Gentle reminder that the “it makes me happy I don’t care if it’s bad” excuse won’t help you in the long run.

Saying this now in the wake of TikTok, to any and all flocking back to it because they miss their comfort nonsense videos and don’t want to think about the big picture.

But it came from having a friend who is an alcoholic who, despite making over 50% more than I do, lives paycheck to paycheck because of their spending habits, alcohol included. Their defense? “It makes me happy and I deserve things that make me happy when my life is terrible.”

What I implore them to hear instead of just criticism: Find something else that makes you happy.

Nobody is a bad person for wanting to escape the shit reality we’ve just run back into like an abusive ex.

But does doomscrolling really make you happy? Does letting the hours burn by watching funny videos make you fulfilled?

You can take baby steps, no need to quit cold turkey. Say, 20 minutes of the time you would spend on TikTok (or wherever you get your fraught escape) go do something else.

Go start a puzzle you’ll never finish. Rearrange your bedroom. Redecorate. Walk around the block. Lie in bed and listen to music. Take a bath. Take a nap. Give your pet some love. Organize a deck of cards by number then by suit and mess it all up again. Play dress-up with the clothes you never get to wear. Watch the rain. Be bored.

Be bored and be okay with your own thoughts and you might surprise yourself.

JUYEON for ELLE CHINA (2025)

Wished For

Summary: The birthday boy pulls you away from his party for a moment to makeout with you. 

Drabble

Fluff, Mutual Pining/Friends to Lovers au

Word Count: 568

Juyeon X Reader 

[A/n: This is based on a distant memory of mine but pretty much everything is reimagined- esp the season this takes place. Anyways, Happy Juyeon Day!]

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In the loud night, where the fire is still crackling in the stone firepit, and everyone is roasting marshmallows and playing with sparklers. Juyeon grabs you by the waist and gently moves you away from the sound of laughter. He holds his sparkler he was playing with to celebrate being a year older away from you. Careful not to get any sparks on either of you. As his eyes quickly flick from your lips to your eyes before his lips capture yours, and you make out while your friends laugh about something. You pull him in deeper, sliding one hand under his shirt and another in his hair as his sparkler finishes. When you both pull away, you sigh heavily before looking at your friends, seeing if any of them caught onto what the two of you were doing. You laugh, noticing that none of them had noticed the birthday boy, and you had moved away from the flames. He guides you back over to join the group, sitting beside you. 

You grin at him as your knees bump into each other in front of the firepit. The two of you can’t help the little smiles that play on your lips as you look at each other. Knowing no one had caught onto your little game makes you both giddy. You get out two more sparklers before lighting them up, making little heart shapes with yours as Juyeon makes large circles with his. And when those run out of spark, you dispose of them. 

Jacob sees you both sitting there, with nothing in your hands, and hands you both sticks to roast marshmallows on. You get some marshmallows from the bag and roast them to a perfect golden brown. Juyeon pouts as he makes his marshmallows slightly crispy, and you can’t help but giggle at him. He pouts, and you resist your urge to kiss it away. You both eat your marshmallows together, not making any moves to move away from each other until the cake comes out. 

The cold night nips at your skin now that you’re away from the flame and Juyeon. You wish to return to the firepit, as the cold air makes you shiver. You stand towards the end of the table as you all sing Happy Birthday to him before he blows out his candles. And you can’t help but wonder if he wished for what you would have given the chance. But you let the thought rest, knowing you can’t ask someone to share their wish. You finally make your way up beside him. Sangyeon serves you the last piece of Juyeon’s cake before heading towards the pit with his cake. You grin as you dip your thumb into your frosting and smear it along his cheekbone. 

He looks so cute as he giggles at what you did before scrapping some of his frosting off and putting some on your nose. You grin, and you both make your way back to the pit, frosting coated. The warmth from the fire makes you feel toasty again. And when all of your friends are talking loudly about something again, Juyeon whispers to you, “What do you say? Can you make my birthday wish come true and finally be mine?” You grin, “I’d love nothing more.” He wished for exactly what you would have, and you couldn’t be happier to make his wish come true. 

🌟 A Cry for Help: My Family’s Struggle to Survive in Gaza 🌟

Hello, my name is Areej Kassab. I’m a 27-year-old English teacher and writer from Gaza, and I’m reaching out to you with a heavy heart and a desperate plea for support. My family and I are enduring unimaginable hardships as relentless bombings devastate our home and our dreams.

We are a family of 15—10 adults and 5 children. Every day is a battle for survival. Food is scarce, humanitarian aid is not reaching us, and my little nieces and nephews go to bed hungry. Among them is my sister, who is deaf, and another sister who has a newborn baby. They, too, are suffering in this crisis, and I’m doing everything I can to protect and provide for them.

💔 A Life in Ruins The war has robbed us of everything: safety, peace, and even the hope of a future here. My family’s needs are basic yet critical—food, clean water, diapers for the babies, gas for cooking, and other essentials to make it through each day.

With rising prices and limited access to necessities, we are struggling to provide even the most basic items. My sister’s home has been destroyed, and we are working together to ensure everyone has shelter, food, and warmth.

✨ My Plea for Your Support ✨ I’m a writer, and I’ve been documenting the harsh realities faced by my community under siege. But words can only do so much. We need action, and we need help. Your kindness can save us.

🙏 How You Can Help

Your support will help provide food for the children, clean water for my family, and basic supplies to help us survive this unimaginable crisis.

Thank you for reading, for caring, and for standing in solidarity with us. Together, we can create a lifeline for my family—a chance to live, to dream, and to hope again.

With love and gratitude, Areej Kassab ❤️

🚨 Help Save Shada’s Family and Baby Adam! 🚨

My name is Shada Kassab, and I am a 24-year-old mother living in Gaza. Every day is a fight for survival for me, my husband Hussein, and our baby boy Adam, who is just five months old.

Our lives have been turned upside down by war. My home has been reduced to rubble, and my husband lost his water truck, which was our only source of income. We’ve been forced to evacuate twice—from Deir el Balah to the Nuseirat camp—and now, we live in constant fear of what the future holds.

To make matters worse, Adam was born with clubfoot and urgently needs surgery. The cost for his treatment and specialized medical boots is at least $3000, but this surgery isn’t even possible in Gaza.

I recently graduated as a nurse, and I dream of building a better life for my family. But to do that, we must leave Gaza and start over in safety.

💔 I need your help to save my family and give Adam a future. Even a small donation 5$ can bring us closer to safety, and if you can’t donate, sharing our story means the world to us.

I dream of living in safety, of seeing Adam grow up healthy, and of building a better life for us all. Please don’t give up on us. Your kindness can make all the difference.

❤️ Thank you for taking the time to read this. Your support and compassion give us strength to keep going.

🌟 A Plea from Gaza: Rola’s Story 🌟

Hello, my name is Rola, and I am a mother of two children living in the Gaza Strip. Our lives were once filled with love, laughter, and dreams for the future. But everything changed on October 7th, when the war shattered not only our home but our entire world.

That morning, my family and I were enjoying coffee together on the balcony. Out of nowhere, an explosion erupted, shaking our home violently. My husband and son ran for cover, falling over each other in panic, while I stood frozen, still holding my cup, unable to process the chaos around me. When I looked out the window, I saw that our neighbor’s house, once filled with life, had been reduced to rubble. Ambulances rushed to the scene as people scrambled to rescue the injured and pull bodies from the debris.

The bombings didn’t stop. At night, the rain poured heavily, and the cold seeped into our bones. I stayed awake, covering my children to keep them warm and praying for their safety. But safety is an illusion here. Another explosion shattered the night, and our neighbors’ home was destroyed. Their children, who had been sleeping peacefully under a blanket, were found lifeless, their cover soaked in blood.

I looked at my children with tears in my eyes and thought, How can I protect you? We had to flee our home with nothing but the clothes on our backs. We left behind my children’s toys, their clothes, and their beautiful bedroom. Everything we had worked so hard to build is gone.

Our Current Reality Now, we are displaced and living in a nightmare. Food is scarce, and prices are unimaginably high—$10 for a kilo of sugar! The fear of death hangs over us constantly. My children deserve a life of joy and hope, not one defined by fear and loss. Why can’t we live like everyone else—go to work, visit family, and watch our children play in safety? Why do our children have to grow up surrounded by death and destruction?

How You Can Help I am pleading for your kindness to help us rebuild our lives. We need your support to: 💔 Rebuild our home, so my children can feel safe again. 🌍 Evacuate from Gaza, seeking a future where my family can live with dignity. 🩺 Provide urgent medical care for my children, who need protection from this nightmare.

Even the smallest donation can make a difference. If you can’t donate, please share my story. Every share brings us closer to hope.

What Your Support Means Your kindness is not just about helping us survive; it’s about giving us a chance to dream again. To rebuild what we’ve lost and to ensure my children have a future filled with possibilities, not fear.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story. Your support means the world to us. Let’s work together to rebuild hope, one step at a time.

🌸 Please share our story and consider donating today. 🌸

Together, we can create a better tomorrow. 🌍❤️

tbz maknae line 🔛🔝 

⤷ ⋅˚₊‧ hyunjae; lockscreens ⋆˚. ᵎᵎ

≡ like/reblog if you save or use. thank you ★

Just Go Fuck Him

Pairing: photographer!Lee Hyunjae x afab!reader

Summary: Hyunjae moves back into his childhood home and old feelings and memories come up.

Warnings: MDNI, reader has scars, brief mention of childhood trauma, brief mention of surgeries, flashbacks, a smidge negative self-talk, hyunjae is the rizzler, smut... creampie, pet names, yada yada

Rating / Genre: M, neighbor au, childhood crush au, fluff?, slight angst (it’s really not THAT bad), lots of pining

WC: 8K (2K+ words for the smut scenes)

Artist Note: @everynewiee Enjoy! Special thank you to @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this and giving me the best fucking commentary. You're a gem and I probably would not have posted this if you hadn't stroked my ego. Love youuuuuu. If there's a typo I'll get to it eventually

m.list tag list

The living room was quiet in its typical offputting fashion as you sat around with your parents; no one saying anything as there were no conversations to be had and nothing playing on the television since no one would pay attention anyway, a phone captivating its user as everyone sat in their respective places. Any interaction at this point would feel almost disrespectful and annoying, disrupting the usual routine of your and your parent’s day. 

Your favorite place to cocoon was on the right side of the sofa, wrapped in a plush blanket while you doom-scrolled until you eventually needed to walk the dogs. This is how your days were spent since your college graduation, making your parents the only ones on the block who weren’t empty nesters. Maybe that explained why you never went out—  there was no one to go out with. Everyone else seemed to blossom rapidly, moving away and starting lives too hectic to return to their childhood homes on a regular basis while you sat at home, wrapped in blankets, feeling left behind.

Feeling left behind wasn’t inherently a negative thing, though— and it wasn’t really a feeling either. Acknowledgment: that’s what you’d describe this part of your life as— the acknowledgment of being a late bloomer, the acceptance of being the last flower waiting to bloom. The last person to leave the nest, as some would say, and that fact was totally okay with you because, in truth, it was okay for you to spend your days the way you pleased. There was no reason to run out and chase after what everyone else was doing just to keep up, to avoid loneliness at the risk of getting hurt. 

Maybe it wasn’t just an acknowledgment; perhaps being a flower that’s yet to bloom guaranteed safety from a world so wide with new people who didn’t know you and old people who’d changed so much that you didn’t know them at all. You certainly weren’t close with anyone that you’d grown up with, and when you’d run into them at the odd holiday party that you were forced to attend, that fact was always highlighted awkwardly and sometimes painfully. There’s something to be said about standing silently in a circle full of adults that you used to run around outside with as a child, as wild stories are passed around, and accomplishments are one upped by additional accomplishments. You’ve watched enough cliques coalesce in real time, cliques that you were a part of as a child but somehow couldn’t squeeze into as an adult… and to say the least, it gets old. Thus, you cocooned, you doom-scrolled, and you became content with the silent life you’d curated with your parents.

So the living room is as quiet as it always was, and the day would drone on as it always did, and you’d be just fine not rocking the boat until it was time to go to bed and do it all over again tomorrow.

But sometimes the boat needs to be rocked, and the loud knock that’s heard does the trick in making your mom flinch in her seat, and your father crane his neck to the rather unexpected sound.

You, on the other hand, do not react because a knock at the door— regardless of how foreign, is never for you. The shifting of your parents getting out of their seats and the creaking of the floorboards underneath their feet does nothing to pull you away from your phone because, again, no one is knocking on the door for you, and you’d never entirely inherited your nan's natural curiosity.

It’s not until your mom comes back into the living room with her head peeking out from behind the foyer wall as she calls out your name that you finally get up from your favorite spot on the couch. The action is done begrudgingly, but your mom swears someone is here to visit you, and her smile is vast, so at the very least, you would appease your mom and be polite.

i didn’t expect this to be as well received as it has been since i posted it. pretty cool, thank you. every comment is appreciated and has made my day at one time or another