he’s just being sarcastic or if he’s serious.
“Love is just friendship set on fire after all,” Dan shrugs and touches my hands. I flinch the first millisecond but then immediately accept his hands in mine. The feeling of Dan’s skin against mine is one of my favorite feelings in the world.
It immediately throws me back to the two young boys in a bedroom in 2009. Two boys being foolish, experimenting and living life to the fullest with each other. Two boys on a bed, talking about life, playing with each other’s hair and intertwining hands.
“I’ll be the fire,” Dan says which takes me back to reality. He smiles and before I know it he pulls my body closer to him, causing our faces to collide in a rough kiss.
Suddenly I’m fully awake.
Suddenly I’m staring at Dan’s closed eyes.
My head, despite the late hour and my hazy state of mind, pulls it together and tells my body to close my eyes. I do and for the first time in seven years I feel Dan’s lips on mine.
Hello, everyone! Just wanted to post a quick, small message to say that I’m not dead and just how much I appreciate everyone’s patience with me at this time. I have been slowly finishing replies and the additional starters I owe, but yes I do admit that I’ve been a little slower than usual. I’ve been really sick lately and even days ago had to spend some time at the hospital. Although I feel better now compared to then, I’m still sick and taking care of myself and all that comes with it like getting my rest, taking my medicines, and going to all my appointments and health-related errands does take a priority in my now. But do not worry things are getting done when I can. Once my drafts are completed they will all be added to my queue. I’m hoping to be back to normal activity and will get to all my inbox and IM messages also by either the end of this week or early next since holidays are coming up. I miss you all and just thought I’d give a little heads up that I hope you can all understand. Diana is one of my favorite characters and I’ve had this account for years now and just rebooted her not too long ago so I don’t have any intentions on leaving or anything like that anytime soon. I just fell really ill. That’s the main reason to my absence. I will be back. Hope you are all having a great week, are taking care, and are staying safe. I shall talk to you again all soon! Peace, love, and positive vibes. <3
3. Estimate how long it takes me to answer a question, on average.
Double your estimate because I have anxiety and I spend a lot of time editing and checking and rechecking my responses, and this doesn’t include the time I spend making sure all quotes are transcribed and translated as correctly as possible.
4. Multiply the numbers in Steps 2 and 3 together to get an idea of how long I spend answering asks each day.
If you want, reply to this post with this number. I’m curious :)
Now you might be wondering why we’re doing this.
We’re doing this because I have sixteen asks in my inbox right now, all from anons (so I can’t reply privately) and all asking for some kind of complex analysis.
We’re doing this because there are people who send me asks every single day, or two a day, or five a day, and they seem to think they’re the only ones.
We’re doing this because people seem to think that I’m some kind of a puppy performing tricks or a machine with all the answers. Stick a few words into the askbox and boom! an answer comes out 12 hours later.
Except I’m not a puppy. Nor am I a machine.
I’m a person.
When someone sends me a message asking me for my opinion on something, they’re giving me licence to write as much or as little as I want. I can reply with two lines or two thousand words. It’s my choice.
But when someone sends me a message asking for my analysis of a scene, what they’re doing is ordering me around. They’re not giving me any option except to spend about three hours on watching and analysing something.
It might seem the same to a person when they’re sitting at their computer, typing their message into that little box, but the two scenarios are vastly different to me.
It’s the same when people send me a prompt that’s open-ended and one that is so prescriptive that it tells me that I am not allowed to include my own original character.
I need to have a choice.
I need to be able to reply to something in two lines if I want to.
I’m not saying that I don’t want to analyse things. I love analysis. I’m saying that I would like to have a choice. When people ask for my thoughts, they usually get an analysis. I’ve written thousands of words about sixty seconds of footage before. But I feel like I got to choose to spend all those hours crafting my response.
I’ve been clear that the recaps are on hold because I can no longer, on a regular basis, dedicate that much time (4-6 hours!) to produce a single one. I don’t think people should be able to circumvent that by demanding analysis of scenes and episodes that will be covered in future recaps. That’s what the recaps are for!
I’m not saying that I only want to talk to about the episodes I’ve written recaps on. Even then … when people send me asks without even reading the recaps for the episodes in question, it feels like my time and effort aren’t respected.
I would much prefer if they asked my opinion or asked for my thoughts because I would then feel comfortable giving a short answer if I wanted to.
I’m not performing tricks on this blog. I’m not writing recaps for others; I’m writing them for myself. Similarly, I write fanfiction for myself. This blog is about what I see – the beauty I see, the cleverness, the amazing writing and excellent acting, the technical prowess of the team behind the show. I create gifsets and fun facts and all that stuff because I want to share that love, but they’re still more about me and what I see.
I understand the impulse to send in requests and I don’t mind them, but there’s a difference between sending nice requests and demanding that I do things on demand. I’m not going to play ball if I feel like I’m being taken advantage of.
If you like what I do on this blog, then give me the room to do things as I want to do them. Please be polite and respect my time. Please don’t demand that I do things for you – this blog isn’t a service. I’m not here to perform and I’m not here to entertain. I’m here to enjoy myself.
TL;DR: Be nice. It goes a long way if you try to put yourself in my shoes.
I'm curious about how you spend your training time on ice. I always wonder if I'm training effective enough?
Warm up, edges, then I practice whatever I was struggling with in my last lesson, afterwards I’ll do spins and jumps (order depends on the day) then I end with drills/cardio stuff like swizzle laps, pump laps, edge pulls and the test patterns. I normally then go for a twizzle sesh at the very very end before I hop off and do a cool down
What is my perfect 💯crime🕵🤔? I break 👊💪into Tiffany’s 💁👸at midnight. ⏰1️⃣2️⃣ Do I go for the vault🔐💰? No 🙅👎, I go for the chandelier💡. It’s priceless😩💸💎. As I’m taking it down⬇️, a woman🙎 catches 👀😱me. She tells 🗣me to stop🖐🚷. It’s her father’s 👴👤business📈📋🗃. She’s Tiffany💁👸. I say no❌. We make love😏😩💦 all night🌃🌙. In the morning🏙☀️, the cops🚨🚔 come and I escape🏃👻 in one of their uniforms👮. I tell her to meet👫➡️ me in Mexico🇲🇽🌮, but I go to Canada🇨🇦😈. I don’t ❌😤trust🔒 her. Besides, I like the cold😏⛄️❄️. Thirty 3️⃣0️⃣years later⏲, I get a postcard📫💌. I have a son👶 and he’s the chief👆 of police👮. This is where👇 the story gets interesting👌🏻📝. I tell Tiffany 💁👸to meet me in Paris 🗼🇫🇷 by the Trocadero😜💦💦. She’s been waiting ⏱🤔for me all these years📆🗓. She’s never 🙅taken another lover👫💖👰. I don’t care🖐🙄. I don’t show up⬆️. I go ✈️to Berlin🇩🇪👨🏻. That’s where I 👁stashed 📦the chandelier.💡💎😏
i talked to him on a wednesday. he sighed on my bed. i was skyping my sister, who was trying to teach me how to knit. i told him i needed to go to bed early, i had a test in the morning. he said he had things to discuss and i’m a patient person so i listened.
this is, i learn, how our “friendship” works. hours of my life become his sanctuary. he texts me constantly. his problems fill up every space in my planner. often he demands my attention rather than asking. i feel bad, because i’m the type to feel bad, so i listen. i offer advice that goes ignored, i sit in contemplative silence even though i should be studying, i nod my head and support him.
he doesn’t notice i start drinking wine as soon as he shows up. a few times i make the mistake of trying to bring my own problems up. they are always overshadowed by his own, or else i am given an odd supply of uncomfortable comments. “i don’t feel good lately” is met with “a girl as pretty as you isn’t supposed to feel sad.” i say “i don’t like my writing recently” and he spends forty seconds saying i’m beautiful and intelligent and a perfect girlfriend before saying “unlike me, i’m awful” and before i know it, i’m comforting him again. we don’t have real conversations. once, as an experiment, i spend two hours completely silent, just to see if he’ll notice. he doesn’t.
once he bursts into my room while i’m scheduling my week. he’s taken aback by how much i’m doing. “you look so busy!” he says, “where’s all the time you’re planning on spending with me?” he doesn’t ask about any of my other activities. he knows nothing about my life except that i’m good at listening. i feel myself under a rolling pin. he flattens me out to use me. he punishes me if i don’t give him attention - all i hear is how he is useless without me, how he’s barely holding on, how he doesn’t know what he’d do if one day i was gone. he doesn’t know my middle name. he misses my birthday.
it’s wednesday again. i’ve been drinking. he took some of my wine without asking. he lounges on my couch with his arm casually around me. my actual friends know i don’t like touching. i asked him to move but he just laughed and said “you’re so funny.” he’s too heavy for me to move physically so i just let him lay there, complaining. i stare into space, thinking about the news i got that day. about how my life has changed.
he looks up to me. “can i ask you a personal question?”
i don’t say “that would be a first,” because my mother raised me to respond politely. i tell him go ahead, as always, i’m listening.
“why do girls like you date jerks?” he asks me.
i stare at him, uncomprehending. he is a runaway train, his mouth still moving. “I just mean,” he says, “you’re all always going after the worst guys like you don’t even see people like me. like i’m always being friend-zoned, even you did it, and you’re one of the only people who is nice to me. but girls like you never say yes to boys like me.”
i don’t know what he’s saying. i’m dating a girl, and he would know that, if he knew anything about me; a clever and talented girl who means everything to me.
he sighs and sits back when i’m not immediate in responding. “this,” he says, “is what i mean.” looks up with puppy dog eyes at me, “i mean could you ever date someone as awful as me? am i just a friend? am i doomed to be nothing more than the friend to pretty girls?”
we aren’t friends. we aren’t friends. we aren’t friends.
he moves the topic before i can reply, back to his problems. i text my girlfriend, “men are animals” and she sends me back a poem about how much she loves me. he tries to kiss me when he leaves, and when i duck out of it, i later get sixteen texts on how scared i am of sex. his facebook posts are all about how women don’t know how to find the right men. how we’re blind to the good things. how we don’t see fate when it’s happening.
I used to have a lot of trouble still do with procrastination and I realized that, in my new studyblr days, I didn’t know how to utilize my studyblr to help me and it was just another way for me to procrastinate and feel productive. If you can relate to this, you could probably benefit from this little dose of studyblr realness.
Don’t use your studyblr just for aesthetics: studyspo is great for inspiration and motivation, and it’s probably what drew you to the studyblr community, but it shouldn’t be what makes you stay. You won’t be able to take anything worthwhile from your blog if all you reblog is photos of beautiful notes. Mix it up with masterposts and printables and photos of “non-aesthetic” notes.
Don’t use methods that don’t work for you: if you absolutely cannot understand mindmaps but absolutely love the way they look, resist the urge to make them. You’ll only end up confusing yourself and wasting time. Only use note taking and studying methods that make sense to you. 90 percent of the time they’ll be things that you used before you made a studyblr. This isn’t to say that you shouldn’t experiment with different styles and methods, but only stick to what works for you.
Discipline over motivation: imho, the study community overstates the importance and effectiveness of motivation. Don’t get me wrong, motivation makes studying more enjoyable when you have it, but more often than not you don’t. In the end, motivation isn’t what makes you study every night, or stick with self studying a language. You have to discipline yourself to study when you don’t want to, or work when you’re tired. My old French teacher used to say “Don’t fall into the trap of waiting motiviation, and just do it” and I feel like that’s super important with this. (1, 2, 3)
Talking about studying isn’t studying: sort of related to number 3, don’t let your studyblr be another way to put off work. It’s all to easy to think “I’m blogging about studying; in being productive,” but it’s a dangerous thing to do. Studyspo is great, but don’t let scrolling through your feed become another method of procrastination.
Take photos after you study: or during, but not before. I used to spend so long taking pictures of my notes, that I wouldn’t have time to study them. I still take too long photographing my notes to take picture, so I’ve started using a pomorodo timer. After 25 minutes, I’ll use my five minute break to take photos. It’s increases my productivity so much, and I’m not sure how I ever functioned without that system.
Just get it done (and prioritize): honestly, sometime you just have to forget about trying to make your notes look pretty and just go for functionality over looks. Just let go of any studyblr ideals and do what you need to do. If you don’t have time to bullet journal and get your work finished, use an electronic calendar or don’t spend so long on your journal. Most importantly, be real with yourself. At the end of the day, you know yourself best, and you know what you need to do.
Good luck on your studyblr journeys lovelies, hope this helped!
[TRANS] non-no Magazine 2017 Aug Issue - BTS Jungkook
4 QS WITH BTS
Q1:What’s your hobby or something you’re into recently, how do you spend your holiday?
A1: I’m enjoying playing FPS (First Person Shooter) games recently. Every day I play for 3-4 hours and in the blink of an eye it’s already time to sleep. (laughs) And I listen to music all the time. I listen to exciting music like the future base genre too, but I lean more towards moody and calming songs.
Q2:Tell us your fashion style or preference!
A2: I like big silhouette like hooded jackets and the color black. I don’t change my style that much even in summer. Although we have different styles, I think Rap Monster and J-hope are really cool because you can feel how they are from their way of dressing.
A3: The fragrance of the wind or the green when spring comes. I once rode a bike along the riverside while listening to music together with Rap Monster and V on a spring day before. When I feel the distinctive air of the early spring, I would recall the memory of that day and get excited.
Q4:Favorite work among Japanese movies, dramas, mangas?
A4: I like Japanese animes and my favorite work, which is also what Jin’s currently into, is ‘Haikyuu!!’. It helps me learn Japanese too!
THIS IS ME
I’m the type to focus on something instantly once I feel like I want to do it, I want to accomplish it! Right now I’m into makng music so I’m learning diligently, even though it’s still far from releasing. My personality is to do what I like first and think of whether it’s going well or not later.
I like food! Especially meat. Chicken is my favorite. I like the food at Japanese convenience stores so much that I think about convenience stores every time I go to Japan (laughs) If I travel to Japan off work, I would stop by several times!
I love sleeping so much. I’m into playing games so my sleep time has been cut off (laughs) If I have even just a little bit of time like in the car, I would nod off to sleep.
THIS IS HIM: JUNGKOOK is…
“A member with stronger desire to improve for music and dancing than others, but sometimes he also has the cute maknae-like side like a spoilt baby. I have to use my strength when I hug him since he’s tall, so I can sleep well. (laughs)”
“The maknae who works harder since he was young than any of the members. He’s the same age as my real brother so I look after him well, but at some point he has started to feel like my real brother. Whatever he does, he’s cute.”
transcript of the speech i gave at Vassar’s black baccalaureate service
Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, honored guests, and the Vassar class of 2017.
Just saying that aloud made me feel old. Class of 2017? Most of y'all were born after dark-skinned Aunt Viv left the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. That’s wild.
I want to first thank you for allowing me to be a part of such a special moment in your lives. I am honored, privileged, and a bit in disbelief that you asked me of all people to give this address. I try not to have feelings, and I’m going to do my best not to cry today, but no promises.
I’m here to stand in the gap between you and your parents and guardians and any other elders in your lives that you stopped listening to because you thought they were wack and out of touch. I remember being in your shoes not TOO long ago, and it is my fervent prayer that something that I say here today will help you avoid some of the mess I went through.
To be honest I’m a little nervous, but I figured there was no way could this be worse than when Betsy DeVos went down to Bethune-Cookman, so let’s get started.
As you transition to life after Vassar the changes will be both inevitable and swift, so I’d like to begin by giving you some well-intentioned advice and warning you about the continued process of becoming an adult.
“I am not a diabetic. Look, this morning my blood sugar was 193 and I hadn’t even eaten anything. That’s not diabetes.”
“Ma’am, that 100% is diabetes.” This conversation quickly became a stalemate between ignorance and my inability to explain her diagnosis in a way she would accept. In fact, every conversation I had with her went this way. She was perhaps the most obstinate and oblivious patient I had ever met. And she was my patient.
She had come in with the worst foot ulcer I have ever seen. It tracked all the way down to the bone, meaning an amputation was likely in her future. According to her, the ulcer had started a couple days before and she had never had an ulcer before in her life. I used my years of medical training to quickly deduce that a) there was no way that ulcer happened in a few days and b) she most definitely had two very bad looking ulcers on the other foot. When I pointed that out she became upset, telling me they were just split calluses, not ulceration. Every attempt to diagnose and explain the diagnosis was refuted by her “intimate knowledge of her own body.”
The next several days were some of my most frustrating. I was called to her room for numerous reasons, including refusing insulin (because she wasn’t diabetic), refusing dressing changes (because she was allergic to the dressing), complaining that the hospital food was inedible and rotted, and yelling at nurses about their inadequate care. Each time I walked to the room and took my verbal lashings. I listened. I empathized. I did everything I could to put myself in her place and see the fear she likely felt about losing her foot.
None of that was enough.
I am not sure if I have ever truly hated a patient. But with her, I came close. Despite my ill-feelings I spent hours coordinating her care between multiple surgical specialties, all of which wanted to pass on taking a non-compliant diabetic, vasculopath to the OR. Podiatry, vascular, and orthopedics all subtly yelled, “not it.”
Several days into her hospital stay I expressed my frustration to my attending. “They are not your ulcers,” he replied. I looked back, confused, as he continued. “They are not your ulcers. If you care for every patient’s problem as if it were your own, it will destroy you. She got herself into this and she has to bear some responsibility for getting herself out. If she refuses to take our recommendations as to her care, there is nothing we can do. There are times you have to step back and separate yourself from the patient.”
I have thought about his words a lot since then. In some ways if feels antithetical to my nature to see medicine as a job. But I have also experienced the severe mental fatigue and frustration that comes with trying to help a patient unwilling to help themselves. At the end of the day, how far should we go? How much time should I spend on one uncooperative patient knowing it takes time away from other patients who also need my services? In the end I did step back from the case and allow myself to see my care for her as something closer to a job. I switched off service a few days later and the last I knew she was getting an amputation, though she spent time fighting with surgeons about where they could cut.
At some point we have to protect ourselves as physicians, despite how mentally strong we believe ourselves to be. This year has taught me a lot of medicine, but it has also challenged me mentally. I am still searching for the coping skills necessary to survive life as a resident and eventually as an independent doctor. Despite the frustration this patient provided, she did allow me some excellent learning in this area. In the end, I have to appreciate her for that.