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random-mha-thoughts · 4 years

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Fake (Tamaki x Reader)

Pairing: Tamaki x Fem!Reader

Someone messaged me with the request: “I was thinking about if one of the boys had a fem friend and they are hanging out one day and some guy won't leave them alone so they act as if the boy is their boyfriend to make the guy go away and after the boy actually really liked being called her bf and they realize the feelings they had for them were not as platonic as they first thought? Always thought this was cute!!" They also gave me the option to do Bakugou or Tamaki, so I went with Tamaki

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 2,220

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog @bunnythepipsqueak

a/n: Thank you for the request and the kind messages dear! SO sorry this one took a while, I wanted to take the time and do Tamaki properly and I was also generally just burnt out so I really hope I did it justice and you like it!

I meant to finish this last night because I thought I would keep it short, but instead it ended up being 2.2k words?? And I fell asleep writing it (no joke, when I woke up there was a huge line of 3s on my screen) and I finished it during the day today.

"I've always thought cotton candy was a magical type of snack," I comment, happily chomping away at the sugary treat melting in my mouth. "It's the type of thing that makes you feel like a kid again!"

"Mm, I guess so," Tamaki responds, taking another bite of his takoyaki.

"Do you want a bite?"

The boy's indigo eyes barely gaze down and it before he immediately takes the bite for himself. His munching really makes him look childish as the treat is supposed to do. "I was never fond of cotton candy. I guess I just naturally prefer animal treats because of my quirk."

"Yeah, that's understandable." I stare off into the distance, eyeing the giant roller coaster looming in front of us. My heart quickens at the sight, the anticipation building inside me. "Tama, we gotta get on that coaster!"

At the word, his face goes completely blank. "C-Coaster?"

"Come on Tama, please?" I whine. "We've only been to all the carnival games and the mild rides, just one?" I know my poor friend has terrible fear of...everything, but I gotta have my fun too! And I wouldn't want to leave him out from my experiences, nor would I want to leave him alone in this crowded place.

His quivering figure attempts to breath in a sigh. "O-Okay, but you have to hold onto me when we get on, okay? You know how much I hate that h-high up."

I loop an arm around his shoulder, pulling him all-too eagerly towards the coaster. "I'll be right next to you! It won't be that scary, I promise!" I don't know if he believes me, but he keeps in pace with me as I speed-walk over.

Once we get there, we find the line is a good twenty minute wait to get in. My feet tap impatiently in the concrete floor. Tamaki and I are polar opposite friends; I'm the loudmouth while he's more reserved, I take risks while he keeps to the safe route, I chase more thrilling adventures while he'd rather keep to the more tame ones. I don't mind putting his comfort first most of the time, but the one thing I can't give up is being at an amusement park and not going on the coasters. They practically call to me, dangling themselves in front of me while screams entice me with promises of thrill. It's like the architects know how to attract crazies like me.

When I open my mouth to comfort Tamaki - who's staring up at the coaster like he's about to die - the person behind him catches my attention. My lips form into a solid line and I grab my friend's forearm just a hint rougher than I usually do.

The boy snaps out of his reverie quickly. He understands the gesture and leans in. "What's wrong?"

"I think the guy standing behind us has been following us for a while," I whisper low enough so only he can hear. Tamaki's eyes widen and he's about to turn around when I make a face for him to freeze and not look back. "Just act natural, I'll take care of it if he tries something."

Not long after we keep carrying on our conversation, Tamaki takes a call on his phone and the guy finally speaks up. "This ride must be pretty swell if the line's so long for it."

"Yeah, I'm pretty excited for it," I respond. As long as his intentions are still up in the air, I'll be polite to him. No reason to be hostile right off the bat.

Rocking back and forth on his feet, he asks, "Do you come here often?"

I shrug. "Not really, only every once in a while. My work and school keep me busy."

"I see." He pauses for a moment. "So are you too busy for a relationship?"

Oh for fuck's sake. "I'm not in the market for a boyfriend right now, thank you."

The guy scoots just a tiny bit closer to me. "Come on, I'm sure you'd change your mind if you got to know me better. We could just talk for now."

He's persistent. I suppress the urge to roll my eyes into the back of my head. "I don't think that's a good idea." I don't even want to look this guy in the face. Maybe if I show how uninterested I am, he'll get the message and back off. I move up in the line when the people in front of us step forward.

"You won't know until you try." He touches my arm, "Just give me-"

I back my arm away and I glare holes through his skull. "Why are you touching me?"

"You just weren't looking, I thought it was pretty rude," he shrugs.

I'm almost appalled by how innocent he thinks he is. How is that okay? "We just met two seconds ago, you have no right to touch me at all."

The guy lets out a dry laugh. "I don't know why you're being so uptight and closed off."

Bitch, did you just call me 'uptight'??!! I'm about to punch this guy right up to the front of the line.

"H-Honey? What's wrong?"

My head whips around a full 180 degrees to Tamaki, who's finished his call and his eyes are shifting between me and the stranger. "I-Is he bothering you?"

My stomach does a flip recalling the term of endearment he used earlier. Thankfully, I know what he's trying to do. "Yeah, babe. This guy won't leave me alone." I shift over towards my friend and grasp his arm. If we're gonna play this, we're gonna play it right.

The strange guy analyzes the two of us, shifting his eyes back and forth. "This guy is your boyfriend?" He's clearly unconvinced.

"Yeah, you got a problem?" I cock an eyebrow, slightly stepping up to assert my dominance.

After a few more awkward seconds, the guy snickers. "You're dating this guy? You're barely touching him and he's shaking like a little bitch."

The fury shoots right through me. No one calls my Tamaki a little bitch and gets away with it. I'm aboutta end this man's whole life-

Tamaki places a calming hand on my own before I can fully explode on him. "I-It's okay, sweetie, it doesn't hurt me."

The term immediately washes me over with warmth that cools down my hot anger. Not to mention my heart's beating a little faster at this affectionate contact.

The moment breaks when the idiot in front of us laughs again. "You guys can't be dating. You don't even look like a couple."

"We don't have to be all over each other making out to look like a couple," I roll my eyes. I've had just about enough of this guy. "Some of us can keep it in our pants, you know."

"Yeah, but you guys haven't done anything couple-y."

I snort. What an idiot. "First of all, thanks for admitting you're a stalker who's been watching us. Second of all, we shared snacks earlier, I'm sure you must have caught us."

"Big whoop, that's nothing!" An evil smirk spreads across his face. "Why don't you two kiss, right here and now? Prove me wrong."

The rogue thought of kissing Tamaki enters my mind like a bullet and my heart skips a beat. I shake myself out of that. "We don't need to take orders from someone like you. You probably get off to that because you're so lonely, don't you?"

"No need to take it that far, sweetie-"

That's the last straw. Before I can do anything, Tamaki's wraps a tentacle around the guy's body, lifting him up and constricting his movement temporarily. His gaze is blank and he nods for me to go ahead with my confrontation. We make a pretty good team. I turn back to the guy, pinning him with my deadliest glare. "You've crossed so many lines today, Mr. Harasser. We've both had just about enough of your stupidity. If you don't want us to report you to police for sexual harassment, you'd better run along and stop following us. Or else my boyfriend here will dangle you off the side of this roller coaster, got it?"

One look into mine and Tamaki's eyes removes the color from the guy's face. Knowing Tamaki, he's got his hero face on, and I know first hand how intimidating he can look when he does that. As soon as Tamaki lets him wriggle free, he runs off to the back of the line alone.

"What an ass," I huff, the image of the guy running with his tail between his legs amusing to me. "Some guys just don't know when to quit." I cling onto Tamaki's arm and rest my head on his shoulder. "Good thing you were here to help me get rid of him, hm?"

"Y-Yeah, I guess." His face turns five shades redder.

It feels weird to be close to him like this now, even if we've shared our personal space like this many times before. I'm reminded of Tamaki calling me "honey" earlier, sending a fresh set o f shivers through me. I never knew I needed to hear that from him before. Tamaki's always been a great friend and we've become so close. I never realized just how close we've gotten.

"Y-You know," he scratches his ear with his free hand, "I'm kind of...glad I came with you today. I don't think I'd like it if someone else was with you to act as your fake boyfriend..."

Oh. That's a pretty bold and straightforward statement, and it's coming from Tamaki of all people. The implication finally hits me at once and my own face heats up. "You mean-"

Tamaki grabs my arm suddenly and starts shaking even more violently than normal. We'd made it to almost the front of the line, almost about to get into the car. "I-I-If I s-survive this," he gulps, "I'll finish. B-But you have to h-hold onto me like you promised!"

I knit our fingers together, the rush of both getting on the coaster and hearing what he has to say mixing together, even I can't help shaking slightly in anticipation. I don't let go of his hand as we get on and secure ourselves in. His eyes are screwed shut as we're slowly pulled to the top of the hill. I squeeze tighter on his hand. "You can do this Tamaki, I'm right here."

He lets out a cute little whine when the car was pulled just enough to the front for us to look down at the impending fall.

"Just scream and let it all out!"

The coaster finally pushes forward and my stomach lurches. Tamaki lets out the loudest scream out of everyone on the ride with us. The rush is intense, our bodies flinging and the wind gusting against us. I start screaming myself out of pure pleasure, still grasped on his hand that's squeezing the blood out of mine. Even as we pull into the start again and we're unlocked, Tamaki's eyes are sealed shut.

"Tama, it's over, open your eyes now," I giggle.

"I-I'm too dizzy."

I help steady him to get up and out, even wrapping his arm around my shoulder to steady him as we descend the steps away from the ride. I can feel his entire body shaking down to his knees. "How do you feel?"

It takes a few moments of scrambled mumbles before he can say something coherent. "That was scarier than raiding the Shie Hassaikai."

I chuckle again at his nerves. "At least you're a little more guaranteed to live from this. And you survived."

As we finally cross through the exit gate, he sweeps me aside, albeit shakily, pushing our foreheads together. "I did," he breathes before pressing his lips to mine. I hold onto his back and pull him closer, melting into his quivering kiss. My heart beats faster after just calming down from the ride.

Tamaki pulls away from me and pushes his forehead on my shoulder. "Give me a second, my head hurts."

His little whining softens me, threading my hands in his hair to calm him down. "It's okay, baby boy, take a second."

He stiffens at my pet name for him. He lifts his head up and finally gazes at me. "Y-You're pretty great, as a friend and a person. You're the only person I'd want to be a pretend boyfriend for, and I hope I'm the only one you'd do that for me too."

"Why would I want to be fake girlfriend for someone I want to actually date?"

His face turns even more crimson in response to that. "O-Oh. Okay."

"But if we're gonna date, you're gonna have to get used to going on roller coasters with me," I tease him.

And just like that, all that blush drains from his face and he shivers again.

I can't help kissing his cute little nose and wrapping my arms around him. "I'm just playing with you, Tama. But at least every once in a while, just so you can get over your fear. And you'll get a kiss and ice cream afterwards."

The adorable smile on his face threatens to melt my knees into mush. "Okay!"

#tamaki x reader #tamaki fluff #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #amajiki tamaki #female reader #request #tamaki imagine #tamaki scenario #mha tamaki #bnha tamaki #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

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a-forgotten-spirit · 4 years

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Love Isn’t An Illusion (4)

Pairing: Todoroki x Bakugou, Todoroki x Reader x Bakugou, VERY SLOW BUILD

Summary: Training with the class, dealing with Mineta, waiting for parents and then studying with the class.

Words: +-6500

Warnings: bad parents, the video about saving Stain, training, using reader quirk during training, Mineta, changing rooms, tight clothing for hero costume, making an illusion in the boys changing room to yell at Mineta, talking to Todoroki, crying, sad, fighting with parents, slight breakdown, excessive/destructive studying, being yelled at by parents, anxiety, depression, not sleeping.

Tagged: @kittycatspervertedheart @lemorrite @gwendlynn @marleps @thicctati2 @saitamastamaticsoup @succulent-momma @aurorahoneybuns @imjusttireddudes @misconceptualised @ochabby @katsukisuwus @gayverlinq @star-witchs-blog @fallbb123

A/N: I wrote this for the fans. I do not own My Hero academia or the characters, I don’t own most of the plot for this story, I had watched the show and re-written the dialogue and plot as if the reader was the main character. Everything is centred around the reader. Please comment, makes me happy. Ask if you wish to be tagged.

Masterlist

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

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Chapter 4

The week was over, though I hadn’t slept in days. Stain and I’s conversation running through my head like a mantra, I heard some of my other classmates had helped in areas around the city, I was happy for them. I didn’t want to go back to school, not while I was like this, coming home was nothing major. My parents ignored me still caught up about how I hadn’t gone to those interviews, not that I cared for what they thought anymore. I know I wasn’t meant to use my quirk without permission in school or out of school for that matter but as I walked through the school I made it seem like I wasn’t there. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I had gotten messages and a few calls from Deku but not right now.

Coming into the room I sat down making sure to not bump into anyone and listening to everyone's conversations. Both Sero and Kirishima were laughing at Bakugou, from what I had heard he was interning at ‘Best Jeaniest’s’ agency number four hero was extremely impressive. They were laughing at his hair, slicked down and neat, not the usual explosive hair he had. I thought it was cute but I did much prefer the raging hair, it suited him far more than this.

“Stop laughing, my hair has gotten used to this and I can’t get it back the right way. Did you not hear me, I’ll kill you both” he was shaking as the words grit out of his mouth, I couldn’t imagine just how much product was in his hair right now. His hand was open and ready for one step too far from the boys and I was sure he would kill them.

“I’d like to see you try pretty boy” Sero laughed out, mouth open wide and eyes bulging from his head. It was nice to know Bakugou did have friends, he may be very high and mighty but I couldn't imagine other people in the class saying those things and getting away with it.

“What did you call me” and just like that his hair was back and spiky as usual. I liked his spiking hair, going in every single direction and not caring for looks. Even though he suited the style. My hand came to lightly play with my hair H/C locks smooth and silky to the touch. I don’t think I could pull off that hair but it was nice to look at, I wonder what it felt like. He seemed to take immense care of himself so I didn’t doubt his hair would be skipped.

“Awesome, you got to face actual villains. I’m super jealous” my eyes moved from the still laughing duo and an angry screaming Bakugou to Mina. She was smiling and looking at Jirou, she helped those people in the hostage situation I had heard.

“Well, I didn’t fight. All I did was help people evacuate” I was going to speak up but my voice was caught. She shouldn’t belittle her internship, it was a lot to even do that. When you’re in such a situation, you do what you have too even if it is only escorting people to safety. “And provide logistical support” it was still more than some, she should be proud. Her voice was quiet and she was playing with her earphone jack, twirling it around her finger.

“Still sounds like so much fun” Mina was leaning over the table as she called this fact out. She was always so happy and upbeat. I wondered what that felt like, to be so excited for like and things. Sure I was excited to be a hero but with that conversation still running through my mind, it was still a lot to take on.

“I spent the whole time training and cleaning the ship deck,” Tsu thought out loud, her finger placed against her chin as the two other girls listened in. “Oh there was this one day we caught a bunch of drug smugglers,” she said it so calmly that I almost laughed. The two girls seemed to freeze, mouths open and shocked looks. “What about you Ochako, how was your week” when I turned to see Uraraka tense and looking ready to fight I too stopped in my tracks.

“I’d say it was very enlightening” her voice was so cold and I swear to whoever could hear me she had this menacing purple glow around her. She was in a fighting stance then began to punch the air. She must’ve had a very good week if she was so in the zone on a Monday morning.

“I think she found her fighting spirit” Tsu croaked out. I couldn’t agree more, she looked so ready and I wished I could have seen her train. Maybe joined in, not to say my training wasn’t enough. It was more than enough, Snipe and I bonded and got to know each other. I hoped he would still like me later on down the track for more internships.

“Yeah, that battle hero must have been something else” I had to agree with that statement. He seemed nice enough even though Gunhead was a big guy and the name suggested a powerhouse. I had spoken to him and he seemed kind and compassionate, just what Uraraka needed.

“After one week she’s like a totally different person” Kaminari pointed put hands out on the table and looking to be leaning away from where the girl was punching the air, the aura still moving around her. She wasn’t different, just more focused I thought.

“Different. Don’t be fooled Kaminari” Mineta waved his finger back and forth in front of them but then, his eyes widened and he licked his lips a scowl coming to face “All women are demons at heart they just hide their true personalities behind pretty faces” he whispered out. His teeth were chattering and he was shaking?

“What did Mount Lady do to you” Kaminari questioned, gripping the smaller boys arms in a firm grip bringing him back to reality “Everyone at my internship loved me. It was kinda great” I enjoyed my internship even with all the inconveniences and the little mishap partway through the week. “Now if you wanna talk about the ones who changed was those three” Kaminari pointed to Iida, Midoriya and Todoroki conversing at the back of the room “and Y/N”

“Oh yeah the Hero Killer, did you guys see the video that kept getting taken down. Y/N saved him” Sero pointed out, Bakugou having a tight grip on the boys collar his other hand occupied with Kirishima.

“I’m glad you guys and Y/N made it back alive. Seriously” Kirishima sighed out, he looked so calm even though Bakugou had him by the collar though he didn’t seem to be short of breath so he wasn’t choking him which was good.

“I worried for you too” the soft voice of Yaoyorozu spoke out, everyone moved to the back of the classroom and I was nervous someone would bump into me at my desk, no one did.

“It was a good thing Endeavor showed up and saved you guys. Y/N too, her quirk is super powerful. I saw that she stood between Midoriya and the Hero Killer” Sato's voice seemed to be deep but also light in a way. Strange but I liked it, it was calming.

“So cool” Toru wiggled around, her clothes moved as she moved her hands. Her voice sounded like she was interested and seemingly up to date on the topic. It was hard to gauge an emotion or expression with no face to look at. “Just what I’d expect from the number two hero” even though he had done nothing and it was all a cover-up, not that they could hear me.

Todoroki’s eyes fell just as his head did “Yeah, that’s right” he wasn’t very good at lying, he looked uncomfortable and on edge. He had to learn how to lie properly, no one batted an eye but I could see the truth. My heart fluttered knowing I could see the difference. “He saved us” no he didn’t but, just something they had to let go. I got videoed and we couldn’t lie about that. Plus that mysterious video someone taped and posted.

“Did you guys hear the news about the Hero Killer” my ears perked and my eyes left the dual coloured ones of Todoroki and turned to Ojiro instantly. What was he talking about, what news? Had he broken out? “Everyone has been saying he’s somehow connected to the league of villains” I froze, he couldn’t be right? He seemed far to prideful to work with them. He was on a mission, he went on about ridding the world of fake heroes, he wouldn’t associate with them but then again the Nomu were there at the same time. “Can you imagine how frightening it would have been if that creep was there when they attacked the USJ” I didn’t want to think about it if I was honest. I didn’t like thinking about that day. Though he only went after heroes, I don’t think he would have done much damage to us more so the teachers.

“He’s scary, yeah but, did you see him in that weird video” again the video was brought up. I hated that video, it showed me helping him. My ear to his chest and then as I tried to help him. I had watched it so many times, every time it came up I watched it at least five times. Not that the real thing wasn’t constantly playing on a loop in my head. “It’s all over the internet. Stains’ a pretty evil villain but super tenacious, he’s almost kinda cool don’t you guys think” Kaminari pointed out. No, no I didn’t think that at all. He was crazy, totally and utterly bonkers. Mnirodriya called his name and it seemed to snap him back “Oh dude” his mouth was covered as he looked to Iida.

“No, it’s fine. He is quite a tenacious villain. I understand why people might think he was cool but, instead of helping the world his views lead him to cold-blooded murder. No matter his motive killing cannot be condoned” Iida was right, it doesn’t matter your views or thoughts on anything you can’t kill people and everything will be fine. That’s not how the world works nor should it would like that at all. “To keep anyone else from suffering like me. Well” his arm was up straight and his voice rose to shout the next words “I promise, I will strive to be the perfect hero” I was glad he was getting back to his normal self again. He looked up to his brother so much, so many people did.

“Speaking of recent events. Where’s Y/N she’s usually here before most people” Kaminari voiced and then looked around as did everyone. I sighed and let the illusion fall, all eyes turned to me instantly. “Wait have you been there the whole time” he shouted.

“Sorry” I whispered and looked down scratching the back of my head, “Said recent events were quite a lot and it’s taken some time to” I paused and moved my hands around “Accept them” I saw a few nods.

“You were in the middle of the city fight, weren’t you. I saw the videos of you taking down the Nomus’” Jirou turned and smiled. I nodded slowly and then came the yelling. Mina hadn’t seen the videos and was yelling that she was quite jealous of my activities.

“Yeah, I was Snipe’s sidekick for a week. I told all the heroes that wanted me. I wanted to be treated like a hero not a tool for a week” again more yelling and questioning. Most said they thought I was kidding when I left the first time. I couldn’t blame them. “I trained and went on patrol. Even keeping a villain alive, it was a long week” I closed my eyes and smiled. No one other than the three boys at the back of the room knew I had, had a personal conversation with the said villain. I wanted to keep it that way.

“Well now everyone. Class is about to begin” Iida shouted and I mouthed a thank you, I was met with a firm nod. I didn’t want to talk about it, it was quite a lot to deal with especially alone. I would manage. Everyone made their way to their respected seats quickly still quietly chatting away. Though Iida continued to shout.

We were asked to change into our hero costumes and I was so excited. Sure some had seen it but I loved the new look. The iridescent colours and smoke looking mask. I loved it all. All Might was teaching us today and I smiled walking out of the changing room. I got a few looks and I walked down to the training area, my hips swaying and a smile on my face.

“I am here” All Might shout loud and clear for everyone to hear, his hands on his hips. I hoped that one day I could shout something like that and everyone wouldn’t be scared. Everyone would know I was there to help. “I hope you are ready to return to lessons. Today it’s hero basic training, it feels like I haven’t seen you in a while” he wasn’t wrong it had been quite some time. A week at least though I had spoken to him once when I was dropping off something at the end of my internship. “Welcome back. Now listen carefully to what’s in store, we are going to be conducting a little race. Taking everything you’ve learned from your internships and applying it to this rescue training” he explained. Rescue training I admit was important but I didn’t like it at all. I wasn’t good with words and people annoyed me quite a bit but it was part of being a hero.

“If it’s rescue training shouldn’t we be at the USJ instead” Iida yelled hand straight in the air. He still had bandages on and the memory that he might have permanent damage ran through my mind. He was always so confident and pointed out things, I had to thank him some time for talking so much that the teachers didn’t pick on me.

“That facility specialises in disasters. As I said earlier this is a race” the way he spoke those last few words, head tilted down and smile wide I got nervous. Were we racing him because if so, I was going to quite enjoy making myself invisible and running away? “So prepare, you are about to step inside field gamma. Inside is an area full of factories, an intricate labyrinth. Good luck finding your way around. You’ll be competing in groups of five, each group starts on the outskirts of the model city. I’ll send out a distress signal and you do what you must to come to save me. Whoever finds me first, wins. But try to keep the property damage to a bare minimum please” I laughed lightly as his eyes changed from looking at all of us to only looking at Bakugou who was now looking away a scowl etched on his face. His quirk was strong, very strong but his quirk was also destructive which was a problem.

“Tch, why are you pointing at me?” Bakugous’ voice was low and croaky. He was offended by the poor thing. He was looking away not even bothering to make eye contact as I smiled laughing silently. I didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his anger.

“Alright first group get to your places” and then we were off. Splitting up. Deku, Sero, Mina, Iida and Ojiro. The rest of us were moved in front of a TV screen where we could watch the playthrough. I had to learn everyone's attacks and weaknesses...for future reference of course.

Everyone began to talk about who they believed was going to get to All Might first. Sero was at an advantage of simply being able to go over the buildings. Mina couldn’t destroy a lot, Midoriya I wasn’t too sure about. Ojiro could jump around and Iida was fast so they all had fast quirks. This would be something very interesting to watch.

I ignored what everyone was saying. I needed to pay attention, I had to watch them closely in case they made us do it again and we had to fight them myself. I needed to watch them. Once it began Sero was the first to fly off, just like I predicted above everything. Then Mina skidded along the top of the buildings, she was fast. Ojiro on his tail and then Iida running along the ground. This was going to be a race of speed not so much anything else. Then out of nowhere came Midoriya, quick and jumping around on top of everyone. He looked like Bakugou and bit and from the angered look on his face he knew it too. Then he fell. The match was over quickly, Sero won just like I said. He knew his quirk too well and the fact he could easily maneuver through the place was definitely on his side. This was important to remember all their strengths.

I was in the last group. I was up against Bakugou, Todoroki, Uraraka and Tsu. We were on the outskirts and I smirked. This would be easy, when we were allowed to go I watched as everyone began to quickly run off to get to All Might. I looked at the Camera and waved, then sent out an illusion, Cameras could only see the illusion.

“Where did All Might go” I was running along a bridge to his spot, quick and fast. “Dammit Y/N” I could hear Bakugou yell then more explosions. The rules never stated I couldn’t use my quirk to confuse them. I was running full speed as I ran towards All Might who was smiling at me.

Jumping down I let the illusion fade and down I was in front of him as the others landed and I got the sash. “Your quirk is so good” Uraraka looked down painfully her arms swinging by her sides as she sighed. “I thought I had a chance”

“Sorry” I called out and leaned to one side. I could see the angered face of Bakugou as I smiled at him, he huffed and I shrugged. “I like to win” was the last thing I said as the class was over. I let everyone walk along another bridge with me so they didn’t have to walk the whole way to the entrance.

Jumping off I was met with congratulations, soon after we were sent to the changing rooms. I stretched as I walked, my hips swaying. An unfortunate side effect of wearing a skintight suit. I sighed out bringing my arms down and rolling my neck. I had gotten complimented on my new outfit and I flushed instantly. Sure I expected someone to notice but the way Toru went on about how pretty it was and how good I looked, then Mina and Tsu added in their thoughts and then it was all the girls. I couldn’t help but blush.

In the changing rooms, I was getting undressed when I saw all the girls crowd around a little hole. I tilted my head walking over as I pulled my skirt up to my legs not having put my shirt on. I watched as Jirous’ earphone jack went straight through the hole. I could hear Mineta talk about what he wanted to see and I grimaced. I was guessing Jirou hit something at the scream we all heard.

“Thanks, Kyoka” Toru spat out. I was so disgusted that the little pervert would try something like that. I could hear Iida going off at him and I didn’t think it was enough, he shouldn’t be in this course if this is how he acted. Jirou had her hands around her body as if to somehow cover herself.

“Despicable, we will close up this hole immediately” Yaoyarozu huffed out, she had a very angry look on her face and I was sure my face mirrored hers. I was pissed, how low did he have to be to try something like that.

“I’ll have it closed, for now, you can get changed Jirou. He can’t see in” I was met with a smile and then used an illusion to block the hole. “Just give me a moment” I whispered and then heard a scream as an illusion came into the boys' locker room, I could see if I wanted to but instead I only created the illusion.

“You are honestly disgusting” I looked to Mineta, the illusion was clothed, I made sure to put that in as I looked down at the boy who was still standing in front of the hole. “If you ever try something like that again, I will personally make sure you know the full extent of my quirk” with those words the illusion faded.

“Good one. Can you see through it” Uraraka asked and I flushed immediately as I moved to place on my shirt. I wasn’t looking at any of them and I couldn’t blame her for asking.

“If I think hard enough yes. But an illusion isn’t me so no I didn’t see anything though I would have liked to do a bit more damage than yelling if I'm honest” I smiled and heard a group of laughter as I buttoned up my shirt before tucking it into my skirt. The skirt was shorter then I would have liked but that was a price I had to pay by not trying it on before I bought it. It was of a decent length and no one could see anything but paranoia was a key factor.

Soon it was the end of the day and I was off on my way home. It was afternoon as I walked out of the main building and looked at my phone seeing a message. “Picking you up, wait” that was the only thing my mother had written. I was going to tell her not to worry but I knew it would just lead to drama and most likely another fight. Moving to a side bench I sat down and then waited. I continued to wait and wait and wait. An hour and a half later I was now staring at the parking lot waiting for my mother to arrive.

“Y/N” I heard and turned and saw Todoroki standing behind me, book bag in hand and staring at me confused. I looked to Todoroki trying to see any emotion “Why are you still here, school ended hours ago” he commented. I could ask him the same thing.

“Oh, well, you see” I stuttered, should I lie. Should I say I'm in an after school group, no he might ask which one. He could see my hesitance and my words fell “My mother told me to wait” I whispered and looked down to my phone. All the messages were delivered but none had been replied too. “I’m sure she’s just caught up with something” even though I could hear the lie in my tone.

He heard it too as I nodded and looked back to my phone “Do you want me to wait with you” I felt like my heart stop. He was so nice, yet so quiet. I had seen him lose his cool though, at the hospital. I moved to meet his eyes “I’m happy too” he spoke as I looked down again.

I considered it, it was lonely and I needed to make friends. What was I thinking, I softly shook my head “No” I breathed out, licking my lips, shaking my head as I fakely smiled “No, it’s ok. You go home” I tried to smile again but it was small and didn’t reach my eyes.

“Are you ok?” he asked and I tilted my head confused “You’re crying” I paused my hand coming to my eyes, I was indeed crying. Tears fell down my face as he moved to sit next to me. I quickly wiped my eyes.

This was so embarrassing “I’m so sorry” I whispered trying to desperately stop crying in front of him. This was extremely awkward and my eyes hurt a little after as I rubbed them harshly. “It’s just been a long week is all” I smiled.

“There’s no need to apologise. It’s ok to cry” no it wasn’t, it was not ok to cry especially in front of a classmate you’ve had one conversation with. I was so embarrassed I could feel my hands shake, I put them in my lap so he wouldn’t see. “You don’t have a good relationship with your parents do you” I looked at him quickly, he had a face as he understood and I sighed out and nodded. “I don’t either” he was always so honest not thinking twice about his words “I saw how your mother treated you after the festival” I nodded slowly.

“Yeah” I whispered dismissively “She’s just got a lot on and is always busy” I rubbed my shoulder subconsciously “She doesn’t mean it, I don’t think” my fingers dug into my skin as I nodded and tried to hold back my tears “She’s just” I paused and then let the air leave my lungs. “Her”.

“My dad isn’t the best” he admitted and I nodded agreeing. We spoke for a while, just talking and getting to know each other. It was fun to just talk to Todoroki. I found out he likes Cold Soba and wants to be the top hero to throw it in his dad's face.

“You should head off, it’s getting dark and I don’t want you going home when it is dark. My mother will be here soon, I'm sure of it” a little bit more persuading and he was off walking out of the school. Teachers left as I sat there and waited.

It was dark now and I was running low on battery as I tried to pass the time. I wasn’t worried as I was still on school grounds though I was getting angrier by the second now that most of the parking lot was empty. Then after almost four hours of waiting her car shows up, getting into the car I notice new nails and dyed hair.

“Did you go to the salon?” I asked as she began to drive off. No, I just hadn’t been paying attention right? I looked back seeing bags in the back seat, she just grabbed a few things earlier today on her break. Yeah, she wouldn’t make me wait four hours for no reason.

“Yes and” she commented brushing her hair behind her ear. We made it out of the parking lot as I was trying to reel in my anger, I could feel it rolling off me in waves. I was about two seconds away from losing my mind.

“So you made me wait at school for four extra hours, when I could've gotten home by myself, to what” I began throwing my arms around but making sure to not go on her side. I may be angry but I didn’t want her to crash. “Piss me off. Why would you make me wait if I could’ve just gone home” my voice was loud and I was yelling.

This started an argument, both of us yelling and her making excuse after excuse for no good reason. “I had shit to do Y/N” that didn’t excuse it. I hadn’t asked her to pick me up. I was fuming, my eye twitching “Besides I’m doing something nice for you, be grateful” she snapped her hair beginning to move.

“Grateful” I whispered “Grateful” I screamed, we were at a red light as she turned to me “Be grateful for having to wait four hours. My teachers and peers are looking at me in pity. Be grateful for you not talking to me for a week, what else should I be grateful for” I yelled my hands rising above my head “Please enlighten me” I finished and her hair was now moving around in the air, she was pissed but by god, I was about ready to pull the car onto the other side of the road. She turned to the road ignoring me “Wow would you look at that” I commented.

The rest of the drive was silent, as soon as the car stopped I grabbed my things opening the door and then slamming it harshly a loud bang is heard and yell from my mother. I opened the front door and my dad was angry already. How amazing.

“Where have you been?” he shouted and came to stand in front of me, chest puffed and nose flaring “I have been waiting for hours. No message, no call. Who were you with” I was about to talk when he stomped his foot “Tell me this second”

I was past my caring limit, past angry and past hysteria. I was so livid “Your wife made me wait at school for four hours while she went out shopping. If you were so worried, message me yourself for a change” as she walked in the door bags in hand I growled as she too began to scream at me. “Enough” I screamed and shook the house. My quirk running into my voice, both stilled. “Enough. I’m over this, I have had an extremely long week and I don’t want to deal with the two of you right now” with those words I stormed to my room.

Putting up a sound barrier, my quirk did work wonders sometimes. I screamed. I screamed and screamed and screamed. Placing myself into an endless box, I flipped and broke things that came to mind. When I was a little calmer I let the box fade as I sighed out. My room was fine, no damage done. I was livid, I was over this house. Over my parents caring only for themselves. I couldn’t bear it. I had to calm down. I had to be calm. I sighed and then got changed into something more comfortable.

Falling onto my bed with a huff I was glad I had locked the door as I was not in the least bit presentable at this given moment, hair a mess and only wearing a jumper and underwear with socks. I hadn’t studied at all today, lifting myself from the bed I moved to my desk getting my books and pens ready.

I had muted the class group chat but when I got a notification on it I knew someone had said my name. Putting in the thumbprint I moved to look at the message. It wasn’t just me, it was ‘@everyone’ Kaminari was asking for help. Within seconds he had gotten a few replies. I was the top student in the class, something I had to keep.

Putting on some light music I hummed along while I studied. Pages upon pages as I sat at my desk, the music changing and shuffling. I made sure to put on the ‘Calm’ list when studying. Mellow music with calm beats and slow lyrics. I loved it, it helped to stay focused. I skipped dinner, something I had been doing the last few days. When I considered myself done it was well past midnight and I knew I had to awaken in only a few hours. I had been overworking myself the past few days both physically and mentally.

Getting up from my desk I stretched my back and then turned off the light. Heading to bed for at least a few hours. This routine went on for a while, I was getting more and more tired. I was showing up on time but later and later until I was walking in with Aizawa. I was using all my effort to participate and pay attention in class. I had helped Todoroki and Midoriya study a few times, Kirishima, Sero and Kaminari tagging along then it turned into a half a class thing.

“Y/N you have such neat notes” Kaminari complimented and with hooded and under shaded eyes I thanked him. I helped whoever needed it, I began talking to them more often and even Bakugou had tagged along. I ended up helping him a few times even though I played it off as he was helping me for the others.

“How does someone have the mental capacity to take these kinda notes in class and then study” Mina called out throwing her arms in the air and her head falling back with a cry. I was sitting next to Bakugou and Todoroki, I should say in the middle of them when I received a call.

I didn’t even look at the caller as I tiredly answered “Hello” it was silent for a few moments as I yawned and held the bridge of my nose. I could see everyone being quiet as I waited for a reply.

“Where are you” came a scream and I could see I was getting a few stares. With a confused glance and pulling the phone from my ear, I looked at the caller ID and saw it was my mother. I nodded slowly and put it back. “Answer me” she screamed.

“I am at a study group with people from my class” I answered calmly, I didn’t have the energy to deal with her today. I hadn’t slept in days and my anxiety was through the roof at this point. “I told you I was going, you said and I quote ‘I couldn’t care less’” I didn’t care who could hear I was tired and on my last brain cells of living.

“Don’t expect me to pick you up” she shouted, it sounded like she was in the car. I put my hand up to the class and stood, stumbling over a little way away from the table to have this conversation somewhat private.

“I didn’t” I answered and leaned against a wall, not quite able to hold myself up at this given point of time. I sighed out and rolled my eyes as the yelling continued.

“What time will you be home” as I was about to answer I heard a beep “Idiot” so she was driving, I rubbed my eyes just trying to keep them open. “Answer me” another scream and I pulled the phone away from my ear for a moment to not go deaf.

“When it’s over, I have keys. I always have keys” I answered softly. If she even cared a little she would be able to hear just how tired I was and how much I wanted this conversation to end. More screaming. “I need to go” then all went silent.

“Whatever. You know what, whatever. Do as you wish, as per usual” then she hung up. I pulled the phone away looking at the call symbol disappear and sighed. I ran my fingers through my hair. It was only just after dinner, I could go home but I wasn’t in the mood to deal with her but I was so tired. I had to study, I sighed, I had to study.

Now I was angry, walking over I threw my phone on the table with a loud bang, not caring for the device at all as I grabbed my book and began to write. I was writing so fast, I was so mad, so burnt out. I was writing science formulas and going down the page as I changed colours and wrote my notes as I usually did.

“Are you ok?” Kirishima asked slowly and I looked up, eyes lidded, the bags beneath my eyes felt like they were pulling my eyes down. I nodded with pursed lips “You don’t look ok” he added and I heard a few agree.

“Just a normal day, nothing to worry about” I whispered and I could see the worried faces begin to blossom. I didn’t like the attention and swallowed, I looked down and saw all my calculations and noticed I had done an entire science calculation in anger. A hard one too. Dropping my pencil I rubbed my eyes.

“When was the last time you slept?” Sero asked his smile fading but teeth still showing. Now everyone seemed interested in this question, I too was interested in the answer.

I thought about it “Monday” I said questioningly “I think I slept on Monday. What day is it” I asked and looked down, it was Thursday. “Saturday I had an hour, I think I had about half an hour Monday” I answered and nodded “Or was that the Saturday study breaks” I whispered and shrugged “I don’t know” I answered.

“That’s not good” Bakugou spoke in a calm voice. I turned to him and nodded slowly. My eyes closed for a second and I shook my head to bring myself back. I could hear people saying I should go home and sleep, eat something. “You haven’t been eating either” Bakugou pointed out.

“I have to study” I swallowed and all conversations died down. I shook my head “I can’t fall behind” I whispered and I felt the air get sad. I began to highlight and write and the conversation came back into the room. Laughter and other things. I sat in between Bakugou and Todoroki just doing my work, helping them a few times before returning. It was well into the night when we all departed. I was packing up my things as I almost fell over being caught by packing up Bakugou. “Sorry” I whispered.

I watched as people watched me stumble out of the room and then down the hall. I accidentally bumped into Aizawa who was holding papers and almost fell over again “Y/N” he asked and I was off again down the hall.

The next few days began the same until Monday morning when the class ended. I was having trouble staying awake through the whole class but I had to pay attention to every single second. I didn’t have time to fail. I needed to do this. I needed to pass, I needed to do well. I could only sleep on the day of the exam.

“Alright, that’s it for today, you only have one more week before the exam” I was smiling ear to ear, I could sleep. One week, I had to sleep. I had to be fully rested for the exam, I was so tired. “I’m sure you’re all studying constantly, right?” I nodded. Yes, yes I was. “Don’t forget to keep training, the written exam is only one element” no sleep for me then. I had been training but not enough, I had learned skills but I needed to put them into action. I had to do well, there was not an option for failure. “There’s also the practical portion to worry about. Good luck” and with those words the door was closed and my anxiety shot through the roof.

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Chapter 5

108 notes · View notes

isitandwonder · 4 years

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Hi. Did you, at some point, believe in Charmie and A&T relationship? Because you have written so superb fics bout them (dont mentioning looot of sex between them in those fics 😊 ). And now it looks like you are quite disgusted by charmie fandom and also by Armie too.. So when did you change your mind (if there of course was any changing of mind)?

Hi nonnie!

I think I talked about this before but anyway...

Yes, at some point at the end of 2017/beginning of 2018 when the promo was in full swing, I did believe there was/had been something happening between these two.

What started to change my mind though was in February 2018 when they returned to Crema and Liz was there and said they made Ford there (I remember we discussed her being at almost every awards red carpet and promo event before, as some kind of no homo device)... I was so confused. This couldn’t be right! T & A had been hanging out all by themselves during the filming, they’d been the only two English speaking people in town (lol, sorry, but Crema is not a small Sicilian village in the 1950s, I’ve been there), they’d bonded deeply... they told us all about that!

I’m still grateful to the person pointing out that Liz and Harper had been there most of the filming... then gradually more and more ‘came to light’: that Will had been there before filming, that Tim had hung out with some locals (even a kind of gf was mentioned), stuff like that. That started to burst my bubble.

I confess, I had a shit day accepting that it had all been a fantasy because at that point they seemed so cute and right together. They sold that pretty well and I’m not mad at them - it was me who got in too deep, they just promoted their film. And wasn’t it easy to see all these bluring lines and believe in them?

Anyway, once you see the ‘cracks’ you start to question and see more. Things like Armie cancelling the Asia promo tour; saying he ‘sucked dick on film’, reducing cmbyn to THAT.

So I accepted it had been just a fantasy, but still shipped them as in ‘I like to imagine them together though I know it’s not real’. That’s were most of my fics come from, because these stories are pure fiction; I made it all up.

I think then came TIFF and those IG stories - they were clearly taking the piss at shippers, but in a kind way, saying ‘we know what’s going on and don’t mind’. What secret couple posts such stories, I ask you? So I felt validated in my shipping because they were okay with it.

When did I fall out of love with Armie though? I think it started right after the Oscars with above mentioned incidents. He was never my type anyway, I’m all here for the twinks :). He really only does things for me in the contrast he provides to Tim.

But then I learned more and more about him. His weird family. The way he was okay with how Liz pimped out their kids on her IG (because, come on, if a father doesn’t want that he can make it stop. Now it looks like he used Liz to sell the image of the perfect American family). His fights and ramblings on social media.

I still truly think there was a window for him that he could have used to stear his life and career in a different direction. I still believe cmbyn was a huge formative experience for him. For a while, something changed. Maybe it was all PR bla bla, but maybe not. He dared to accept a stage role after it. He made STBY, which I haven’t seen but people say he was very good in. But then he fell back into old patterns.

I became indifferent to Armie. But then he went to Saudi Arabia. And that was it. I can’t support someone who does what he did. Oliver would at least be whipped there, if not executed; Armie is a gay icon after portraying that beloved character. That’s a responsibility. All he had to do was not go to SA. I don’t expect big political statements - but why did he go there for a government event? Sorry, that was the final nail to the coffin.

But, you know, I still could ignore him. I followed Tim who is goofy and kind and weirdly smart and a great actor. I confess, I speculated about his sexuality (always traveling with male friends, no gf, taking his mum or sister to awards) - but then the Lily thing started - and I was happy for him. Someone his age, who knows about life in the limelight, with whom he could share his life.

And that’s when shit hit the fan. You know, I don’t know either Armie or Tim and what they do has no real influence on my life. But I knew a lot of people on here. I’d been with cmabn since 2017; I’ve written some well liked stories. But suddenly many people I used to have fun with, I thought were my friends, for which I wrote stories - they totally freaked out and behaved abysmal. They sent hate to Tim, to fellow fans. They bullied people really badly on here. Many deleted stories or blogs. And the worst was - these mutuals of mine thought that funny. They were proud of their shitty behavior. They started to scream at anyone doubting Tim was gay and in love with Armie. I got death threats for pointing out that maybe T&A played their friendship up a bit during cmbyn promo.

And almsot no one stopped these people destroying what had been a fun small fandom. Almost no one said to these people ‘Calm down, stop it’. Instead, these people, who used to be my mutuals, congratulated themselves on how efficiently they harrassed Tim on IG and fellow fans on here. I remember a person who told me to my face they loved me first ridiculing Tim and in the end sending vile hate to me.

That’s why I can’t support Charmie any longer. Because of these scumbags of fans. Hating on Tim is one thing, he has people working for him, sadly, these things happen to anyone in the industry. But hating on fellow fans just because some don’t follow a certain narrative BNFs made up? That, to me, is unforgivable.

Therefore, I now delight in how their King Armie is exposed as just another straight white man, cheating on his wife (and maybe doing worse). He debased himself going to SA, and I really don’t know how people who profess to love cmbyn and it’s message can still support him after that. Then he showed his privileged white ass during quarantine. And now those Biden tweets.

Seriously?

I know many on here just ignore these things. I can’t do that. I can’t forget what he did. I can’t support someone like that, who has no principles, either privately or politically (and maybe even sexually assaulted a woman).

And what really did it for me is that Armie can do all these despicable things and people still love and defend him him (a grown man and father of 33) - while Tim just has some gfs, or buys bagels, or carries his guitar - and people ridicule and hate and cancel him for it.

He did nothing wrong despite not living up to the narrative some very rude people who don’t know him wrote for him! But suddenly he’s the whipping boy for them. Because he’s into girls (like Armie, btw).

I just can’t with that. I can’t with the hate spread on here. I can’t with the motives showing behind this narrative, the sexism, the homophobia, the misogyny, the racism... I have to laugh when I read the eulogies some write here about the deep, true, pure, everlasting love between A&T that will win in the end (sorry, I’m not 13 anymore, and neither are the people who write this); I also can’t with the ideas of fucking someone so hard for real they can’t walk anymore (fic is different from reality, you know). It is either pathetic, embarrassing, or truly disturbing.

And I really, really hate these people breaking the fourth wall. You NEVER tweet to the actors about your conspiracy theories! You never harrass them on SM! You never insult their friends, business partners, SOs. And you don’t, never, ever bully some small local businesses during an economic crisis because they dared to burst your bubble.

If you support Charmie - you support this behavior. I don’t. And as being quiet has only led to the assholes taking over - I now try a different strategy. If people don’t like it they can unfollow.

Sorry, these last few days have shown just how unhinged some Charmies are. I know some had planned actions against Tim at The King red carpet in London (and thankfully didn’t realize them). I really don’t put it past some of them to now truly become violent against Tim at some event, in the name of the greater good of Charmie. They are completely bonkers.

I’ve seen threats against me and others in different forums as well. People want to make us pay for what we did (like, what did we do?). People call for their followers to take action against us. I have no idea what they will or can do, as I’ve lost so much within this fandom already (fics, followers, friends) but as they are truly mental I expect the worst. It’s not that I’m afraid but it’s still a weird feeling to see people talk about you like this... because you don’t like an actor. Or don’t think he’s gay...

Yeah, so, that was surely more than you bargained for.

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sup4l3e · 3 years

Text

I’m Crazy...

I’m insane...

I've lost the plot..

I'm hopeless..

I'm worthless..

I'm unloveable..

I'm pathetic..

I'm weird..

I'm strange..

I'm not okay...

I'm a psycho... (ok this one for me might be true... question it, go on try it! i dare you! ;0 lol)

BUT...

I AM!!!

Those are just some of the things my own mind tells me on a daily basis ... yes here it comes a blog about anxiety and depression... omg!! i know right the cliche of it all. like who hasnt written a blog about depression before ...

oh woe is me! am i right?

well... thats where you're wrong!

(before i start i want no sympathy im not writing this for the "aww's" and the "bless her" comments, i dont want sympathy or empathy ... this is simply because ive experienced and lived with depression for about 14 years and if i can help one person feel better about themselves by reading this or help someone realise that they are not alone then, well, i can rest easy tonight. If anything i want to empower people)

I lived for so many years in the dark, keeping all of this too myself and you know what it did? absolutely sweet FA apart from making me so much worse, it gave ammunition to those little voices, telling me all of the above, making them win!

i didnt realise until about 2-3 years ago that talking about my experiences and how im feeling would help.

i didnt realise until about 2-3 years ago how many other people around me were going through the EXACT same thing.

Two and a half years ago i was a completely different person, i was sheltered, i was in a very toxic relationship ... with myself. Most people would disagree, they'd say i was actually in a toxic relationship with my ex partner; but i cant blame him. Dont get me wrong he was toxic and looking back i was lucky to get out when i did, however i am also grateful too him, because he showed me exactly what i dont want in my life. and being fair to him i'd lived with my own toxicity in my mind for a good 10 years before him, so god forbid i'd give him the satisfaction of all that praise coz by god did i do a damned good number on myself without any of his help. ;)

In all honestly though, i do blame myself and my own mind, because 2 and a half years ago those little voices in my own head were the only thing i was listening to, they were winning. I wasnt listening to my family who were worried sick about me, who were practically begging me to tell them what was going on in my head, who i shut out, ignored and pushed away because i couldnt cope and you know what? they didnt deserve that at all. i live everyday regretting that i put them through that, So i now live everyday hoping to make them proud of me and live each and everyday with a promise. I do however live every day regretting that i didnt let them in earlier because if i had of i wouldnt have gone through the hell i did and i wouldnt have genuinely believed "this is what i deserve" "no-one else will love you" "no-one else wants you" "no-one cares"... i wouldnt have had too live a LIE.

The lie was people did love me, i just couldnt see it, people did care about me, i just wouldnt hear it, i needed their help, i just wouldnt speak it; because at that point in time my own mind was telling me that i didnt deserve any of that, and that nobody would ever want to do that for me. So i found sactuary in a toxic person who in the long run made me the strong person i am today because if it werent for him i'd never have the confidence in myself knowing what i overcame, and if it werent for him i wouldnt have seen my family and loved ones take charge and say "Leanne enough is enough" .. they gave me the metaphorical slap across the face i damned well needed and brought me back to reality, they categorically wouldnt allow that behaviour to carry on anymore and for that i will forever be grateful!

i made a promise to them that day that i would always tell them when i was getting low again and i made a promise to myself that day that i would keep them in the forefront of my mind in all of my decisions and i would also promise to try and help anyone else who was ever in the same position i was in.

depression is a funny old thing, everyone will experience some form of depression throughout their life, some people are genetically wired to experience it, some people will experience it from a young age, some dont experience it until very late on in life, some experience it from sad/happy/overwhelming life events, some unlucky souls just never find happiness. but no matter what EVERYONE will, at somepoint experience depression. in this blog im going to try and explain how i've learned to manage and cope with mine.

A bit of a backstory of my depression, it started around the age of 14-15, my depression. I dont know where it came from but it was right around the time of my GCSE's, college, boys, hormones, and being diagnosed with PCOS (for those of you who dont know what that is its Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome) i was told at a young age of 14 that i had some sort of syndrome which "would only matter when i got older", and that i had some of the prettiest ovaries the sonographer and gyneacologist had ever seen... in hindsight that wasnt going to be the compliment i first thought it was or the dismissive statement they portrayed it and brushed it off as, at all! THAT diagnosis changed alot of my life, however i will get back to that.

As most teens do around here I started studying for my GCSE's at just 15 years old. i was so stressed out i started actually hearing a screaming voice in my head. i suffered panic attacks daily, sometimes a few attacks a day, and that is where my anxiety started and then, good old depression smashed me in the face. i found the more stressed i became, the more id hear that screaming inside my head which then lead me to thinking " holy fucking shitballs im hearing voices im actually insane" therefore leading to more anxiety and panic attacks. so much so i would come home exhausted at 4pm everyday crawl into my pyjamas and climb into bed ready to do it all again the following day. (dont get me wrong i sat most nights on msn using the latest flashing emojis for EACH and EVERY letter of the alphabet, to the point it looked more like hyroglyphics and obviously getting the colours just right with the codes to make your name and status show in a rainbow. but that was all done in pj's curled up in bed because i couldnt manage much else ... however, if my mam asks i was revising and doing my homework THE. WHOLE. TIME, not talking to my friends about how hot a certain crush's bum looked that day ha! am i right! :P xoxo)

This was all a massive thing for me to go through aswell, due to the fact my dad has mental health issues and lives with schizophrenia, so, naturally at this point, you can imagine i was picturing myself in padlocked straight jackets and padded cells, talking away to the screaming voice in my head. the funniest thing was this screaming voice wasnt saying anything nasty or bad it was just my thoughts screaming at me like everything was angry, so genuinely just everyday life thoughts but those screaming at me, like, imagine thinking "leanne dont forget to pack your PE kit" but in the voice of Gunnery Sergeant Hartman from Full Metal Jacket... it. was. TERRIFYING!

Anyways, so yes high school was a massive contributor, then i made the choice to leave college at 17 because i, like many others, didnt have the faintest clue what i wanted to be when i grew up (little did i know id live the life of peter pan and neverland would be my sesh house OIOI!!!) In leaving college i went into full time work, as a 'temp job' until i decided what i was going to do... unfortunately, 8 and a half years later i was still their prisoner! haha, Nah, dont get me wrong i met some absolutely amazing people in that job and i did love it but i knew at the end, if i didnt get out it was going to kill me off. I'd gotten to the point in that job that i cried myself to sleep knowing i had to go back in the next day. that place contributed alot to my depression not because it was a bad job but because id made a wrong decision and was stuck there. i had to leave.

my next massive contributor, and this is where i divulge some of my REAL heartbreaks. PCOS - Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome or what i like to call Poly fucking Cystic fucking Ovary fucking Syndrome or "lets just fuck shit up!" (no im not bitter about it at all lol) because of this shit, from the very young age of 14 (like puberty isnt hard enough - spots, hair in places you never wanted boobs growing overnight, bleeding once a month being the biggest inconvenience) i have also had to deal with weight issues, hersuitism, depression, anxiety, hormones that sent me bat shit crazy, pain, headaches, fatigue, you name it i had it. but the biggest heartbreak, being told that id always have difficulty concieving and carrying a child. Anyone who knows me, and knows me well, knows i have always wanted to be a mam. (and not the sesh mam who looks after all my drunken idiotic friends on a night out ... coz i swear thats all they ever think i do lol) I mean a real mam, to a real baby. and being told at a young age that i had the prettiest ovaries the gyneacologist had ever seen wasnt the compliment i thought it was because it turned out my ovaries were absolutely covered in cysts. And for years i have tried to have a baby but alas nothing ever happens. i've had a few close calls and ive miscarried, or at least i think i did, the test came back positive but then about 3 days after that pretty pink second line, i had the heaviest period i had ever had for around 4 hours and then my body went back to normal as if nothing happened. it broke my heart.

They say the human body is delicate and intricate and should be treated with respect... i say its a machine and its a absolute twat at times, and why should i respect what in essence has caused me heartbreak from a young age FOR NO FUCKING REASON. but hey ho... life. goes. on.

so... thats my life story or just a snippet of it. and some of the reasons why i have depression.

heres how i cope...

Well, for a long time.. and i mean a VERY LONG time i didnt. i hid it, i hid away from the world. i drank alot. i avoided family, i avoided my best friends, i avoided anything that would have brought me back to reality.

For a long time though, thats what i needed. now im not saying running away from your issues is easy and thats what you should do because its definitely not. im saying i NEEDED to do it at the time because i had no other way of coping and i NEEDED too to learn what not to do in the future. So masking, for me, was better than facing things 'alone'. In that time though, i made my issues alot worse and in fact caused more issues. it hurt my family, my friends and well hurt myself too, because in the long run i still had to sober up and i still had to deal with the same issues that got me down in the first place, i ended up in debt which contributed further too my issues. I did some very silly things which when i look back on them now i could have hurt so many people. i took an overdose of painkillers at one point around 2 and a half years ago. I felt so weak i saw no other outcome but instantly regretted doing it and made myself sick so that they came back up. i've told my mother and close friends about this previously but i think to really show how much i've learned and to reach out to anyone who is feeling the same way i did, to tell them IT REALLY DOES GET BETTER AND EASIER. i think saying that, shows my honesty throughout this post and allows for my experience and honesty really show that i want to help anyone going through the same thing.

Masking just makes the pain go away for a short period of time. learning from your pain and making it your strength is how you really overcome your own mind and depression.

It wasnt until i realised i was never alone, just how selfish and stupid id been all that time, because in masking, hiding and running away, id stupidly stopped myself from a faster recovery, less heartache, less pain and mental and physical torture. and really i stopped myself from helping others in the same position as me.

it wasnt until i learned to make my pain my strength that i truly found peace in who i am.

i still have days where those voices wont shut up, and they win and thats ok.

i still have days where i cannot climb out of bed and thats ok.

i still have days where i cry and the pain is too much and thats ok.

because i learned all of it really is ok! everyone has those same thoughts the same feelings the same illnesses. and i know that tomorrow WILL be a better day.

you just need to learn how to make it and own it as your own!

nothing has changed for me, all of those things are still true they're still real, my body hasnt miraculously healed itself, i still made poor life choices, it hasnt changed my hormonal imbalances but it has changed my mindset. it has changed my life. i made a choice to change my mindset and not let it beat me i decided to let people in. my family are my guardian angels because they never gave up on me, they dragged it out of me and frogmarched me to the doctors for the help i needed but some people dont have that support in their lives.

i'm lucky enough now, to have lived with this for long enough to know my signs, and when i know what i call, "going dark" is coming. basically when i start slipping and losing control of it again, i identify it and know how to manage it head on. unfortunately my body because of the stupid "intricate machine" i have and how broken it is (believe me the day i can swap out into an AI robot body imma sign straight up for that shit imma have me a body like Jennifer Anniston) my body however tends to go into a meltdown, i end up with more migraines, pain and infections. i also get extremely tired to the point i can sleep for a good 15-20 hours a day and thats not me being lazy (although if sleeping were an olympic sport i'd be the universal champion of it BED=LIFE) thats really me needing to reset. at that point in time when i know this is coming, thats when i reach out; i tell my friends and my family "I'm not okay" because i know now i can do that, i can talk to them.

i, personally, take medication daily, and for some reason we live in a society where people are actually shamed for doing so. i know if i dont take those 2 little tablets every day i will lose control and become a shell of who i really am. my seratonin levels drop and i practically become a robot barely functioning. so why should i be ashamed of those 2 little 'happy pills' which make me the person i want to be and know i truly am! no chemical imbalance is going to get the better of me! if i can have the help, im damned sure going to take it. along with the happy pills, aswell as alot of sleep, sunbeds, spending time with family and friends whenever i possibly can, i now have a job that i love, i also retrained as a beautician, and i love going to the gym and swimming whenever i can, ive found i can manage mine alot better. one thing that massively changed my life was limitting when i drink. i rarely go out drinking anymore and the reason is because i know deep down i will end up in a very low state afterwards. alcohol is a depressant and i wont allow that kind of thing to get me down. so now instead i choose to drink once a month if not less. i havent cut out the drink completely i just know if i want to get blinding drunk i need to be in a very happy place to do so. so i am careful where i drink, who i drink with and what i do whilst im drinking and unfortunately much to my neighbours disgust that tends to be in the house whilst singing along to whitney houston or disney songs at the top of my lungs, but thats how i know i'll not plummet the day after, and lets face it anyone whose heard me singing knows whitney had nothing on me ;)

In all seriousness though, the best advice i can give anyone living with depression is talk to someone, talk to your family, talk to your neighbour, talk to your friends, talk to your doctor, talk to your dog, your cat, the postman, the man on the bus who sits oddly close too you... just talk to anyone. tell them how you are feeling tell them your experiences. tell them what is getting to you. Find someone who you can trust, find a stranger. write it all down in a blog. video it. GET IT ALL OFF YOUR CHEST! SAY IT OUT LOUD! Just. Bloody. Talk! please!

everyones experiences with depression are different some people mask it, some people show it, some people (like me now) shout it from the fucking rooftops because im not afraid of my emotions anymore.

everyones ways of coping are different too, some people find the gym helps, some rely on medication, some rely on talking therapies... there are so many different ways of coping out there now... the only way that doesnt work is not admitting something is wrong and fighting your own mind without help, knowing something isnt right but still doing nothing about it. The only way of not coping is living a lie, you dont have to do this alone!

Basically do those things just for you, the ones you've always wanted to do! get that tattoo you wanted, quit your job, retrain, change your hair colour, buy that car, buy that dog, book that holiday.

do what makes YOU happy!

live for you and open up, people would rather know how you are feeling than see you struggle or ultimately not be here.

open up you never know someone might be feeling the exact same way you are and it could bring you closer.

but remember most importantly:

You ARE NOT Alone..

You ARE NOT Crazy..

You ARE NOT insane..

You HAVE NOT lost the plot..

You ARE NOT hopeless..

You ARE NOT worthless..

You ARE NOT unloveable..

You ARE NOT pathetic..

You ARE NOT weird..

You ARE NOT a psycho..

You ARE NOT strange..

And..

You ARE okay...

You ARE Beautiful..

You ARE Worth it..

YOU ARE Loved

i hope this helps...

thank you ☺

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the-irish-mayhem · 5 years

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Happy Fosterson Week Day 2: Outside POV! This fic stemmed from my love of fake academia, but also my absolute desire to never write an academic paper ever again. So I found a bit of a middle ground. Fair warning: Both Jane and Thor have passed away in this. But never fear, their life together was long and happy.

A generation later, a budding social scientist tries to figure out Jane and Thor.

Read on AO3.

Legacy.

Post Thread Created: 1/23/01 Originally Posted: 1/23/01 Post Edited: 10/30/04

Edit 10/30/04: WOW, I did not anticipate that this post series would blow up the way it did! Thank you to all who shared this and supported me in this journey, and if you’re wondering, yes, my book is now out! You can get your copy of The Dynasty That Never Was: A Biography at your local retailer, the Bionic Press cloudstore, or at your local library.

Just a little bit of context: this was very early in my thesis writing process, back when Jane and Thor were only planned to encompass a single chapter of my book (ha!) and I was planning on writing a straight cultural analysis rather than the cultural analysis-slash-biography it became.

Okay, now on with the original post!

Good morning, fellow New Asgard Anthropologists. For any newcomers, my name is (future Dr.) Melanie LaComb, and the purpose of this blog has been to share my research on a little more of a ground level, record my process of writing my thesis, and talk/write through some problems and put them up for community collaboration. It’s also nice to be able to shed the academic discourse for just a few minutes and write informally. So much freedom! So many exclamations and I statements! Anyway, I’m writing this new post to talk my way through a bit of a new thorn in my research. The late Thor Odinson and Jane Foster.

A lot of academics have kind of scoffed at this problem of mine—they were two extremely famous individuals! Integral to so many galactically significant events! Of course there is absolute mega loads of information on them! There must be dozens of biographies and at least two definitive autobiographies for beings of such impressive historical stature!

This may shock you, but NO there actually isn’t. Or, I suppose in some ways there is but not in the ways that would be most useful for me. For Odinson, who grew up on Old Asgard, the destruction of the planet meant the destruction of many records kept from his years before the Greatest War Against Thanos. His years afterwards are better trackable, but hardly centralized and hardly the more personalized records I am (now trying to get at. Foster, known on Midgard as Dr. Jane Foster and colloquially throughout the galaxy as “Jane the Thinker” or “Jane the Brilliant,” is surprisingly easier to get a handle on. Her fame wasn’t contingent upon her marital status, and she was well-known in scientific circles even before the first battle of the War in the year 2012.

So the root of my problem is this: fitting this pair into my New Asgard diaspora research. Because they are….. how do I say this…. not fitting? With my methodology? (I went to the school of redundancy school, but F*ck I’ve been writing and writing and writing for like 8 hours today already and I’m not changing it so THERE.)

So most of my research deals with the formation of a New Asgardian identity, and it relies heavily upon the shared cultural experiences of the Dark Elf Invasion of Old Asgard and the death of Queen Frigga (an aside, but one of my classmates, Korla Majer, wrote a really stellar article on why the Dark Elf invasion should be included as one of the major battles of the Greatest War, and how the dismissal of the event by most historians actively hurts our understanding of galactic politics at the time and I absolutely 10/10 would recommend you go read it after you finish this blog post) as well as the battle for and destruction of New Asgard. For beings so long lived as us, Asgardians have proven that we can make our memories as short as we need to, and those two events seemed to create the largest basis for the new cultural identity forged on Earth. (For some obvious reasons, namely being the events that led to the planet being destroyed and necessitating the move to Midgard, but ANYWAY.)

But I can’t really deny Jane and Thor’s place in the New Asgardian identity because their effect on the masses is well-documented. There are libraries full of memes, old paper magazines with paparazzi photos paired with barely-real stories that say a lot more about the readership than they do the subjects, even some old FanFiction that I was able to dig up that is in some ways more helpful than all the academia from that time period combined XD

In my roundabout way, the problem I’m trying to sort through is this: HOW do I tackle the Jane/Thor chapter?

Because in my original outlining of my thesis, I had planned on their chapter being a quick summation of how they met just before the Greatest War’s beginning, courted through the course of it, and married at its conclusion. Then, I’d give some context on their influence on galactic politics (because despite what some people erroneously think, they actually were not the monarchs of New Asgard. They remained advisors only after Thor abdicated the throne and named Brunnhilde [of house Dragonfang, an extremely old and well-respected Old Asgardian family] his successor. There was the five year gap of the Blip where Thor was officially King, but it was hardly a politically significant time as for much of this period Thor was gone from New Asgard), how some political maneuvers affected the general New Asgardian populace, and then move back to the cultural study portion of things. But the more sources I gather about them, the more I think this chapter might need to be extended, or made into some… sub point of my main thesis.

Because while I said earlier that information on them is hard to find (because it is!!! You try making document requests to 17 different universities on 15 different planets!!!! Alfheim literally delivered what I asked for in a light spectrum file format!!!!!!!! Like WHAT!!!!!! AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS????? HOW DO I CONVERT THIS INTO A PDF OR EVEN JUST MAKE IT COMPATIBLE WITH HOLOREADERS) it’s not always the quantity that’s the issue, it’s the content. I found myself longing to know more about who these people were and why they did the things they did. I’ve always found that I've done my best research when I follow my gut feelings, and research things that I’m passionate about. New Asgardian diaspora culture? I’m living it, baby! I’m very interested because my generation is the first generation to have never set foot on Asgard, and that’s something worth exploring!

And now here I am weirdly fascinated by an almost-king whose magical powers are pretty legendary who was banished and fell in love with a woman (who was 100% human at the time, by the way) whose scientific theories were so advanced that her own people thought she was a bit of a kook until all of her theories started getting proven right. From a non-academic perspective, that sounds like a freaking romance novel or epic movie or something. (Which, by the way, it was! There were at least 6 separate pieces of media [film, novel, television show] that were based on their story that I can find on record.) So on a personal level, here I am wondering why two people in the past got married in spite of wildly different life circumstances/why one of them abdicated a throne that was his birthright, and on an academic level A) trying to figure out how to fit this weird fascination into my thesis B) how did these two political and cultural figures shape the cultural landscape C) was their effect on the cultural landscape more or less significant than the two events which have been taking the most of my focus for the last year? D) how productive is it to even ask the question of more or less significance?

*screaming*

A few people have asked me if I should just switch my track to talk about how they affected Brunnhilde’s rule over New Asgard (which, in case you missed previous posts, Brunnhilde is a huge part of my current thesis as she essentially presided over what I’m terming “The New Asgardian Cultural Renaissance” and was absolutely critical to how things were shaped.) I’m hesitant to do this because this has actually already been done. I’ll stick JSTOR links in the endnotes, but Dr. Hamel Radley literally wrote this. “A King For the Ages: Brunnhilde’s First Three Decades.” Also, Dr. Leslie Storn’s “A King’s Court: Brunnhilde’s Advisory Council.” AND Dr. Jorseph Naulty’s “King Brunnhilde’s Surprising Advisory Council: Steady Hands, Scientists, Military Minds, and Galactic Politicking.” Look, there’s a LOT on Brunnhilde’s rule, and a LOT written on her advisory council. She was the ruling monarch, so it’s pretty par for the course.

But for how politically and culturally significant they seemed to be, there’s not really much specifically on Jane and Thor. Their cultural influences are given lip-service, and that’s it. (Again, Jane has been scientifically significant in a way no one has achieved since Albert Einstein, so in that way she’s more famous than her husband, but scientific notoriety isn’t the same as recognizing the fullness of her cultural contributions.)

I brought this stuff up to my advisor, and she said to keep pulling this thread because I’m on to something here, I just need to figure out what.

So my next research goal is to reach out to their descendents. They have a few children and grandchildren living, and hopefully at least one of them is willing to speak to me about them as people so I can get that portion of things nailed down before I go insane.

My almost-insanity probably bled into this post a little bit because it’s redundant as heck and you can bet your bum I am not spell-checking or proofreading. I need a break from that garbage. The life of a doctoral student continues.

Here’s to pulling the thread. Hopefully something useful unravels.

-(Future Dr.) Melanie LaComb

Reply posted by: Winsome34, 1/23/01 08:23

Melanie--this is a super interesting track, and your advisor was absolutely right when they said to follow it. I think it would be really interesting to read a sort of half-biography, half-cultural analysis piece. Would be really unique, and I’m sure any doctoral committee would find it an engaging topic.

Not sure if you’ve tried the Avengers Museum and Historical Library yet, but that might be a good place to go for some more primary sources, since Thor was a founding member and Jane was closely tied to them throughout their life. They have a really solid amazing librarians there who know the stacks backwards and forwards. I relied heavily on them when I was researching my last paper about racism against superheroes of color in the early 21st century.

Reply posted by: KorlaMajer, 1/23/01 10:22

Thanks for the shoutout boo ;) Your thesis is gonna be amazing!

ALSO: I have a light spectrum file converter from my dad. He does a ton of business with Alfheim and they are NOTORIOUS for sending incompatible LSFs.

Reply posted by: Chloe Durbin, 2/2/01 20:40

Hey! My mom is actually really tight with Thor and Jane’s oldest daughter Valkyrie. I think they knew each other from school or something back in the day, but she’s really awesome and basically my aunt, so if you need an intro or a number to call, I’ve got you! Just shoot me an email [email protected]. She’s really approachable if you don’t mind walking up to a lady who is literally 6’8” and looks like she literally HAS killed a man with her bare hands. But super nice though!

Universal Reply posted by: Blogmaster, 5/3/01 06:27

Thank you everyone for the tips! It’s going to help so much! The Avengers Library has actually been majorly helpful (I never even thought to look there, honestly!) and Valkyrie has agreed to sit down to an interview (of sorts) so everything is seriously looking up. And THE LSF CONVERTER WORKED LIKE A CHARM.

#fostersonweek #fostersonweek2019 #fosterson week #2019 day 2 #fic

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chipotle · 4 years

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A brief chat about Chuck Wendig, the Internet Archive, and bad information spread in good faith

Because I’ve got a bug up my butt about this again, let’s briefly dig into a social media myth that Will Not Die:

“Chuck Wendig is suing the Internet Archive!”

No. No, he is not.

There are two important bits of background here.

First, the Internet Archive. If you know them, you probably know them because of the “Wayback Machine” that archives millions of web sites. They do a lot of other archive-ish stuff, though, including collecting and scanning books. A while ago, they decided to create a digital “library” of those books: anyone could “check out” as many copies of those books at one time as the IA had physical copies of. This is more or less the way digital lending works from your local library: they pay for, say, three copies of a given ebook title, and now three library users can “check out” that book at once.

Well, that’s the “more” part of “more or less”; the “less” part is that the IA was doing that with physical books and technically lending digital copies is not the same thing under copyright law. Even so, publishers mostly looked the other way.

Until.

At the start of the Great Pandemic, the IA decided they were now running the “National Emergency Library” and lifted the per-copy limit. If they had ten copies or a book or two or one, it didn’t matter, however many people wanted to check out a copy at once could. And the IA sent out press releases about this. They wanted everybody to know!

I’m not going to argue about the ethics of modern copyright law, but as a legal matter, this is not a gray area, kids. It just isn’t. The Internet Archive was all but sending out notarized letters to publishers saying “we dare you jerky jerks to come after us with everything you’ve got,” and golly gee, they got sued by the Authors’ Guild and several publishers. Who could possibly have predicted that outcome other than, you know, fucking everyone.

You will notice, perhaps, that the IA was not sued by individual authors over this. They were sued by publishers and a writing guild.

Second, Chuck Wendig. Wendig is a science fiction, horror-ish author who runs a popular blog and has a freewheeling, gonzo, over-the-top style—I’d argue more in his non-fiction than his fiction—that, well, you could call polarizing. (I enjoy it, most of the time, but I could see how many might be driven far away at high speed.) He also wrote a couple Star Wars novels, famously introducing the saga’s first major gay character in Star Wars: Aftermath.

And this was not popular with a predictable loud subset of reactionary fans, who carried a hate-on for Wendig that culminated in the trolls getting him fired from Marvel’s “Shadow of Vader” comic book, ostensibly because of his “vulgarity” in expressing what Quartz calls, with delightful understatement, “his unabashedly left-wing political views.”

So if Wendig didn’t sue the IA over the Emergency Library, how did he get involved in all this?

Well, he called it a “pirate site,” which he pretty quickly apologized for, but also wrote a much longer statement on the subject.

The problem with bypassing copyright and disrupting the chain of royalties that lead from books to authors is that it endangers our ability to continue to produce art—and though we are all in the midst of a crisis, most artists are on the razor’s edge in terms of being able to support themselves. Artists get no safety net. We don’t get unemployment and aren’t likely to be able to participate in any worker bailouts. Health insurance alone is a gutpunch cost, not to mention the healthcare costs that insurance wouldn’t even cover. I’m lucky enough (currently, at least), that I can weather a bit of that storm more easily, but most can’t, particularly young authors, debut authors, and marginalized authors who are already fighting for a seat at the table. I’m also not alone in calling this site out—others like Alexander Chee, NK Jemisin, Neil Gaiman, and Seanan McGuire have noted their concerns over this.

I am all for access to information and entertainment, and remind folks that libraries here already allow you to take out e-books, even while their brick-and-mortar locations are closed. I used to work for a library system here in Pennsylvania, and libraries all around the country deserve their time to shine in this crisis, as we realize what vital institutions they are, both intellectually and as a service to the community.

Come on, how could anyone read that and, in anything even approaching good faith, take major offense at it? This is empathetic to authors and libraries. Yes, it’s (gasp) making a claim that copyright does have value, and maybe you don’t see that. But I hope you at least see why a lot of authors feel they should be the ones to make the choice about how their books get distributed. I’m not against giving my own work away for free, but I am against you telling me that you’re going to give my work away for free and I have no choice in the matter.

In fact, I don’t think the people who started this “Wendig sues the IA, film at 11” bullshit did so in good faith. I think many people spreading it are doing it in good faith, but bluntly, I think they’re being used by trolls relying on it being way easier to click “like” or “retweet” than to do fact-checking. (Frankly, I despair at how often I see left-leaning friends gleefully retweeting the most dubious shit that confirms their biases, but that’s a bridge I won’t burn today.)

While this whole nonsense is months old, I’m seeing another new thread floating around today fisking an older book of writing advice from Wendig, inviting us all to mock how weird and bad his writing is and how awful his advice must be and oh yes remember he sued the Internet Archive!, and I’m out of patience nuggets for this one. If that’s your image of Chuck Wendig and what he’s like and what he writes, let me offer a different one, from “Follow the River, No Matter Its Rapids, No Matter Its Turns“:

It’s a lot right now.

I think if we can agree on anything, anything at all between us, it’s that everything is a whole lot. It’s too much. If you’re not screaming into a couch cushion soaked with gin right now, who even are you?

But here’s what I’m thinking.

I’m thinking all of this is a river. It’s a dark, fast river. It crawls serpentine through the earth, through the forests. Sometimes it moves slow, other times it’s all rapids. Sometimes it is eerily serene, and sometimes it’s rough enough to knock your teeth into your knees and draw blood. It’s waterfalls and eddies, it’s deep and it’s cold. Like all rivers, it can soothe you, and it can betray you.

This river, the river we’re in and on now—it’s harder, meaner, a river after a flood, a river whose waters are not sated, who will not abate. It’s mudded up and frothing like the muzzle of a rabid wolf.

You can fight against that river.

We often do, in writing. We often go against our own moods, against the news of the world, against bad reviews and against poisoned thinking. Our work is often an act of anchoring our boots against the soft slick weeds and the water-smoothed stones and move against the current.

Upstream, stories can be born.

Sometimes, though, I think you gotta do the other thing.

Sometimes, you go the other way.

You go with the flow.

You run with the river, not against it.

And what that means, practically speaking, is you let it happen. What you’re feeling, what you’re seeing, sometimes those elements demand to be seen in the work. Sometimes the river is the channel that feeds the narrative sea, and that means you need to put it in there, out there, all over it. You don’t escape. You confront. You ride the turns, you rough out the rapids, you take all your fear and your anger and your confusion and you put it on the page. And not even in a way of trying to write something that’s marketable or sellable—but just trying to speak honestly about who you are, about the world in which we’re living, and about your grappling with all of it. It’s not even about writing a cogent book or a collective piece. It can be about taking the time to punch that keyboard and scream onto the page—if only to clear the water and find time to climb back onto shore to write something else. It can be the thing you’re writing, or it can be a way to get to the thing you’re writing.

I don’t mean to suggest this as good “advice”—it’s certainly no requirement. You have to do what feels best and right—and, further, what feels most productive in the direction you need to be going. I’m only saying that, if it’s that much of a slog, if the slow churning march upriver and against the current feels like you’re fighting too hard and losing to the pressure, turn around and go the other way. Sometimes we want to, even need to, write about what’s going on inside our heads and our hearts. Sometimes we can’t ignore the room on fire. Sometimes we can’t get out of the river or go against it. And in those cases, let the waters take you. Write what needs to be written. Write what the river tells you to write. Follow the water, and see where you go.

You may still hate that writing, but if you do, who even are you?

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robin-blogs · 4 years

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-29.01.2020- Bedwyr Williams and Jai Chuhan, Wednesday Lecture

Bedwyr Williams:

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/bedwyr_williams/

Within this section of my Blog I will be critically analyzing and discussing the work of Bedwyr Williams.He has been working in a studio space for 3 years and doesn’t enjoy traditional studio spaces. Additionally, I have linked his Instagram in this blog to see his full collection of ink drawings and artworks.

Throughout his career as an artist he has never enjoyed artists who get all of their fame from social media and who build up an almost fake persona of themselves as an artist. Although, he found this ironic as he got to create a poster for the London Underground as a result of his own Instagram. When Williams spoke about his artistic process he explained that he tends to create something just from impulse then thinks of the ideas and meanings behind it after. In terms of a process, this sounded different compared to more “ traditional” processes such as starting a painting with a sketch and later layering the colours on top etc. Additionally, he titles his works very literally as they state what is happening and who is in the artwork. This helps build up the context of his pieces as it makes it easier for everyone to understand rather than having an overly complex title. Although, either way this would change how we see the painting. For example if his piece “A Stack Of Beehives” was named something along the lines of “Society Now” or “Aging” we would perceive the painting as a grand political statement or as a vaguely controversial piece rather than stating it for what it is, which is literally just a stack of beehives.

When reflecting on my own artwork, I feel that aspects of Williams artwork link to my own and my practice while others give me inspiration to crate much different pieces. For example his piece on a dug up corpse in Ireland links to my work visually as I personally enjoy creating gorey and weird artworks. Although his piece// performance art on the word “exquisite” doesn’t particularly relate to any of my current work or my art practice but it does inspire me to create something similar as I enjoyed the composition and humor behind the video. As a result of this I would love to talk to Williams some more and ask about his performance pieces and how he created them so I could begin to incorporate it within my own practice.

Within his artworks and more conceptual pieces he explores political and social ideas and concepts. For example William made a piece in which he imagined a world where bullies took over and people in higher power would be burried alive in a small model house. Their heads would be left in sight by being covered by a miniature conservatory in which they would be suffocated and over time would rot. Children would be dared to look at the decomposing corpses. I found this piece to be both very involved with politics and society with its concepts and ideas.

Additionally, William showed an animated clip of a landscape he created digitally. Within the clip the clouds began to move as it showed a sense of time when the lights came on in the buildings to give the artwork a sense of life.

In conclusion, I found Williams artwork to be personally interesting with my work and further gave me inspiration for ideas and concepts in the future. Although he went through a lot of his works quickly to save time, I still found the lecture easy to follow and understand. Overall, I enjoyed the lecture and found his artwork to be inspiring and useful towards my practice.

Jai Chuhan:

Within this blog entry I will be critically analyzing Jai Chuhan’s artwork and process. Throughout this blog and her lecture she only showed her earlier work as all of the first paintings she created where on older cameras and hadn't been digitized yet. I will be keeping this in mind while going forward and analyzing her artwork.

Throughout her lecture she commented and spoke about her inspirations and how impactful they have been in her work and even when she was younger growing up as an artist. I found this point to be very useful and intriguing as when I was younger and even now there are a range of artists that have inspired me to do artwork and keep improving. One inspiration she said she found when she was 10 years old was Claude Monet. Chuhan came across his series of lily pad paintings in the National Art Gallery when she moved to England, and ever since he has been a main inspiration to her work. Monet was additionally a main inspiration for one of her paintings which is furthermore one of my favorite paintings from Chuhan. She painted water lilies from a park she visited with a Japanese temple. Chuhan then further explained that she felt inspired by the deepness of the pond and imagined a creature emerging out of it. When painting the lilies with oils she explained how heavily inspired she was by Monet and his water lilies. When thinking of my own work, I have never explored the art of landscape painting. Although from Chuhan’s passionate inspiration of Monet I would love to explore painting some calming water lilies inspired by his famous series of oil paintings. Furthermore, she was inspired by expressionist painters in her later works from their use of contrasting colours and composition, especially when considering the human form. This is clear to see within her paintings and her process of creating them. Chuhan uses a range of bold and contrasting colours within her artworks while additionally keeping the textures of expressionist artworks within her own. Furthermore, it is clear to see her expressionist inspiration from how she depicts the human form, she commented that on a range of her paintings viewers could tell what gender or ethnicity the figures where which is very similar to expressionist paintings such as Edvard Munch’s “The Scream”.

When Chuhan was younger there weren't many female artists, although she has always been inspired by her grandmothers. When she lived in India her grandmother had a natural skill for making clay stoves in her village. Furthermore, her other grandmother had a skill and passion for embroidery and would even make decorations for weddings. She then went on to say she has always been inspired by music and films. When Chuhan said this I immediately felt a relation to my own life and artwork. I have always had a passion for listening to music and I have even tried getting more into music and instruments throughout my life. Furthermore, when I was younger I was inspired to keep doing art from my favorite animated film; How To Train Your Dragon. It has always been a main inspiration for me in my younger life when doing art; it has even inspired me to start animating in the past year from how the dragons wings move and the fluidity of the movements.

As Chuhan spoke through her artwork, she then commented on her process and how she creates her pieces in terms of formal elements. Adding on to her inspirations, she was inspired by Bacon’s use of composition and space within his artworks. Furthermore, she was inspired by Bacon’s process of making artwork. When he find an artwork not going to plan he will immediately put it in the bin. To Bacon, his art has to be fit to be displayed in a gallery, if not its only fit for the bin. When learning this, Chuhan began to follow this process herself by making each artwork better than the last and if they didn't work she would get rid of it. Chuhan works from a range of sources for her artwork such as observational, memory and imagination. Although she then went on to comment on observational art. She stated that she has never seen observational art as “art” as she sees it as more of a tool for developing your skills as an artist rather than developing a piece. Within her process of painting the human form she has never focused just on painting portraits, although she will go through phases of adding portraits to her pieces. I find myself relating this to my own practice as I tend to go through phases of drawing or painting different subjects such as portraits and animals. Another aspect of her practice that I find relating to my own is her love for visiting different museums and galleries and discovering different cultures of art. One example she used was Japan, which I can see the inspiration from in her lily pad painting with a Japanese temple in the background. I further found myself relating to Chuhans practice as I have always had a love of Japan and its culture - its always been my dream to visit Japan and experience their art and culture. I had the idea to incorporate Japanese culture into some of my artworks by creating a sculpture of the statue of Hatchico - a dog who waited 9 years at a train station for his owner who passed away. This then circles back to Chuhans practice both now and when she was younger as she used to made a wide array of pottery when she was a student. She then carried that passion for sculptures in her later life as she wants to make more sculptures in the future. Chuhan has additionally found inspiration for her sculptures such as Ravindar Reddy with his cultural head sculptures. They are visually very stylized and incorporate a range of bold colours to make them stand out. Furthermore she has been inspired by Indian sculptures and their relevance to the culture and politics. In one of the sculptures she showed it revealed that the people considered lower class were represented by smaller figures while the people in higher power were represented by much larger figures who were placed on top of everyone else.

Lastly, Chuhan spoke more about her process and how she enjoys layering her oils in her artworks. Chuhan then went on to comment on how she develops and works on her paintings over time, she even mentioned that one of them took 6 years to complete, although she wasn't continuously working on it. Chuhan has always been interested in how time works in relation to her paintings such as how quickly they can develop visually over time. For example, in a lot of her paintings she said they start of as fully being pink ans over a few days or weeks they can completely change colour. With one of her paintings it started off as pink and slowly developed into a dark blue painting with contrasting colours of darker blues and blacks. I found this to be relieving in a sense as I enjoy spending a lot of time on most of my pieces, I’m never comfortable completing a piece in one sitting as it feels far too rushed for me. I enjoy spending the time on developing my pieces and seeing how much they change over time; similarly to Chuhan’s process of working.

Overall, I found Chuhan’s lecture to be very inspiring and helped me develop a fresh array of inspirations to incorporate into my own artwork and practice. I will hope to paint some Monet inspired landscapes and lilies in the future as I find his textures and colour pallets to be intriguing.

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noodlecupcakes · 7 years

Text

Hot for Teacher - Chapter 11

Warnings: Language, Gwen being sneaky af, Smut, Rough sex, Sex over a desk, Pantie kink, Daddy kink, Dirty talk

Shout at me if you want to be added to the taglist

Chapter 11

Roxy’s P.O.V

I got back to the apartment and searched my bag for my keys. I fished them out and unlocked the door, entering the apartment. I froze at the sight before me. On the couch sat Zeus, he barked softly and jumped down rushing over to me. “Gwen!” I shouted. Gwen stuck her head out from the hall and forced a smile that said ‘please don’t be mad’. “Don’t be angry, how can you be angry, look at him,” she spoke. “We can’t keep him; you have to take him back.” Zeus jumped up, his paws on my knee and let out a whine. I caved at the sound and reached down to pet him.

I crouched down so he didn’t have to jump up so much, not that it stopped him from doing so. He was only a puppy meaning over excitement at any little thing or new person. I scratched behind his ears and sighed, glancing at Gwen. “Is there somewhere we could hide him if need be?” I gave in. Gwen broke out into a grin and came over, “he can hide in my room, there’s a weird compartment at the back of my closet he can fit in.” “Even when he’s fully grown?” “I can make it bigger.”

I sighed, “you’re lucky he’s cute.” “So without going into, too many gross heterosexual details, how was last night?” I couldn’t hide my smile, “it was good.” “Looks like it with all that shit on your neck…why do I get the feeling that prick who has a teaching degree will comment on that tomorrow.” That prick meaning Negan. I bit my lip. Oh, if only she knew. I chose to ignore the comment and quickly changed the subject back to Zeus who was demanding belly rubs. I complied, smiling down at him. “So when both of us are at class who’s looking after him?” I asked.

Gwen made another ‘don’t be mad’ face and I braced myself. She expected him to stay here by himself…meaning we’d come back to a wrecked apartment. “I was going to take him to class, put him in my backpack…like a baby carrier,” she spoke. I resisted the urge to facepalm, that would never work. “It’ll be fine. My teacher likes dogs and we mostly do independent study anyway so it’s not like he’ll be in the classroom often,” Gwen explained. “You’re lucky you have that option.” “God can you imagine if you brought him to your class, Negan would throw a fit.” He would…just not in the way she was thinking. He’d probably gush over how adorable was, cutting the class short just so he could devote his time and attention to Zeus.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Class arrived Monday and I noticed a few looks at the marks on my neck. I did my best to cover them with my hair a little embarrassed. Negan kept glancing at me, a smug smile on his face. It was as if he saw those marks as a territory statement, a statement to any other male that I was his property. We watched the Swedish adaptation of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, making sure to take notes as the movie played out. Frankly it wasn’t sticking to the book so it wasn’t a great adaptation, which is a shame since you’d thing the origin country of the movie, the book and the author would stick to its source material. Maybe the American version would be better.

The bell rang to signal the end of class and everyone left quickly to get to their next class or just get out of the room. I headed over to him, Negan glancing over my shoulder as the last student left the room before he pulled me flush against him and kissed me hard. Negan tangled his fingers in my hair whilst his other hand vanished under my skirt. He began rubbing me roughly through my panties, forcing a loud moan from me which was thankfully muffled by his kiss. “I haven’t been able to stop fucking thinking about you, thinking about getting my hands all over this perfect body of yours,” he said a little breathlessly.

My panties were practically soaked through by now and he smiled at this, pulling them down my hips. I stepped out of them and he quickly pocketed them before his hand went back between my legs. This time he slipped two thick fingers into me, muffling my moans once more with his kiss. Negan began a fast, rough pace with his fingers, causing my buck and arch into his touch. His tongue fought with mine as he tugged on my hair. “Daddy please,” I whined.

“I need you so bad baby girl,” he replied. He removed his fingers sucking them clean before spinning me round and forcing me over his desk. I heard his belt being loosened. I bit my lip, pressing myself back against him just desperate for him to be inside me again. Negan gave my rear a playful smack before rubbing his cock against my entrance and coating himself in my arousal. After enough teasing he pushed himself inside me a little rougher than last time.

Negan instantly began a hard, punishing pace, the sound of his hips smacking against my ass echoing in the room. He covered my mouth with his hands as I moaned a little too loud for his liking. Negan cursed, his other hand pulling my hips back against his with each thrust. I did my best to match his pace, pushing myself back against him which earned me another loud curse. My eyes fell to the classroom door; anybody could walk in at any time and this would all be over. Someone would probably walk in, there was no way we were going to get away with this.

Negans fingers circling my clit brought me out of my thoughts and worries. My hips bucked, my only need being to finish. I could already feel my orgasm building and I knew that I was going to cum hard. “Cum for me baby girl, cum for daddy,” He growled. My eyes almost rolled back into my head as I reached my much-needed climax, my screams of his name and strings of curse words being muffled by the hand over my mouth. He gave two more thrusts before quickly pulling out and coating my thighs in his cum with a loud groan.

I rested my head against the desk, getting my breath back. Negan cleaned up his mess from my thighs and pulled down the skirt of my dress. I finally regained enough energy to stand up straight and turn to face him. “Do I get my panties back?” I asked. “Nope.” “Then you owe me a new pair. Now I’m going to study in the library before I make you anymore late for your next class.” I kissed him before picking up my bag and leaving the class, forcing myself not to look back at him. I could feel his eyes on me the whole time until I closed the door behind me. I hope he didn’t insist on having me over his desk after every lesson…not that I minded at the moment.

Taglist: @astrangegirlsmind, @ladylorelitany, @genevievedarcygranger, @grungedaddykinks, @jessie-cake1994-blog, @warriorqueen1991, @mwesterfeld1985, @isayweallgetdrunk, @almostinwonderland, @jungle-feeveer, @negans-network, @slothdoll, @shadesofarrogance, @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash, @jml509, @hannibalssweaters, @glittered-unicorn-lava, @thewew, @prettyepiic, @eldritchmortician, @neganisking, @jmackie1983, @cranberrysymphony, @negans-girl, @ali-pennell, @thamberlina, @backseat-negan, @libby822, @harleysandbats, @ibelongtonegan, @kellyn1604, @badsongwinchester, @jeffreydeanneganstrash, @haleyea, @jeffreydeanmorganownsme, @robert-d-j-bernthal

#negan #neganxoc #neganxroxy #hot for teacher #teacher/student #student/teacher au #negan fanfiction #negan smut #negan au #walking dead #walking dead fanfiction #walking dead au #jeffrey dean morgan

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sexatoxbridge · 7 years

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My album thoughts

I’ve sent you a message on here to let you know this was coming. I would have put it on my blog, but I would love for people to actually read it, and I have fewer than 300 followers, most of which are dead Tumblrs. You can publish or not, at your whim (of course you can…it’s your blog, after all. ;-) ), but I really needed to tell someone this, and it’s probably not a very popular opinion. So here ya go. :-)

——————————————————————

This is not a rant about hard candy or anything remotely related to that. I just wanted to get this off my chest and since 1) I have no Harry/Larry/1D stans as friends, and 2) it’s a Very Unpopular Opinion™, you get to hear it. ;-)

Okay, so I was really,*really*, !really!, REALLY(!) excited for this album, so when I got it on Friday, I sat down and listened all the way through, whereupon I found myself very, very disappointed and feeling gross and icky, like I very much needed to go take a shower and wash the filth off my body. Which means that Harry did a fantastic job on this album.

Yes, I know those two sentences don’t go together well, but please hear me out because I promise it makes sense, albeit in a really weird way.

Most people I’ve seen on Youtube and other places have said that a lot of these songs sound like throwbacks (they’re not wrong, obvs), but they seemed to place them in the temporal equivalent of the late 70s/early 80s. I can only think that estimate may be a function of the ages of the people I saw/heard make this statement - most of them are under 25 - because after hearing the entire album, I personally feel like it’s at least a decade further back than that, i.e., the late 60s early 70s, like 1968 - 1974, meaning Viet Nam/hippies/psychedelic drugs/New Age stuff/war protests, etc.

None of what was happening at the time was really evident to me. I don’t actually remember any of that going on because I was very young at that time (between 2 and 8 years old) and was very sheltered. I grew up in a very small town subject to an extremely conservative religious upbringing, but I do recall seeing more than a few hippies passing through, and I remember being very repulsed by them. The women seemed mostly okay, if a little odd, but the men were just…gross.

I have no issue with long hair even if it’s not particularly styled (because Harry, ya know) or facial hair as long as it’s properly groomed and taken care of (because Liam and Zayn, ya know). However, the men I saw passing through - who seem, in light of tonnes of historical footage that I saw later, to be fairly representative of the type - were essentially very dirty people, literally. Their hair was long, stringy, and greasy; their clothes were tattered and dirty; and their facial hair was hugely bushy, dirty, and untrimmed or groomed. They didn’t bathe much, so they stank, and when I saw a few of them shirtless, they appeared to me even at the time to be severely thin with no muscle definition whatsoever, almost to the point of emaciation.

They were drinking beer and other things, smoking things that were not tobacco, and listening to the music of the time (protest songs, psychedelic rock, and songs with heavy, loud, screaming guitars, most of which had lyrics that probably made no sense whatsoever even if you *were* on drugs). I remember being seriously repulsed by them physically and wanting to go home and wash up because I felt dirty just being around them. I also wondered at the time how on earth anyone could enjoy listening to something that was like an attack on your ears and peace of mind. Since I was a very young, sheltered, and impressionable, that type of music was subconsciously linked to the images I had of those people, i.e., dirty, disgusting, and repulsive, and because of that association has always engendered a feeling of being sick to my stomach just hearing it.

Fortunately, music moved on to other, better things (apart from disco…that wasn’t as bad, but it still wasn’t good, except for ABBA. They are offically exempt from any bad things anyone could ever say about disco or any other kind of music because I said so), and those memories were largely buried and forgotten unless I watched something on telly or heard an oldies radio station, neither of which happened often, and when it did, I simply changed the station to something more palatable.

Many artists and groups over the years have tried to recreate the musical style of that era, but most of them ended up being watered-down and santized versions of it, so these feelings of revulsion never came up again - until I heard this album. For the record, I very much like SOTT, ESNY, Sweet Creature, and Two Ghosts. The rest of the album literally made me sick to my stomach because of those long-buried subconscious associations of that type of music with those people.

Which means, as I said before, that this album is a masterpiece. No one else in the last 40 years has been able to resurrect those feelings in me like this album did. That tells me that whatever other artists had tried to do before wasn’t authentic, and this album is precisely that. Harry has recreated that type of music so well and so perfectly that I once again felt all of that revulsion, disgust, and desire to quickly go take a bath to wash off the grime of listening to it. He absolutely nailed it to the ground, the wall, the floor, the ceiling, and all of the neighbouring trees. It is done so well and so exactingly that it is for me an utterly perfect representation of that era.

So in spite of the fact that I cannot listen to most of the songs without wanting to hurl, I will shout from the rooftops that this is an absolute tour de force of that period in time, and anyone who loved that era should immediately go and buy this album, light up your closest bong, and just thoroughly enjoy what I am, for my own subconscious reasons, unable to.

-----

Thank you for sharing! -SAO xx

#submission

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ellingtonboots · 7 years

Text

Stuff – Concerns on ‘Over Attachment’

In one comment on my previous article I received an excellent comment (thanks Nick!) about what lessons he learned while going through Hurricane Irma, and how that event change some of his views about prepping.

He got the points that I wrote about for long time ago, and I still repeat it from time to time, it has to be repeated because you see it as my words only, and most of the people will understand it only in the proper way after they experience some serious event, only then you can put it in correct perspective.

Nothing like real life experience learning.

And there is nothing wrong about changing your (survival) system, I do that too when I figure that something works better then plan (or equipment) that I have.

If you are prepper for years and you did not change your setup and plan from day one of your prepping until now, then usually something is wrong with your philosophy.

„On a Good Day I can…“

I think it was on some forum or in some blog comments, discussion was about some particular weapon as far as I remember, and some guy said like „ (when SHTF) on a good day I can shoot (kill)…“

In that short statement („on a good day“) is condensed one of the biggest mistakes about prepping in survival movement.

There is not too many good days when SHTF. It is simple like that.

In short people are prepping based on imaginary perspective how SHTF gonna look, and that alone is not problem (you do not necessary have to go through serious SHTF event in order to be good prepper-survivalist), problem is that people stick so hard to their imaginary perspective of how SHTF gonna look like, and what they need for it, that they are simply not willing to change their plans.

They are sure.

Whenever I read that someone change his plans based on his experience and thinking and that he recognize that in my articles or courses where he was wrong I feel great.

By the way, on a good day you can sit down and shoot 6 magazines from AK in 5 minutes and shoot 5 people who wants to break in your home while you are singing „Hey Joe“ without too much problems.

You are fed, secured, comfortable, warm, healthy, probably police gonna come in 10 minutes, you’ll get professional psychological help later, maybe you end up in local newspaper as a hero…

On a ordinary day during real collapse, chances are that you’ll be tired from days and nights of not sleeping well, more or less hungry, maybe you gonna have weird and painful infection in your groin from lack of proper hygiene and serious case of diarrhea, your younger kid having pneumonia and of course doctors are gone, and your friend who is a veterinarian gave you some pills and you are not sure is it working, your wife had nervous breakdown and you do not have clue what to do with her…

You were listening to screams from town for weeks while gangs were killing and raping, and your bones melted from horror.

Several times strange idea of killing your family and then yourself struck your mind, because listening to screams for weeks put pictures of what kind of things are happening there, and you can not cope with that pictures.

And then there are 5 people attacking your home, they even yell that they gonna spare all of you if you give them all your preps, but you’re thinking about screams, but still maybe they spare you…

It is definetly not your „good day“.

You need to hope for good days when SHTF, but you need to be prepared for bad days when SHTF.

„Heat“

It is equation that takes in consideration your skills, preps, event, circumstances… and given heat (SHTF).

If you show me man who can have all prepared perfectly well for any kind of possible scenario I will bow to him, but, in my mind, it is simply impossible.

If you understand that then you’ll understand two things:

-you’ll need constantly to adapt to the given situation

-you’ll have bad days and fails

But you’ll have a good chance to survive. To show that in an example I’ll use very widespread and popular topic: Bug Out Bags

It is something like holy grail of survival, and it is like a minefield to go into that topics against widespread and popular opinions in survival community, but I’ll survive, and you just need to think about it. So here goes…

In one comment on my previous article i recieved excellent comment (thanks Nick!) about what lessons he learned while going trough hurricane Irma, and how that event change some of his views about prepping.

He got the points that i wrote about for long time ago, and i still keep to repeat it from time to time, it have to be repeated because you see it as my words only, and most of the people will understand it on proper way only after they experience some serious event, only then you can put it in correct perspective.

Nothing like real life experience learning.

And there is nothing wrong about changing your (survival) system, I do that too when I figure that something works better then plan (or equipment) that I have.

If you are prepper for years and you did not change your setup and plan from day on of your prepping then usually something is wrong with your philosophy.

Bug Out Bag (and equipment)

Bug out bag is something that is considered you „absolutely need to have“ or otherwise you are not a prepper….

So there you have situation where people (family) have bug out bags, each member of family have his own BOB.

Yours might weigh 25 kilos. You have everything there, food for three days, toilet paper, axe and knife, tarp and small stove, extra ammo, first aid kit and lot of antibiotics.

You have maps and radios.

It is heavy duty military grade backpack, waterproof.

All members of your family have BOB with good and usable stuff inside.

And then city erupt in violent protests for whatever reason and you need to bug out immediately.

You all grab your BOBs go out and get shot after 300 meters just because you have such good and cool looking stuff on you (and in huge amounts)

Or simply you drown in the river because your backpack is too big.

I understand that this example is very rudimentary, but you need to stop thinking that you can cover everything for every scenario, otherwise you end up covering nothing.

BOB is become almost burden because we are being bombarded with info „what we really need to have in order to survive and thrive“ or „you must have this or othervise you end up dead for sure“.

BUT it really needs to be about necessity, not comfort.

There is „prepackaged first aid kit for your BOB“ with nonsense inside, there are stoves that are heavy and give your position away to everybody from 2 km distance, there are ways to start your fire that takes like half hour to start fire and require like 1000 calories of your work… does anybody use lighter anymore for starting fire?

„what if lighter fails“?

Can you have 2-3 lighters for that case?

There are powerfull torches that make“ night look like day“ for only such and such amount of money…and if I want to read my map in the middle of nowhere using that torch I’ll be blind for next half hour, but if there anybody within 3 kms of my position they all will know where I am.

Again, all above are examples, and torch lamp and flints are great stuff,and definitely they have its place (I have it) but did you think to include lighters and micro lights too?

Example of solution would be „shelf“ system. You need to have lot of stuff ready to take really quickly, but based on given scenario.

Some things can cover all scenarios, basic things, but why in the name of ‘everything covered’ anybody would drag big heavy bag when you need speed and „blending“.

Is having sport bag for a given scenario not make more sense than a camping backpack or military type backpack?

Is carryng rifle in your hand having more sense then hiding under coat in given moment in scenario?

Maybe simple sleeping mat being visible on your backpack clearly points you as a target in given moment? Maybe moment demand only heavy duty trash bag in your pocket (as a mean for sleeping on a way to your BOL)

These are only examples, but hopefully you get my point.

Sit down, pull all your gear out, and think about 5 possible SHTF scenarios, and that you have 10 minutes to choose only 30 percent of your BOB stuff, see the difference in equipment selection for each scenario.

It is good practice.

It is reality – you cannot have everything.

Find The Balance

You may find that at the end it is about balance how much preps you have in your home (or willing to carry) with you.

Sometimes it affects your mobility and adaptility.

Sometimes you grow huge connection with your stuff and you are not willing to leave everything and run to save your life (because you have valuable things)

Sometimes all your cool preps will save your life!

Metal container with 300 $ worth of preps inside that you took and bury in woods as your secret stash can worth much more then 50 000$ worth of preps inside your home, simply because you maybe had to leave your home in 10 minutes in order to survive…

It is balance that can not be taught, because you need to put it in perspective of your given circumstances.

There is no magical solution to „survive and thrive when SHTF (for only $99.99)“ there is no „prepackaged perfect solution“ products.

You need to pack your solution!

from SHTF School http://ift.tt/2ydQM8L

#SHTF School

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pisati · 5 years

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it’s never so simple as “just”. just do this, just do that, then...

I wasn’t really surprised by my neuropsych results; in fact if I was surprised at all, it was that it went as well as it did. reading “based on educational achievement and performance on measures tapping general fund of knowledge (99th percentile) and reading (99th percentile), [her] intellect is estimated to be well above average” made me smile. good to know my thinker’s still intact.

I still really want to take some time to research the tests they ran on me, now that I have the names for them. I want to learn what they’re meant to do. what research has shown that those are good empirical measures of cognitive function. just thinking about that gives me the warm & fuzzies. it feels so quintessentially me. I miss getting excited about things.

I knew what the doctor was going to say, partly because I already got the brief rundown from my psychiatrist. once again proving to my doctors that I don’t just want something to be wrong with me, I’m actually grateful that there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with my brain. my MRI and EEG both came back normal, and on my cognitive function tests I did, to quote the doctor, “very, very well”. he chalked it up to insomnia and depression, possibly whatever’s behind my insomnia as well. so I’m glad I’m seeing my sleep med doctor on the 29th. I just almost panicked for a second because I’ve had that appointment scheduled since january (the woman is booked out for months) and now I’m starting a job and I am scheduled that day, but thankfully the appointment is at 8:30 and I don’t start work til 12:30. phew.

but yeah. they think I should get a sleep study done; like a legit one. the last one I got was just making sure I didn’t have any physical problems affecting my sleep, and I already know I don’t. my brain just won’t quit. I’m going to have to remember to ask the doc if she recommends any rheumatologists in the hopkins system; anyone who could look at my test results and do anything but shrug at me. university-system doctors like to see weird cases, as far as I know.

I’ve been sitting on this result for two days now, and I don’t really know how to feel. maybe a little confused, but at the same time not. doc thinks my depression is part of why my memory has been declining. and it’s not really memory, necessarily; we both know that. I had a lot of trouble on the story recall test. I need to look into the results more because I think I might have somehow managed to guess more correct answers than incorrect ones on the second part of the story test: at some point after the “recount as many details as you can remember” part, I was asked to say yes or no to statements about each of the stories that the examiner would recite, if I thought that detail was part of the story or not. I knew I was guessing on a majority of them, but somehow I think my results said I got 13/16 right. it was a 50/50 chance on each detail, so it’s not impossible that I could do that well by accident, but I know it was an accident. I really couldn’t fucking remember. anyway I performed in the 4th percentile on that test. very poorly. but it’s consistent with the memory issues I’ve been having for the last two years; information-heavy material just goes in one ear and out the other now. it doesn’t stick. it’s a lot of effort to remember things and it almost feels like my brain assigns importance to things randomly. I don’t forget everything, but I never know what piece of information is going to disappear next. not really “disappear”, of course. we’ve established I’m not losing anything. it just slips deeper into the sludge bucket until I forget it’s even there.

I think what’s puzzling me most is that he doesn’t think this is characteristic brain fog stemming from an autoimmune disease. at least, that’s what the report says. it really could just be because I’m tired and sad. and it makes me wonder how that could be. on the one hand, I don’t feel like my depression has made it harder for me to think. but on the other... as doc mentioned to me in our meeting, when you feel bad, things just stop working right. people with long-term illness can’t remember what it’s like to function normally. I literally don’t remember what it was like to not be sad. I told him that I did estimate my depression to have started around 17, but looking back... I was exhibiting signs much younger. 13, 14, definitely 15. possibly even before that; I can’t remember not having a melancholic temperament (though I was a pretty happy kid til maybe 9-10, all said). the depression was only obvious to me at 17. I don’t remember what having energy was like either; I don’t remember if having energy helped my brain work better. that energy kick I felt the first day I was on wellbutrin... that was something else. I felt like someone opened a room-darkening curtain just a crack on a bright, sunny day. I had no idea it was even sunny out, or that the outside could be so bright. I remember thinking to myself, this is language-learning energy. this is what I’ve been missing. and just as soon as it was there it was gone again. maybe that really is what I need.

so the real issue, then, is figuring out why the fuck none of my sleep is restful. that kind of puts it back into the hands of both my sleep medicine doctor and my psychiatrist. I just want to know what’s wrong with me. I want to know that one day I can fix it. one day I’ll be able to pull back that curtain entirely and I’ll always be able to have light when I need it.

it’s also weird reading an objective report of yourself, based partly on your own words and your doctor’s observations. coming out of my own mouth I guess I don’t see my depression as being that bad, but on paper, written by someone else... if it weren’t me and I was reading that, I’d have said “get that kid to a therapist”, lmao. it doesn’t feel that bad. it just kind of is. we’d talked about my home life back in high school, around the time my depression started. I’d apparently described my home life as “not great” (also unsettling to read so many quotes; definitely my words, but they almost read like sarcasm-quotes). sometimes reading things like that, even though I said them... it makes me feel bad. makes me feel like retracting it. well, it wasn’t that bad... like, no, I totally wasn’t writing blog posts at the tender ages of 15, 16, and 17 saying I couln’t stop crying and felt like I wanted to scream and felt like I was going insane because my mother was being a massive bitch to me for no reason other than the fact that she was stressed from work and having a shitty boyfriend and I was feeling a lot of emotions already related to being a “normal” 15-17 year old girl who couldn’t even process those properly because she couldn’t talk to her own fucking mother and was too stressed out at home to be stressed about those “normal” teenage girl things

mom gave me a lot. she gave up a lot for me and worked really hard for me. she raised me and my brother basically by herself, because, bless my father, he was useless before the divorce. I feel like I was able to take those things for granted, and I’m sure I did. but at the same time... you’re supposed to provide for your kids. spoiling us was her choice. but the value of those things, I think, diminishes if you neglect your kids emotionally. I can’t forget some of the awful things she said to me; when she’d storm into my room looking for things early in the morning, snapping at me and calling me a lazy bitch because my room was messy. taking away my things if I didn’t do something she wanted me to. I still don’t feel like I can talk to her about anything personal. sometimes I have to and I’m cautious about it. and even still, she’ll try to hold things over my head. I didn’t think it happened much anymore. I haven’t been able to think of examples to explain it, because it hasn’t happened in so long. but today...

I went to get my EKG done today. I couldn’t tell her that; my psychiatrist ordered it to make sure I was cleared to be on adderall, and I had to go to my GP to do it. mom doesn’t know I’m seeing a psychiatrist. but when I got to the office today (they could only schedule me before the 20th with a doctor that wasn’t my primary), they told me that since my doc wasn’t on my insurance card, insurance might charge a specialist visit fee for the EKG. I texted my mom later asking if we could make my doc my PCP through the insurance, since it’s her policy and I don’t know if I can make those changes, and she said she could do it when she got home. cool. but later I went downstairs and she snapped at me for not visiting her mother. now that we’ve moved grandma to a building a few miles down the road she’s been asking me to go over every single day, and I haven’t been. I guess that makes me a shitty person, but I just really don’t want to. if my grandmother had ever been any kind of pleasant to be around, I’d be more inclined. but anyway, mom said “I’m not changing your insurance til you go visit grandma”. are you fucking kidding me? this shit again? holding something I need over my head til I do what you want? I’m glad I’ll be getting my own health insurance through my job soon. I had to bite my tongue so I didn’t tell her that she’d be footing the specialist bill if that came, then. I get it, grandma’s alone. I’m a major asshole. I’d also like to enjoy my last few days of freedom. it’s absolutely not fucking fair to not change my PCP on my insurance, something that should have been done two years ago when I moved home and started going to this GP, because I don’t want to sit by myself in a room with someone who can barely hear anything I say if I say anything at all and will only talk about her hearing or what a pretty little girl I am; little girl, like I’m still 5

and it is unfair, I suppose, to be talking about my grandma like that. to be actively avoiding spending time with her. I feel like a callous dickhead for feeling the way I do. it’s the same thing I felt about being around my dad, almost. he could be so frustrating and doing literally anything with him, especially towards the end, was ulcer-inducing. I loved my dad to pieces, but I dreaded spending time doing things with him; even a simple trip to the store, it was always something. those conflicting emotions were, and still are, really hard to deal with.

grandma’s schizophrenic. or, at least, very likely is. she’s lonely. she’s losing it a little (but she’s always been pretty nuts). I feel bad, I really do. I should want to be there for her more. but even my mom says it’s been the same story as long as she could remember. it was always about her. everything was always about her. a lot of it was the schizo. she’d never been diagnosed-- refused to talk to doctors. there’d be no getting her on meds. it just was how she was. but now mom has to hear every single day about how she just doesn’t hear so well anymore and she doesn’t get why (because being 94 doesn’t have anything to do with it) and how she’s terrified of losing her hearing (what’s left of it anyway; she’s deaf in one ear and has a hearing aid for the other). the schizo makes it so that she’s terrified that literally anything will affect her hearing. the AC unit in her apartment. a truck going by. a light, somehow. mom says the blinking light on the phone bothers her and she gets nonstop calls when there’s a voicemail on the machine. mom put a camera in her old apartment to keep an eye on her just in case anything happened, but apparently she couldn’t remotely pivot it if grandma was in the room because the motion would freak her out. and I feel awful about those things. I know what it’s like to live in constant irrational fear. it’s horrible. torturous.

but even as someone who tries to be patient and compassionate when it comes to mental illness, it’s really hard to stay sympathetic when it’s years and years of the same shit and she doesn’t even try to help herself. won’t try to distract herself. keep herself busy. she just wants to stew in thoughts about shit that happened 50 years ago and obsess about her hearing. and there’s really nothing to do besides just try to work around it, since we can’t get her to a psych. mom has tried everything. she won’t do anything by herself or with much of anyone besides my mom, so mom has tried playing boggle with her, coloring in coloring books with her (my idea), sitting and reading with her.. I recommended watching ASL videos with her and doing the signs with her like a game (but of course grandma outright refuses to learn ASL because even the thought of being totally deaf scares her; like, ok, but how will you communicate then). mom says she won’t sit still for long. she just wants to get up and leave the room for a few minutes, turn on the tv real loud for a few seconds to make sure she can still hear, whatever else. there’s only so much you can do and my mom has done all of it. it’s been years of this. sometimes I’ll hear mom yelling on the phone at her because she called, yet again, to ask her if she thinks some completely harmless thing will hurt her hearing (no, ma, it has nothing to do with your hearing! now stop!) or “this lady in my building was asking me about my family and my kids and I don’t know why she wants to know those things” (that’s just what people do! they ask questions to be polite!). even my mom loses her cool with her. it’s so, so frustrating, and it’s even more frustrating to feel so conflicted; like we’re not allowed to be frustrated because she’s mentally ill.

and that’s not to say I haven’t tried too. whenever I’m dragged over there with my mom I’ve tried talking to her, but no reasoning gets through. my aunt is awful to her, but no matter how much we tell her that’s just how she is, she’s like that to everyone, it’s the same things. I told her how my aunt didn’t talk to me for 3 years after a trip she took me on where I did exactly what she said I could do (but didn’t want me to do anyway), and she kind of laughed at it, but then continued on about how my aunt is so awful to her. don’t take it personally... followed by more taking it personally. it’s exhausting. if she can hear me at all, it’s like my words mean nothing anyway. she did like hearing about my rats and seeing pictures of them. she thinks they’re kind of cute. she was really surprised that they have so many babies and she kept talking about how amazing that was. that was probably one of the only good conversations I’ve been able to have with her in years. but I really had to reach and come up with more things to talk about so we didn’t steer back into talk about hearing loss and how pretty I am

it’s just. a lot. I do feel bad about not wanting to spend time with her, especially because I know she needs it. but it’s exhausting and awkward for me; I’d rather not be alone with her because I have nothing to talk about and she’s just going to go on about her hearing and won’t listen to anything I tell her if she can hear me at all and just ugh

don’t remember how my post took that hard left, but it did. writing is nice, tangents and all. I’m still feeling mixed emotions over my results, where to go from here. it probably won’t be as simple as “just” going to another rheumatologist, “just” getting a sleep study done... I don’t know what this is but it’s going to continue being an uphill battle for a while. I’m just glad I have people in my corner who have been reminding me that there’s always something else. I haven’t exhausted every option yet. encouraging me to keep going. it helps so much. if I didn’t even have that little bit to hold on to these last few months... I don’t want to know where I’d be.

I was just thinking about that last night, actually. one of my journal prompts had me thinking about it. the tiniest little things make such a big difference. just hearing I did a good job with something, or that someone’s proud of me. even if it didn’t seem like I did much, or even if my brain wants to tell me they’re just saying those things to be nice. I really haven’t been talking to much of anyone in at least a year. only one person with any kind of regularity. it’s been deafeningly quiet and honestly really lonely. and it easily could have been much quieter and lonelier. I’m not sure I want to know where I’d be if I hadn’t been talking to anyone this last year or so. probably would’ve spent a lot of time back on okcupid, reactivating, feeling sick to my stomach, and deactivating. over winter I was looking for any kind of community online; facebook groups, meetup groups, hell even subreddits... I felt too late to the party on everything. but I guess it hit me real hard that I just missed having company. people to talk to. it was really frustrating watching everyone else living their lives and feeling cocooned away; like I wasn’t doing anything worthwhile and I wasn’t ever going to. I guess that urge mostly subsided. winter is a lonely time in general. I can only imagine where I’d have been mentally if I’d spent the whole thing completely alone.

part of that is really on me for not reaching out. I know I need to let people know more often that I care about them. I’m learning that I’m pretty damn bad at showing it, but I don’t think I realized I was never good at it. I know I show it in different ways from most people, but I thought it was a little more obvious than it probably is. I feel, from an outsider’s perspective, that I seem kind of like a cat. even when I am showing affection, it’s hard to tell. I do wait for people to talk to me first, and I’m not sure why. I don’t think it’s necessarily fear of being annoying, but that does cross my mind occasionally. it feels more like... they don’t want to hear from me anyway. they’ll look at the notification and ignore it for a while before they think of a polite reply. what do I even have to offer them? I guess it’s more fear of being rejected. people have asked me why I don’t invite friends over to do things instead of waiting to be invited out, and I asked myself the same question. but then I realized... I did do that. I’d ask charlotte to go to concerts with me, she’d either ignore me or not really want to go. I asked her if she wanted to do even a monthly craft night, if I could go over and help her clean her house; anything. we did two yoga classes together and that was it. now she’s too busy to even talk to me; my messages go unread for days. all of a sudden she actually wants to spend time with sawyer; the boy she’d ditch handily for me when they were still dating. she’d nudge me out the door when it was about time for him to come home from work, even though he’d usually go straight upstairs and not bother us anyway. she just posted pictures on snapchat of them going to a peach farm to pick peaches, and she takes him to all these antique markets and stuff that she knows I’d like going to too. always busy doing something with his family, when I do ask if she has a free weekend. can’t really invite my PA friends over either, and I’d only ever been successful in getting one of them to come visit me more than once. the others, and only some of them, came down for my little grad party in 2017. that was it. I absolutely am projecting the results of a few past rejections on to my future, but I really do fear rejection. I’d rather not even bother. good thing I spent a lot of time learning how to be alone, I guess.

I forget where I was going with this. my eyes are starting to cross; I think it’s bedtime

#rambles rambles rambles #I always say 'sometimes you just need to word vomit'#and that's the truth #but man oh man if I'm not going at 60 tangents a minute #I just talk and talk #good to get it out I guess #blah blah nothing important

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nerdyathomedad · 7 years

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Out of all the amazing things that J and I have been able to do over these few years, going to Star Wars Celebration wasn’t even on the list of probable things at least until J was a bit older. Last year, we watched Celebration from the comfort of our home just waiting for the day that we would be able to be amongst the crowd. This last weekend however, J and I boarded a plane to our very first of hopefully many Star Wars Celebrations. We left Salt Lake City at 2:30pm on Wednesday April 12 and landed in Orlando at 1:30am on Thursday, we had a 3 hour layover in Las Vegas, we went to sleep around 2am and woke up around 5:30am for our first day. Even though Star Wars Celebration didn’t really begin until Thursday morning, it kicked off for J in Vegas as he was recognized by quite a few people in Vegas and that continued into Thursday as we were walking the line that wrapped around the Orange County Convention Center.

When we found out that we would be attending Star Wars Celebration 2017, I initially got nervous. I get really nervous around large groups of people and I was worried that my nerves wouldn’t allow me to have a great time. Usually if I feel overwhelmed at Salt Lake Comic Con, I can either step in a quiet room or I am just a 5 minute train ride from home. But this seemed like an opportunity that I couldn’t pass up and especially with J. I am really happy we made the trip, we had a blast on the exhibit floor and in the panel rooms.

Star Wars Celebration, like many conventions around the world, had some kinks in the chain. That is expected and forgivable, and without those kinks, some of our favorite moments wouldn’t have happened. We, along with Dr. Sarah from Geek Parenting Podcast, arrived at the Orange County Convention Center around 9 am on that first day. The line was already starting to wrap around the convention center. As mentioned before, J was getting recognized by people in line and I could hear people asking their friends if it would be weird to ask for a picture with him. Before we move on, I want to say that, no it is not weird. Just ask, he is usually more than happy to take pictures with people. We stood in line behind some fun people and we talked with them for about an hour before we saw someone we recognized in line. We told him to hop in line with us and talked with him for another 30 minutes before we made it into the convention center. Once we hit the exhibit hall, our minds were blown. A snowspeeder greeted guests to the wonders of Star Wars Celebration. As we ventured further into the hall, we saw these amazing cars that were modified to resemble ships from the Star Wars universe. When we were approaching these cars, J noticed that one looked especially familiar and from about 30 – 40 yards out he ran screaming “POE’S X-WING”. The owner of the car peeked his head out looking for the excited fan and he greeted us at the amazingly modified vehicle. The owner asked me how old J was and I responded. He was in shock that a fan so young would recognize which X-Wing when all of the older fans just thought it was some “random X-Wing”. He told us that J “made his con” on the first day and that he was so appreciative of how much J loved his car.

We didn’t make it into any of the big panels, mainly because I like sleeping in a nice comfy bed and a nice shower to wake me up in the morning, but we were able to watch them from “The Star Wars Show” stage or on my phone. While the panels were going on though, we took advantage of the little to no lines at all the vendors’ booths to see what goodies we could bring home from our adventure. There were quite a few big name vendors on the floor at Celebration. LEGO, Hasbro, Walt Disney World, Nissan, Funko, UNICEF, and others had interactive booths that fans of all ages would enjoy.

LEGO set up building stations for kids to help the Master Builders build an enormous LEGO Millennium Falcon, Hasbro was showing off their new “Forces of Destiny” toys, Walt Disney World brought Jedi Training to Celebration, Nissan had their Nissan Rogue present with the VR experience, Funko had some exclusive POPs, but our favorite booth had to be the UNICEF Kid Power booth. Not only did they have special edition 40th Anniversary “Force for Change” Kid Power Bands, but they had the one and only Ashely Eckstein (Ahsoka Tano) at the booth doing some Star Wars themed exercises with the kids.

There was so much going on panel wise that I would need at least 20 of me to experience everything Star Wars Celebration had to offer. They had the “Celebration Stage” where all the main panels took place, the “Galaxy Stage”, “Fan Stage”, and “Behind-the-Scenes Stage” all had their own panels as well as streams of the bigger panels. There was a “Family Stage” where activities for the younglings took place. Kids could do “Padawan Training” along side the Saber Guild of New York, they could draw with artists, and had little cosplay contests every afternoon. Across from the “Family Stage” was the “Rebel Theater” where they were showing episodes of Star Wars Rebels every day from open to close. There was also a “Podcast Stage” where Star Wars themed podcasts met with fans to record a “Live from Celebration” episode. We stopped by to watch our friends from the Full of Sith Podcast record their episode. If you have some time, you should go check out their Celebration episode. Every day at Star Wars Celebration was packed with so many amazing activities and I am glad we got to experience as much as we did.

Now that we got the formalities out of the way, let’s go into some of the big things that happened at Celebration. If you watched the 40th anniversary panel, you saw the return of Hayden Christensen to Star Wars Celebration, and that George Lucas and Harrison Ford made an appearance on stage. What you didn’t see was the reaction on the exhibit floor. As I mentioned earlier, we on the exhibit floor had the ability to watch the big panels courtesy of The Star Wars Show’s giant screen, so we were able to see everything happening in real time as well. We were right next to the stage screen when George Lucas was announced, and I have never seen an area get so cramped so fast. People ran from all corners of the floor just to catch a glimpse of the man who created this wonderfully vast universe on the big screen. Tears were streaming down fans faces around the entire convention center as John Williams took to the stage to play Leia’s Theme at the end of the 40th anniversary panel.

We caught a glimpse of The Last Jedi during The Last Jedi panel and it was as glorious as I was wanting it to be. It filled me with hope and excitement and I’ve watched it at least 30 times since it was released. I want to discuss the trailer in more detail, but that could be it’s own post and maybe even a future episode of Geek Parenting Podcast. The one thing I will say right now, is that I am excited to see what Luke’s statement at the end of the trailer means for the future of the franchise.

Another exciting thing we got to be a part of was the Star Wars Rebels press conference. Dr. Sarah was chosen from Geek Parenting Podcast to catch a sneak peek at the fourth and final season of Rebels, while J and I watched the panel from outside of the room on my phone. Since we were not in the panel room, J and I were able to get some good seats for the press conference for the three of us. One of my favorite things about the press conference, that others may find annoying, was Dave Filoni’s ability to troll the members of the press. Almost every question was met with misdirection and I was loving it. Press members would address questions to the voice actors and they would all look to Filoni for what they could say, which was usually “not much”. After the press conference, J got to meet and get a picture with Taylor Gray (the voice of Ezra Bridger) and we got to catch up with Salt Lake Comic Con alumnus Steve Blum.

The rest of our Celebration weekend was spent meeting friends we’ve made through social media and getting pictures with cosplayers from around the world. It was amazing finally meeting and hanging out with people that we’ve known via Instagram/Twitter/Facebook for a year or more. Every single one of those friends have been very supportive of the blog and social media accounts, and they all made J feel like a celebrity. They all helped make Star Wars Celebration 2017 one of the best memories he will have for the rest of his life, and I want to thank everyone who made it possible for us to be there. If you read my posts, if you follow us on social media, if you donated to the GoFundMe that Dr. Sarah started, you hold a special place in our hearts. Thank you all for your love and support, and we hope that we can keep putting a smile on your face with our posts. You can see some of our photos from Star Wars Celebration by following us on Instagram.

Star Wars Celebration 2017 Recap Out of all the amazing things that J and I have been able to do over these few years, going to…

#Celebration #Convention #disney #geek #Orange County Convention Center #Star Wars #Star Wars Celebration #Star Wars Celebration 2017 #Star Wars Rebels #SWCO #The Last Jedi #Walt Disney World

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