#so i can only write essays for classes or ill go insane

[allforthe-gays]

please know that when i say “im giggling” or “it’s so funny to me” about any moment in the sunshine court it is because im coping

i am giggling because otherwise i will reflect on the trauma within the story and write lengthy essays analyzing minute details while i rock back and forth, trying not to cry

#im taking 15 credit hours and working 20 hours a week #so i can only write essays for classes or ill go insane #if you repost tag me on ig @all.for.the.gays #all for the game #aftg shitpost #the sunshine court #aftg meta

[cursestothemoon]

hellooooo<3 so, ive always loved the idea of Harry having an older protective sister(he really need one😭) could u pls do a headcanon of how she protects harry and their relationship? annnnddd how she also is dating Fred?? my heart needs it, pls and thank u❤️

i LOVE THIS 

(also i switch from third person pov to second person in the middle of this so im sorry :) but its fine ) 

ok 

i know a common headcanon/ fancanon for harry’s sister is that she looks like lily 

but hear me out 

Y/n Potter who looks exactly like James 

i mean to the T

and Lily would always make little teasing comments about how both her kids look like their dad and james is just :)

anyway

just picture it 

dark brown, wavy hair that was just tussled enough at all times

blue eyes

and the round rimmed glasses that James used to wear

stOP SHE WEARS HER DADS GLASSES BECAUSE WHEN SHE WAS LITTLE SHE’D PULL THEM OFF OF HIM AND AFTER HE DID SHE KEPT THEM AND WHEN SHE MISSES HIM SHE WEARS THEM AND THEY ARE SLIGHTLY TOO BIG AND SIT CROOKED ON HER FACE 

i made myself cry

anyway

lets talk protecting harry first then we will get into dating fred 

so she’s older meaning she’d be in Hogwarts for before him

let’s say she's two years older

George and Fred’s year

and she’d hear the whispers about her 

obviously

and i think she wouldn't tell harry

she would know the story of how their parents died and who harry was to the wizarding community but in an effort to protect Harry’s innocence and childhood for just a little while longer she wouldn’t tell him

at least not until he got to school then she’d be the one to tell him everything 

she is fiercely protective of Harry 

if someone so much as looked at him funny she was chewing their head off 

Harry might’ve been like James 

but Y/n Potter is James 

down to the way her eyes would narrow at someone in class when they made a rude comment 

or she’d try to charm her way out of trouble 

or charm Harry out of trouble

oH MY GOD SHE’D BE IN MCGONAGALL’S CLASS AND ONE OF HER FRIENDS WOULD SAY SOMETHING FUNNY AND SHE’D BE TRYING SO HARD TO HOLD IN HER LAUGH AND SHE’D MAKE THE SAME FACE JAMES WOULD MAKE WHEN TRYING NOT TO LAUGH

Mcgonagall almost cried 

she needed a moment 

ok Y/n would take the first week or so just to show Harry around Hogwarts 

she did not care if she was late

Harry was going to feel comfortable 

oH SHE NEARLY BEAT OLIVER WOOD WITH A BEATER’S BAT WHEN SHE FOUND OUT HE PUT HER TEENY LITTLE BROTHER ON THE QUIDDITCH TEAM AS A SEEKER

she is also part of the team, a chaser

will get spend most of the first few games with Harry making sure he’s ok

yeah malfoy doesn’t stand a chance

never did

10/10 would use the cloak to prank him

all the time

nothing is out of limits 

especially after he’s been nasty to Harry and his friends

growing up harry gets all embarrassed when she protects him because hes 15!1!1! he can handle it 

she is kinda hurt 

very dramatic 

“mY WITTLE BROTHER DOESN’T NEED ME”

“y/n... please”

“nO ITS OK HARRY I GET IT, ILL GO”

“where are you going?”

“YOU DON’T NEED ME ANYMORE, I AM NO LONGER NEEDED HERE”

“you don't HAVE TO LEAVE, WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS”

Ron was giggling on the couch in the common room he thought this whole scene was hilarious 

ron thinks she is so cool

ok i think she’d also have these little bits of lily that would shine through

unlike harry and james, who could just inhale near a book and get just above average grades

she took pride in studying and being able to sit down and absorb material 

Lily always passed with flying colors because she was a good student who wanted to prove herself 

it was the satisfaction of spending hours studying and being able to retain the information and apply it to earn an amazing grade that she loved

she passed this on to you

as well as her kindness to people who she believed deserved it

and quick wit

you two also had the same hands 

you had everything else from James but your hands looked like your mothers

down to the way your nails grew and fingers held a quill

snape hated it

because he really couldn’t hate you

he was weird around you though

hes just weird

where he'd bully and embarrass Harry 

he couldn’t do that to you because you wouldn’t give him the chance to

you knew the material

you knew the answer 

and he hated how when your hand shot up it looked just like Lily’s 

but you were making the stupid face James would when he’d concentrate 

you did not like snape

at first you were impartial 

then when you heard how rude he was to Harry...

it was also over for him

he didn’t stand a chance 

you had an affinity for pranks, fiercely protective, and you had gall 

your hand writing also looked like Lilys and snape had a rough time grading your essays

tough for him 

:)

also if any rumors went around about harry you were quick to make them actually about you

harry is the heir of slytherin?

actually no Y/n Potter is, there is no evidence but we just heard that it was her somewhere 

you didn’t care as long as no one was being rude to Harry

leTS TALK DEATHLY HALLOWS

so you don’t go with them on the hunt for Horcrux 

and you’d be going insane not knowing how they were or if they were ok

because all your life you had been able to protect to some extent 

but you were completely helpless now

you could do nothing

and then at the battle of hogwarts 

pLEASE

no one stood a chance

the feeling of seeing harry again

beaten, bruised, but still alive 

it was overwhelming

then seeing Hagrid crying in his seemingly dead body

also overwhelming

because you had failed 

you couldn't protect him 

and he heard you scream first 

it was loud and strangled and Harry felt so bad but he knew he had to do this 

I like to think Y/n Potter is the one who killed Voldemort in the end 

you cant argue with me on this sorry

ok

now

lets talk

dating freddie

so he’d probably notice you here and there starting in first year

but he was an eleven year old boy and girls were not on his radar right now

but he thought you were funny and pretty cool 

and your round glasses that were just a little too big for your adolescent face made you look cute 

then you tried out for the quidditch team with him and George 

you were amazing 

not only did you have James natural talent for the sport but that paired with Lily’s tactical thinking and quick mind

you were unstoppable 

you were brought on the team as a seeker 

and you were good at it too, but it wasn’t you’re favorite position

it entailed a lot of waiting and not really moving until you caught sight of the snitch

it was your excellent flying mixed with the fact that you literally had no sense of self preservation that made you a really good seeker

you'd just

nose dive 

if you hit the bottom you hit the bottom oh well 

but when Harry showed up you were happy to give him your position as seeker and take on the more exciting (at least to you) job of chaser

it was your quidditch playing that really got fred’s attention

because you were good 

and during team lunches or team hang outs you were always the life of the party

not because you were avidly trying to be 

but like james, people jus gravitated to your goofiness and happiness 

it was about the middle of fifth year fred realized he had a crush on you

and little man was panicked 

you had noticed fred before that

obviously 

but he was always just the funny guy on the team 

but as everyone knows the potter’s have a thing for gingers 

and it was when they came to pick you and Harry up from the Dursley's just before the quidditch world cup that you saw how attractive he really was 

please its james and lily all over again

kinda 

you become the funniest person in the room when he’s around

always smiley

lilypad?

no.

freddie bug

aH STOP PLEASE THAT’S SO CUTE

YOU’D JUST STARE AT HIM WITH A STUPID SMILE 

it would get to the point you'd be just blatantly flirting 

and fred bluSHES

BECAUSE HE ISN’T USED TO BEING THE ONE ON THE RECEIVING END OF SUCH CLEAR FLIRTING

usually he is the one to pick up girls

he has the charm

likes to make them blush

but yOU CAN JUST LOOK AT HIM WITH A STUPID SMILE AND HES BE ALL GIDDY 

he could barely get a compliment in between your flirting

“Morning Freddie bug, looking cute as always.”

George thinks it both hilarious and disgusting

ron just thinks its disgusting 

but fred is ultimately the one to make the first move to be more than just friends who flirt when the yule ball comes around

he asks you

“Potter! Potter!”

“yes?”

“You, me, Yule ball....”

and as he’s pantomiming it (ya know like in the movie) he also pantomimes a very heavy make out session then what you could assume would be kisses all over your face

it was now your turn to blush as you agreed to go with him

you guys started dating after that :)

pLEASE ONCE HARRY GOT WITH GINNY AND HE SAW A PICTURE OF YOUR PARENTS 

YOUR MOM BEING A RED HEAD AND YOU AND HARRY LOOKING JUST LIKE YOUR DAD

HE WOULD NOT STOP THE JOKES

“i see why you’re with me. it’s my hair isnt it?”

“what? no its no-”

“you probably wouldn’t even look my way if i didn’t have red hair. you potters are unbelievable.”

“you are such a dummy”

“oH AM I? BUT YOU KEEP ME AROUND BECAUSE OF THE HAIR. I SHOULD’VE KNOWN IT WASN’T MY SPARKLING PERSONALITY THAT YOU LOVE.”

taglist:

@amourtentiaa

@siriusement

#Harry Potter #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x potter!reader #harry potter x sister!reader #harry potter imagine

[sciencespies]

America's First Black Physician Sought to Heal a Nation's Persistent Illness

https://sciencespies.com/history/americas-first-black-physician-sought-to-heal-a-nations-persistent-illness/

America's First Black Physician Sought to Heal a Nation's Persistent Illness

James McCune Smith was not just any physician. He was the first African American to earn a medical degree, educated at the University of Glasgow in the 1830s, when no American university would admit him. For this groundbreaking achievement alone, Smith warrants greater appreciation.

But Smith was also one of the nation’s leading abolitionists. In 1859, Frederick Douglass declared, “No man in this country more thoroughly understands the whole struggle between freedom and slavery than does Dr. Smith, and his heart is as broad as his understanding.” A prolific writer, Smith was not only the first African American to publish peer-reviewed articles in medical journals; he also wrote essays and gave lectures refuting pseudoscientific claims of black inferiority and forecast the transformational impact African Americans were destined to make on world culture.

John Stauffer, a Harvard English professor who edited The Works of James McCune Smith, says that Smith is one of the underappreciated literary lights of the 19th century, calling him “one of the best-read people that I’ve encountered.”

“The closest equivalent I really can say about [him] as a writer is [Herman] Melville,” adds Stauffer. “The subtlety and the intricacy and the nuance…and what he reveals about life and culture and society are truly extraordinary. Every sentence contains a huge amount.”

Smith was born enslaved in New York City, in 1813, to Lavinia Smith, a woman born in Charleston, South Carolina, who historians believe was brought to New York in bondage. While James McCune Smith never knew his father, a white man, university records indicate he was a merchant named Samuel Smith. (Amy Cools, a University of Edinburgh scholar who has conducted the most extensive research into Smith’s paternity, maintains, however, “Meticulous research has thus far failed to yield any records of [such] a Samuel Smith…indicating the name “Samuel” may possibly have been entered into [the] university records for convenience or respectability’s sake.”). Smith received his primary education at the African Free School #2 on Lower Manhattan’s Mulberry Street, an institution founded in 1787 by governing New York elites. Their aim was to prepare free and enslaved blacks “to the end that they may become good and useful Citizens of the State,” once the state granted full emancipation.

The school graduated a roster of boys who would fill the upper ranks of black intellectual and public life. Smith’s cohort alone included Ira Aldridge, the Shakespearean tragedian and first black actor to play Othello on the London stage; the abolitionist minister Henry Highland Garnet, the first African American to address Congress; Alexander Crummell, an early pan-Africanist minister and inspiration to W.E.B. DuBois; and brothers Charles and Patrick Reason, the first African American to teach at a largely white college and a renowned illustrator-engraver, respectively. These men’s achievements would be exceptional by any standard, but even more so, for a group who were born enslaved or deprived basic rights as free blacks.

They were also all leading abolitionists, contributing their varied talents to the cause. University of Connecticut literature professor Anna Mae Duane, who tells the intertwined life stories of Smith and his classmate Garnet in her book Educated for Freedom, says the boys at the African Free School spurred each other on to great success and that the school’s innovative method of teaching contributed to that. The schoolmaster, a white Englishman named Charles C. Andrews, brought with him from his home country the Lancasterian system to help one or a handful of teachers instruct a class of 500 boys. “The boys would teach other,” Duane says. “They were all deputized as assistant teachers, basically.” This had a galvanizing effect on their confidence.

“When you are learning something, you are learning from another black person,” Duane says. “There was so much they did for each other because of way the school was run. It gave this incredible sense of authority and community.” Just as they elevated each other, the boys were destined to do the same for their people. Garnet formed a club of among the boys, Duane says, and the boys took an oath to “get their education and free everyone down south.”

Even among this exceptional group, Smith stood out as the school’s star pupil. In 1824, the school selected him to address the Marquis de Lafayette when the abolitionist Revolutionary War hero visited the school during his farewell tour of America. Freed by New York’s Emancipation Act of 1827, and after graduating the African Free School at 15, with honors, the next year, Smith apprenticed to a blacksmith, while continuing his studies with area ministers.

He took instruction in Latin and Greek from his mentor, the Reverend Peter Williams, Jr., another African Free School alum, and the pastor of St. Philip’s Church, the leading black church in the city. Garnet recalls his friend working “at a forge with a bellows in one hand and a Latin grammar in the other.” In time, Smith would master French, and demonstrate proficiency in Spanish, German, Italian and Hebrew.

When Columbia University and Geneva College (now Hobart and William Smith Colleges in New York) refused Smith admission because of his race, Smith’s benefactors raised funds so he could attend the University of Glasgow, which Stauffer describes as “a deeply abolitionist university at the time,” with ties to the abolitionist movement in New York. “Glasgow was a far better university than any American college at the time,” Stauffer said, and “on par with Oxford and Cambridge.” The university had been the seat of the Scottish Enlightenment just decades earlier, and had graduated pioneering thinkers including Adam Smith and James Watt.

At Glasgow, Smith was a charter member of in the Glasgow Emancipation Society, joining just before Britain abolished slavery in 1833. In a span of five years, he earned his bachelors, masters,’ and medical degrees, graduating at or near top of his class. Then, he completed his residency in Paris. The African American press heralded his return to the U.S. in 1837.

In New York, Smith established his medical practice at 55 West Broadway, where he also opened the first black-owned pharmacy in the United States. He saw both black and white patients, men and women. “[Whites] were willing to go to him because of his reputation,” Stauffer says. “He was widely recognized as one of the leading medical doctors in New York.…Even white doctors who were racists couldn’t help [but respect his expertise] because of his publications.” In 1840, Smith authored the first medical case report by an African American, titled, “Case of ptyalism with fatal termination,” but was denied the opportunity to present this paper on fatal tongue-swelling to the New York Medical and Surgical Society, “lest it might interfere with the ‘harmony’ of the young institution,” the society insisted. His paper, “On the Influence of Opium upon the Catamenial Functions,” was the first publication by an African American in a peer-reviewed medical journal.

While the foregoing represents Smith’s contributions to conventional medical research and treatment (and concerned mostly white patients), Smith dedicated considerable attention to challenging pseudoscientific justifications for African American oppression. The moment he stepped back on U.S. soil, he delivered a lecture titled “The Fallacy of Phrenology,” where he attacked the notion that head shape and size dictates the relative intelligence of different racial groups.

Having embraced at Glasgow Adolphe Quetelet’s pioneering application of statistics to social science, Smith frequently marshaled sophisticated statistical analysis to make his case. When the federal government used data from the 1840 census to argue that emancipated blacks in the North, when compared to those still enslaved, were “more prone to vice and pauperism, accompanied by the bodily and mental inflictions incident thereto—deafness, blindness, insanity and idiocy,” Smith mounted a campaign to refute the claim.

The Harvard-trained physician Edward Jarvis, who had initially supported these government findings, later joined Smith in exposing fundamental errors in the census. For example, Smith demonstrated that the census often tallied more infirm or “insane” black persons than there were black persons in a given state (“to make 19 crazy men out of one man”). More fundamentally, he showed the census failed to account for the higher mortality rate among the enslaved population—the murder of blacks, he charged, at young ages. In an 1844 letter to the New York Herald on the topic, he writes, “What mockery it is for men to talk of the kindness of masters in taking care of aged slaves, when Death has relieved them of so large a share of the burden!”

Smith served for 20 years as the medical director of the Colored Orphan Asylum, a position he assumed some years after he accused the asylum’s previous doctor of negligence for concluding that the deaths among his charges were due to the “peculiar constitution and condition of the colored race.” Smith made great improvements in the medical care at the institution, containing outbreaks of contagious diseases by expanding the medical ward to allow for greater separation and isolation of sick children. He saw the Quaker-run institution as one of the best schools in the city for black children, providing for them what the African Free School provided for him, with a critical difference: Duane says the philosophy of the African Free School was, “You need to admire a version of history that disconnects you from the history of slavery in this country…your own mother… You’re not orphaned but you orphan yourself. You leave the past behind.”

The leaders of the African Free School contemplated the children would educate themselves, gain freedom and repatriate to Africa. By contrast, Smith, says Duane, “saw education [at the orphanage] as a way of supporting families, of putting down roots in the U.S. And fighting for citizenship.”

He also knew an educated black population marked the beginning of the end of slavery. Slavery, Stauffer says, relies on a “totalitarian state” where no one is permitted to question the status quo. So, in the case of enslaved persons like Smith and his cohort who become free, he says, “That’s when they start speaking and writing profusely, and that’s what really fuels or creates the abolition movement.” Education and freedom of expression is anathema to slavery. “All slave societies do their best to prevent slaves from having a public voice, because if they do it’s going to wreak havoc on the society.”

Havoc was necessary if abolition could not be achieved by other means. Smith defied the 1850 Fugitive Slave Act, which required that citizens in free States aid in the recapture of persons fleeing bondage, as he met with other black activists in the back room of his pharmacy to arrange for the protection of runaways. In 1855, he co-founded the interracial Radical Abolitionist Party, with Frederick Douglass, former Congressman Gerrit Smith, and John Brown, the abolitionist man-in-the-arena, who in 1859 would lead a foiled attack on the federal armory at Harper’s Ferry, Virginia, in an attempt to instigate a revolt among the area’s enslaved population. The party advocated a pluralistic, egalitarian society, for men and women of all backgrounds.

Unlike William Lloyd Garrison advocated “moral suasion” as the means to rid the nation of slavery, these radical abolitionists were prepared to use violence if it would liberate their brethren from bondage. Smith reasoned in an 1856 essay in Frederick Douglass’ Paper, “Our white brethren cannot understand us unless we speak to them in their own language; they recognize only the philosophy of force. They will never recognize our manhood until we knock them down a time or two; they will then hug us as men and brethren.”

Smith predicted the institution of slavery would not give up the ghost on its own. “African Americans recognized that violence is at the heart of slavery,” Stauffer says. “Without violence, slavery cannot exist…And so, [African Americans] were practical.”

In general, Smith and the Radical Abolitionist Party believed that white Americans needed to embrace African-American perspectives in order to see America in its true light and redeem it. He wrote, “[W]e are destined to spread over our common country the holy influences of principles, the glorious light of Truth.” This access to truth, he predicted, would be manifested in African American oratory, poetry, literature, music and art. Stauffer says that one of Smith’s lifelong interests was to reveal to people the unrecognized influence of Africans and African Americans in the advance of scholarship and culture. An 1843 publication records Smith proclaiming in an 1841 lecture:

“For we are destined to write the literature of this republic, which is still, in letters, a mere province of Great Britain. We have already, even from the depths of slavery, furnished the only music this country has yet produced. We are also destined to write the poetry of the nation; for as real poetry gushes forth from minds embued with a lofty perception of the truth, so our faculties, enlarged in the intellectual struggle for liberty, will necessarily become fired with glimpses at the glorious and the true, and will weave their inspiration into song.”

Indeed, as Smith observed, songs among the enslaved were already shaping American music in his time. “Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child,” a haunting spiritual about the separation of children from their mothers during slavery, would later, as musicologists acknowledge, form the basis for George Gershwin’s 1934 song, “Summertime.”

Smith himself made significant contributions to the American literary canon with a series of narrative sketches in Frederick Douglass’ Paper, which he called, “The Heads of Colored People.” With its title mocking the attempts of phrenology to diminish the worth of African Americans, Smith paints dignified portraits of everyday black people—a bootblack, a washerman—as examples of the unique personalities inherent to every human being.

Smith died in November 1865 of congestive heart failure, living his final years in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. He and many black families fled Manhattan after the 1863 Draft Riots, where largely working-class Irish draft resisters assaulted and killed black New Yorkers and attacked charitable institutions associated with African-Americans and the war. Most distressing for Smith were these events of July 13 of that year, as reported by the New York Times:

“The Orphan Asylum for Colored Children was visited by the mob about 4 o’clock. … Hundreds, and perhaps thousands of the rioters, the majority of whom were women and children, entered the premises, and in the most excited and violent manner they ransacked and plundered the building from cellar to garret.”

The rioters burned the building to the ground. Fortunately, the staff managed to escort all the children to safety through a back exit. An ailing Smith was not at the asylum that day, and despite attacks in the vicinity of his home and pharmacy was not harmed. But he and other black New Yorkers were shaken. The mob ultimately killed an estimated 175 people, including many who were hanged or burned alive. It’s estimated that in the riot’s aftermath, Manhattan’s black population declined by 20 percent, many departing for Brooklyn.

“I didn’t know he was my ancestor,” says Greta Blau, a white woman who learned about Smith when she wrote a paper on the Colored Orphan Asylum for a class at Hunter College in the 1990s. While she had seen his name in her grandmother’s family Bible, he was a “Scottish doctor” in family lore. Only later did she make the connection. “I think all his children “passed,” she said, meaning that Smith’s descendants hid their black ancestry in order to enjoy the privileges of whites in a segregated world. The 1870 U.S. census recorded Smith’s children as white and they, in turn, married white spouses.

Knowledge of Smith’s achievements as an African American might have endured had he published books, but his essays from periodicals were more easily forgotten. Whereas Douglass was the most photographed American of the 19th century, only one portrait of Smith exists. Blau realizes why Smith’s children did not seek to keep his legacy alive: “In order for his children to be safe and pass, he had to be forgotten,…which is tragic.” In 2010, Blau arranged for the placement of a new headstone at Smith’s grave in Brooklyn’s Cypress Hill Cemetery.

Remarkably, several white descendants of Smith are interred in the same section established by St. Philip’s Church, the black church Smith attended. Blau’s grandmother, who died in 2019 at 99 years old, joined her for the ceremony at the gravesite, as did descendants from Smith’s other children, whom Blau first met when she contacted them to share the news of their ancestor. While other descendants she contacted did not welcome the news of her discovery, these distant cousins who joined her for the ceremony made the journey from the Midwest to be there. “They were proud of it. Just proud.”

#History

#History

[otomaticallyobsessed]

Quarantine Blues

Ok y’all so this is my first fic I’ve ever written... If anyone even reads this, feel free to give some feedback. I have some other fic ideas, and depending on how this goes I may or may not write those too. I think it’ll become obvious this is based off my real life circumstances - and I figured if the fic you need doesn’t exist, make it yourself right?

Karno x Reader, hurt/comfort

cw: depression, quarantine, some swearing

It was a dark, lonely night. I had been trying and failing to concentrate on my homework for hours, but to no avail. This quarantine was getting to me, seeping into my spirit and stealing away any amount of positivity and productivity I might have felt.

I am in my last semester of university. Actually, at this point I am only two weeks away from everything being finally over. But the pressure of finals, quarantine, and the reemergence of my depression is getting to me, and I am breaking down.

I sigh for probably the hundredth time in the last hour. I was getting nowhere, and the longer I sat here the more I wanted to just throw my laptop across the room, pack a bag, and go find some cabin in a woods somewhere and make my fate secluded from society.

I cast my gaze up to the night sky, trying to find some source of comfort. Immediately, my eyes are drawn to the familiar stars of the Cancer constellation. I sigh again, but this time not because of the homework.

Karno… I miss you.

I’m sure he is working harder than anyone in the heavens at the moment. I haven’t seen any of the Zodiac gods since this pandemic started, and I doubted I would anytime soon. I smile to picture Karno attempting to talk down Leon as he ripped into Zyglavis. Karno waking up Aigo for the thirteenth time that day. Karno staying up all hours of the day to make sure the department ran smoothly.

I couldn’t help but long to see him. He was always so calm, so reassuring. I could use one of his amazing hugs right now.

Ugh! Karno is working hard right now, so you should be too!

I shake my head to rid myself of thoughts of him. I didn’t want any of my wishes accidentally making its way into the department – Leon and Teo would never let me hear the end of it. And besides, I didn’t want to distract him.

I reopen my notebook, and glance back at my laptop. I really am trying to get something done, but I end up just staring at the computer screen for who knows how long. Eventually I groan and lay my head down on the desk. It was pointless.

“Well now, that’s not a sound I like hearing from you.”

I jerk up in surprise. “Karno?!” I frantically look around my room but no one is there. “Good gods I’m going insane.”

Two warm hands cover my eyes. “Well, I certainly hope not!”

I grab his hands from over my eyes, rise from my chair, and throw myself at him. “Karno!! Why did you hide?”

“I’ll admit, I thought it might be fun to play a joke. Maybe I’ve been seeing Ichthys too much. We’re all working together right now and its a little much.” He wraps his arms around me and holds me close to his chest. I missed his hands on my waist, and felt immeasurably more complete having him in my arms.

“Now, what has gotten my darling so upset I could hear her from the heavens?” I’m quiet for a second. Now that he’s here, I feel really silly thinking about telling him anything. I mean, he’s a literal god helping keep the world in balance, and I’m freaking out over a college final? “I tried to not call to you. I’m sorry if I pulled you away from something important.”

“Nothing is as important to me as you.” He whispers, making direct eye contact with me. He pulls away slightly, but only to guide me to my bed. He pulls me back close to him as we settle down. “Tell me what is wrong?”

“It’s silly.” “It’s not silly if it’s bothering you.”

“I guess its just… I can’t concentrate on anything. I can’t do anything right now either. I’ve been writing the same report for the last week. Usually something like this would take me three hours, not three days!”

“Why can you not concentrate?”

“The… uncertainty of the whole situation! This is an important coming of age time for me. Graduating college is huge for humans! And now everything is on lockdown, nobody is hiring, classes suddenly moved online, my work shut down… All within a week! And now its been six weeks, I’m still not recovered from the whiplash, and this room of mine has become a damn prison.”

He tugs me closer. “I’m so sorry, beloved. If you don’t want to worry about school anymore, you just have to wish it.” “You’re sweet… but I can’t do that. I have to do this work myself – otherwise I may have the degree but I won’t have earned it.”

“And that is why I adore you so much.” He pauses thoughtfully, then asks “Is this all that’s truly bothering you? Its certainly enough to have anyone rattled, but I feel like there may be more.”

I give off a mirthless laugh. I should have known he would notice something. He was too damn perceptive. “Maybe you’re right about that.”

“Mmm.” He acknowledges me, looking at me expectantly. His warm brown eyes show nothing but love and patience.

“Well… I don’t think gods deal with this sort of thing really but… Are you familiar with illnesses of the mind?”

“Well, I have heard of punishment cases of humans who have lost their grip on reality and hurt other because of it. Hue has mentioned though that are lots of different ways humans can be sick, physically and mentally, and that not all of them are so violent as those instances.”

I focus my gaze on the ceiling above me and take a deep breath. He waits patiently for me to say something. When I don’t, he prompts me, “I’m going to assume you suffer from an ailment of the mind as well?”

“It’s… humans call it depression.” “And what is it like?” “It can be different for anyone… But for me I can’t concentrate, and I just want to sleep all day. And all night. And just always. Always sleep. Because everything hurts, and I don’t want it to. I can’t even do the easiest assignment in the world! I can’t concentrate, and it hurts. I’m going to fail my classes and it hurts. I can’t see my family and it hurts. I can’t even take a fucking shower most days. And it hurts. Everything hurts. And it won’t stop. I can’t make it stop. I can’t make my brain shut up, and it just keeps telling me how shitty I am and-“

“Darling.” Karno calmly cuts me off. He’s taken my hand, and is slowly uncurling my fingers from my palms. I hadn’t noticed it, but I was clenching my fists so tightly that my nails had drawn blood in small crescent moons all over my palms. He rubs my back soothingly as he kisses away the tears marking my face. “How long has this been going on for?”

“All my life it comes and goes. Its… its been over a year since it’s been bad though. I was starting to think that maybe it was gone for good – it’s the longest I’ve been okay! I’ve been… good actually. I met you, I’ve made friends for the first time in my life, I’ve actually enjoyed school… But since this quarantine happened, its back. Its soul crushing, because now I know. I was naïve. It’s never going to go. It’s going to be with me forever.”

“Well. It’s a good thing I’m going to be with you forever too.”

I look up at him in shock. “Really? You don’t think I’m some kind of weirdo?” “You are a weirdo dear, but that’s because you don’t like spicy food. If we can get past that, we can get past anything.” I giggle a bit before he continues. “It breaks my heart to hear you’ve been dealing with this alone. But you don’t have to anymore, okay? Anytime you are sad, or lonely, I’m only a wish away.”

“But your work-“

“Let me worry about my work. As I said before, you are the most important thing to me.” As his words sink in, they fill me up to the brim and spill out as tears. “Please don’t cry anymore, my love. I’m here.”

“Can you just hold me?”

“Of course.”

I stay in his warm embrace, and close my eyes to inhale his scent. I could never quite place what he smelled like – probably something too divine for the likes of earth. It smells like citrus and… cinnamon, maybe. He runs his hands through my hair as I cry, and he murmurs soft words of comfort and love until I fall asleep there in his arms.

In the morning, my eyes are sore and puffy from the night before. I wake up warm and comfortable, and I realize Karno is still wrapped around me. Noticing I’m awake, he smiles gently “Good morning.” “You’re still here? I thought you would have left after I fell asleep?” He raises a questioning eyebrow. “Did you want me to?” “No!” I protest, probably a bit too quickly.

He smiles and gives me a soft, slow kiss.

“I do have to be going, my love. But I have a parting gift for you.”

“You do?” I look up at him curiously.

“Indeed. Do you remember my special power?” I nod my head, of course I do. “Well, I figured the least I can do is magnify your happiness, and productivity.” “But I thought that you could only magnify exiting properties… I don’t have either of those right now.” “Oh?” Karno smirked. “Then are you unhappy right now to see me?”

“No!”

“I know you, dearest. I know you are positive, and you are one of the most self-motivated people I know. They’re in there.” He leans over ad gives me a kiss on the forehead. Immediately, I feel a lightness and a warmth suffuse my body. “Remember my love, I am but a wish away.” He gently caresses my cheek, and I close my eyes to his touch. When I open them again, he’s gone.

I was sad to see him go, but no longer lonely. In fact, I felt better than I had in weeks. My love for him filled my chest until I felt like bursting.

Well then. Best not to waste a divine gift.

Time to kick an essays ass.

#Oops guess who didn't proofread #oh god here we go #scm #scm karno #star crossed myth #l365 scm #karno #scm karno fic #karno fanfic #I really didn't expect my first fic to be about Karno but here we are #I needed my sweet boy what can I say

[empty-dream]

Just watched 13 Reasons Why S4

Ended up making a full blown commentary per episode because this is finally the last season and I’ve been enjoying this mess since S1. I even forgot that it was released until a friend brought it up to me. So in short,

Ep1

OKAY WHO DIES AGAIN HUH??

Clay, narrating: *I'm good at hiding shits so my parents don't notice at all." His parents: *concernedly looking at him pale and mushing food on the dining table*

The concequences of investigating murder cases and creating conspiracies instead of studying your ass off because it's a damn school really caught up huh.

Charlie holy shit I love you he's so chill and good.

It's been years I still can't believe Justin is really adopted by the Jensens. Funny that now the table is reversed, with Justin finally actually doing better and taking care of the increasingly-ill Clay.

SCOTT!! OH MY GOD! SCOTT REED!! OH MY FUCKING GOD!! AAAAAAAAAAAAA HOLY SHIIITTTTTTTTT AAAAAAAAA!!!

Wow my headcanon is approved, he already graduated by S3. No reason he didn't hang out with the gang after all the shits in S2 if he was no longer around in the first place.

He's still so nice even in Clay's trippy nightmare. Is that what Clay remembers about him? Well not really surprising, considering Scott actually was worried about him in S2.

Good god finally Clay meets a therapist- Wait a minute that's the guy from CSI:NY?!?! Isn't Clay just gonna get clobbered instead.

Okay I knew they are really close and I do adore their relationship so much but HOLY SHIT THEY ACTUALLY GO AT IT WITH ALEX AND ZACH???

Alex: *panicking over the kiss* Zach: Ayy don't worry let's just continue perhaps-suicidally hanging out on dangerous rooftops that you were almost fall to your death from. Alex: ????

Ep2

That narration of Clay ranting about college applications. I'll drink to that bruh.

Ya I too make my applications and other supposedly important matters at 3AM instead of any other more sensible time.

Oh my fucking god that is the creepiest smile I've ever see.

I feel like as Justin gets better and better with his life, Clay goes worse.

Justin is so excited about going to college! You deserve the future man. 

The old-time stoners and drunkards are rehabbed or dead. Enter Zach.

Winston: *eyes and ears up to your shit 24/7*

Nobody likes Tyler in S1 but now everybody likes him.

Okay. Cops doing shit jobs at protecting. This feels too real with this situation right now.

Clay's adventure to put the trash into the trash bin.

Omg they got the paint to the lab this is going real CSI.

Idk about u but at this point I don't exactly want to pay attention to Jessica/Justin problems anymore.

I know Zach and Clay don't get along and that's why I need their adventure together.

Clay drunk-puking on Justin. Well well well how the turntables.

The return of Monet!!

"I have 2.8. If I work hard, I'll get 2.9" Winston omg same.

Tht held gaze between Alex and Winston.. Is this slow burn fanfiction???????

Yes Mr. CSI it will definitely get worse.

I know writing about your feelings can make you feel better but probably not in your college essay form.

Ep3

I'm starting to think Clay is the one who dies in the end? Idk tho.

I guess the toll of busting ass trying to save everyone by yourself is catastrophically high, huh, Clay? Funny that he now goes from 100 in S3 to 0 in here and that's actually realistic.

Alex and Winston are really pining each other with Zach in the background lmao.

"You don't wanna go on the Valentine Dance with me? Even as friends?" Well sometimes there are moments when you just don't go back to being friends. It's an actual normal thing.

And besides the last time Alex goes with Jess for something she wanna do, he ends up murdering somebody. So.

"Hey Zach. Hey punch me. Hey you pussy now? Hey hey. Bitch." *poke* *poke* *poke*

No Zach he's trying to save all of your asses. You can't just say that.

Charlie is really just there trying to do his best in this shitshow and like Justin I wanna laugh but also am proud.

Everyone: *being paranoid and unto each other* Alex and Winston: *having the date of their life*

I wish everyone doesn't have this level of trust issues but then again we won't have a shitstorm drama like this.

When did this become "what is love?" philosophy class?

"You know love but you love so fiercely and sometimes it hurts."Wow Mr. CSI you hit the mark.

How many parties can the Liberty High hold in a year?

"You go with Charlie to get back to Justin, right?" Wow Diego you HIT the mark.

I still have problems with Ani as a character, but I do like her casual banters with Clay.

You know, with all these trust issues, I'm surprised nobody actually tries to peek on other's phone. Like, I know that's low. But, you know, faster solution. And better than having mass hallucinations.

Oh God the football team really is a bunch of jerks. Good fucking thing Scott is outta here.

Alex and Winston almost die like couples in a cheap slasher movie.

"Fuck Love." Clay Jensen, 2019 (according to the movie timeline)

Ep4

Why is Charlie talking? Why is he wearing the football jersey? Who on earth dies?? Is it Zach? Justin? Somebody else from the football team? But the content of your speech man...

Ah yeah. Clay did survive a great big deal of many ugly shits. Single-handedly thanks to adrenaline, mostly.

Jess got a point tho. Ani could have followed Clay to stop him, by herself or with the gang. What did she do? She spied on Winston and Alex, and then went back to the dance. So much for handling anything themselves.

Or maybe, the gang shouldn't have let Ani and Clay take care of it themselves.

Does anybody in this show ever figure out Clay has dead people hallucinations?

Domestic Jensen family is my everything.

Charlie really out there bribing Zach with his homemade cookies I-

Ah yeah, I kinda forgot that in reality Alex and Winston have a really difficult situation. With Bryce and Monty stuff.

"Looking back on your time at Liberty, do you have any regrets?" Really? Isn't that all they have?

"Who do you trust most in your life and why?" Everybody: *immediately side-eyeing each other*

Clay c'mon wtf Justin is really just worried sick and trying to help you. Aaand he's gone.

Jess you don't put your hands into something without checking it first...

Why would you only send 2 adults to supervise 30-50 kids on a camping wildlife trip? They wouldn't be able to do shit.

"I thought you were a football player!" "I AM a football player! And so are YOU!" Gold.

Dream!Monty and Dream!Clay really sit like that and I almost laugh were it not for the fact that I do that too. It's strange to see that for once, they talk normally, heart-to-heart, without the usual snickering, chiding, all that venom.

Oh shit they really make Monty and Clay mirror each other like that. They both protect people they love but have tendencies to snap, one way or another.

Zach, dude, I know you've been a real good friend. But Alex almost died. Twice. Because of your drunken ways. And you laughed. Didn't you spend an entire season trying hard to not let him die again? What's wrong with you?

When did this become a horror movie?

The Standalls :((

CHARLIE MY MAN WITH HIS COOKIES. And incidentally, a wild Zach appears.

"So are we gonna fall apart or trust each other now!" Justin my man.

Clay dude that would have been an amazing entrance were it not for the fact you looked insane.

I can't fucking believe they just go normally at campfire like that. Two people almost died. Several got beaten. What the fuck.

Does it come from the bottom of your heart or it doubles as a threat, Clay?

Alex you had us at the first half not gonna lie.

GR A NO LA CA MP C O OKIES? ??

Wait. So who has been fucking around with the football team? Who moved Clay?? Huh??

Ep5

GUYS THERE IS A THING CALLED GPS ON THE PHONE?? What are you? 3?

Justin finally breaking down after 5 episodes being the most decent and healthy person around. Well Charlie is too but he's new, so.

Finally an obligatory meeting at Monet.

CYRUS AND THE PUNK GANG!!! God I love you guys where have you been. And you guys are computer geeks?!?!?! Perfect.

My question exactly, Clay. Good replies tho, Cy.

I'm still thinking how for a nerd, Clay knows A LOT of people and knows who to ask what.

"How am I even friends with you?" Ya Alex that's my question too. How are you suddenly bff with Zach? I don't remember you two being close in S1?

Hm. If you aren't holding his family at stake, there is no way Tony would even think to rat out.

Mr. CSI starts going CSI on Clay.

I almost forgot Charlie's last name is St. George. The cast goes by Charlie mostly so.

Justin really shows up at the party with the angry mom pose and disappointed look at Clay. The turntable, people. Flynn's voice got raspy.

Oh no no Clay you don't go there. Please don't split my Jensen-Foley brothers like that. Meanwhile the punk gang be like just watching there.

C O O KI E S??? Goddamn Charlie do you bring cookies everywhere you go??

Charlie my boy you T_T I was kinda suprised that the cookie baking actually had a sad backstory.

Clay-Zach bonding that I fucking wish for oh yeah. I definitely didn't expect it with piano and drunk singing tho.

While Clay is having the time of his life, Tony is seeing life flashes in his eyes.

Yassss he winssss!!!!

Caleb's expression when the sherrif hugs him lmfao

Nice try Sherrif but Tony knows your tricks.

"What of any of this is okay?" Wow things you'd never hear Justin says in S1.

Meanwhile, Charlie and Alex are high on weed cookies as fuck. Their conversation is the most interesting thing I've seen beside the Scott cameo till now.

The look on Justin's face when Clay pushes him :((

MY DUDES HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN ABOUT JEFF'S DEATH? WHAT HE WAS ACCUSED FOR?! You do not, under any circumstances, drive drunk.

Ep6

Clay be spitting truth.

They really be discussing Clay's chronic hero syndrome huh.

Okay. Operation Clay-Zach failed.

Weren't Zach all fuck it all yeah! kinda guy? Guess when you are the one who faces death it's not that fun anymore huh.

"One Clay Jensen is enough" Jess truth.

Do Alex and Charlie really study Spanish in front of Tony who is not helping at all? That would be embarrassing lmao.

Clay: Fuck off. Hallucination!Monty: *sits next to him*

Gotta hand it to Timothy Granaderos. He could go venomous to puppy eyed in 1 second. Amazing.

Man. School shootings are fucked up. There are many things I wonder about mankind and one of them is why is school shooting even possible?

Hallucination!Bryce: Hi I’m sorry I’m late. I hear this is time for Clay’s dead people hallucination party.

"Are you a hero or a martyr?" Wow they really throw the question.

And here is Clay sitting under the desk between his two most hated dead people hallucinations whispering moral dilemmas to him.

Meanwhile Winston and Zach got high.

Charlie helping Alex to breath.

The talk with Estella and Tyler.

"No offense, you are cool, but I don't wanna die with you." Zach chill lmao.

Are.. Are you sure outing that to Winston is a good call, Zach? For a guy who was super paranoid that his gang would narc him, he sure is loose mouthed himself.

I like how everyone from Tyler to Zach to Winston, admits that Alex is a really kind guy.

Wow Tony did you really expect anyone could do anything in that situation, in fucking Evergreen situation, for that matter?

Charlie is a great friend wow.

Cl-CLAY DON'T GO OUT that is EXACTLY what you are NOT supposed to do!!!

Goddamnit Clay. Holy shit Clay. 

Dylan Minnette really worked hard in this scene.

.......... WAIT A MINUTE IT'S NOW ACTUALLY CHARLIE ALEX????? Tony be just walking in.

Ep7

Clay really got into a psych ward. Talk about darkest hour. And it’s only ep 6?

Wow Ty that's some brave lines.

Which hallucination-induced person is Clay talking to before Ani gets there?

Ok that therapy session made me tear up.

These kids are having college interviews at the worst time possible. They are all fucking breaking down one way or another.

And Charlie just, really never gives up on Alex huh.

What's most important to Clay is his friends. Real quick to answer that question huh.

God Justin lashing out at the Jensens. It's the first time he does it and it hurts.

Zach holy fuck. I appreciate you didn't out it but holy fuck you didn't have to do that are you trying to die

Clay-Tony combo is back baby I miss them so much. Although perhaps Tony you would mind a bit about Clay's health because clearly he was out of it.

This is so short. I too really don't like application essays and interviews and the inevitable revisit of the sadder parts of my life because of them.

Ep8

When did this become sci-fi apocalyptic story?

God I miss the time when Clay's dreams are just Inception-styled trippy shit with Scott randomly says hello and gets him water.

Okay. Everyone's got their own way to cope with existential and moral crisis huh.

You know what, I would like one movie out of this sci-fi dream.

I knew it Tyler was a bait to smoke out illegal gun dealers. Is that... An okay thing to do for a high schooler? Sounds fucked up, all things considered.

Yaaay Justin's got the college! I'm super happy!

Wow Estella good question.

Wow Tyler good statement. If they trust each other a bit more, everything would have been a bit better.

Ah shit. Justin relapses again.

Does Tony need to be pummelled first before he finally goes all off to finish his opponent or what?

Is this going Big Brother Is Watching

What the fuck. That locker fight scene is disgusting.

Jess and Clay might throw shades at each other but together they share one brain cell.

"I think it's a walkout, Sir" Tyler lmao

Wow Zach and Alex heart-to-heart.

Cyrus really steps on some pedestal to make his point.

Aaand Zach and Alex really go all out on "doing it right" huh.

They really have students vs cops riot at this time. Talk about timing.

It's nice to see the punk gang enjoying the fighting again.

Dude what happens if you don't have anything on your bag tho.

Aaaah the punk gang with Tyler again!!

"Why are you with me and not with Charlie?" Zach ouch that hurts.

Zach no no no Zach get out of there too Zach pls

Clay really becomes 2nd in command to Jess huh.

Charlie tries to save Clay but gets whacked on the head instead. 

Tony you came back!! Oh so that college scout was.. Oh.

Oh shit Clay. Oh. Shit. I should have realized that. Goddamn.

Ep9

"I like sleep." Charlie me too. 

God Alex and Charlie literally sleep together jaldjwaownaljewoalsj that some cute shit.

Wow Clay really takes Mr. CSI's advice to round up the gang and confesses. That's a step.

Charlie sometimes has a good idea, huh.

The Jensens meeting is probably the reason why the idea of parenthood scares me.

Also Clay and Justin really put the practice of "tell the parents the less-harsh-but-still-harsh truth, then ask them to get prom back" by the book. And it's awkward.

Aww Charlie coming out to his dad and the response he gets... When you put the rich fams like Dempseys, Walkers and Saint Georges together, the last one is really the only healthy one huh.

Way to go Jess!

Ah I forgot Alex has an older brother.

Aaaahhh Charlie has dinner with the Standalls! Their reaction is so sweet!

"Does he make you happy?" "Yeah. A lot." AHDKWJWOAKDUWLAOEL I mean after everything that has happened to Alex, man I am so happy he can say that with a fond smile.

WHAT THE FUCK HAHAHAHHA CHARLIE WHAT THE FUCK HOLY SHIT LMFAO I THOUGHT THIS WAS JUST AN TRIPPY ANIMATED IMAGINATION THING and Alex is so done with his extra shit.

Wow Ani you do karaoke good, asking Jess out even better.

OH MY GOD IT ESCALATED. Also Alex is right that one is creepy Charlie.

I thought by special doughnut Caleb means some diet-related stuff fit to Tony's menu for fighting. Why didn't I expect a literal Will You Go To Prom doughnuts?

CHARLIE PLEASE STOP AHAHAHAHA you dumb rich kid where did you get all those lamps and prop candles.

"Would you love me any less?" Aww Clay knows Justin loves him.

"You three all look adorable" Ya Jess, same.

Tony really out there doing the "I'm here because he's here" to Caleb.

Clay, Alex, and Charlie be like judging Zach hard.

Oh right that one kid from Cyrus's gang is gay and he brought his boyfriend!

Zach: You two sitting here like it's a funeral. Also Zach: *proceeds to continue sitting as well*

"We deserve to live." Finally something from Zach's mouth that I can agree for this season.

I love that Tony and Caleb are such good friends to Clay.

And now it's Winston turn for dead people hallucination.

..... The door to the other side again.. :'''((

CHARLIE AND ALEX WON THE PROM KINGS AAAAAAHHHHHH I mean with all those extra efforts, it'd be hard to not to. And there goes Alex finally giving in to dance.

I don't like Luke the football guy when he's the enemy but I like him when he's a friend. He's a hype man lmao.

Alex I'm so happy for you man. I'm glad you are finally happy. My heart was tight at the dance part .

Everyone: *dances* Clay: *sits there, monologuing philosophically*

I like that Clay and Ani finally being honest that they don't fit each other romantically. As romance goes there is not much romantic tension between them. And they have way too many flawed traits that when paired, would turn the relationship sour and possibly toxic in the end.

Justin do u like to show up and make everyone step aside for you or what.

I like that Clay was just watching from a distance. Then at last minute decided to join the crowd with his mother, whom he had a few trust issues with in all seasons.

Charlie: "Foundry's gay?!" Alex: "Mind's blown" Me: Same.

There has been nothing wrong going on in one episode, aside from the Zach one that's timely stopped by Charlie and Alex. I'm suspicious.

Ah. Yes. Of course.

Oh my god Justin's the one dead huh?

Ep10

Oh thank God he hasn't died. Yet.

Oh God Justin no. No no no.

Get your shit together Zach. Even Charlie tells you that.

No no no not like this not after everything oh god.

Somebody would you actually please run after Clay too.

Oh my god Clay.

Oh my god Alex you. Even when he admits it to Winston, he still covers for Jess. I- oh god.

It's been only 15 minutes and it hurts.

Charlie and Alex, the moms of the group.

You know, for a guy who says he doesn't love Justin, Alex gives a lot of shit about him. I guess you can still be around people you don't like?

I know the kiss is huge news Charlie but that's not the issue here lmao.

Zach: *hugs Clay* Clay: ????? Alex and Charlie: ?????? Zach: *pats Tyler's head* *leans on Clay*

The Padillas :''')

Clay Jensen. Class speaker. Wow.

Yeah Mr. CSI's voice is really calm, rather chilling, actually.

"You've looked at death too many times for a young person." Damn right Mr. Jensen.

Ah so that's the reason why Zach stole that letter. Makes sense, emotionally.

You know, I did say Idc anymore about Justin/Jessica problems but when it gets to this point, I can't not care.

So many people come to the hospital...

Clay and Justin's talk. I'm sorry I can't hold it in anymore. I'm fucking sobbing at this moment.

He's dead. He's dead. He's dead just like his mom. But he died not in the same way. He died holding his bro's hand. He died surrounded by his family. He died with people who loved him around.

"After everything, this is how it ends." Fucck

DID HE HAVE TO DIE??? DID JUSTIN FOLEY-JENSEN HAVE TO DIE?? Did you really have to put yet another sucker punch in the last episode of the season?? Yeah I know real kids and people do die from AIDS but really? After a whole season of Clay screaming kids wants to live to the point he lost his mind???

I spent the entire funeral screen crying. I couldn't even scream again when Scott is present in the funeral. I know he'd be there but god I can't right now.

Mr. CSI sure knows super effective ways to make Clay react.

"If Justin's dead, the none of the rest of it matters. " Clay..

He opens up.

Oh yeah I forgot Charlie is a junior.

AAAA COURTNEY AND RYAN ARE HERE!!! I MISS YOU GUYS!!!!!

SCOTTTTT!!!!!! And CHLOE TOO!! It’s nice that they come together. But they aren’t like, together, right? I mean if he is her boyfriend she would say his name right away to Zach instead of a mere ‘would you like to meet him? He’s outside.’

These 4 are such good friends to attend their friends’ graduation ceremony.

The punk guys in toga are so... Refreshing to look. Such hype men.

"It's easy to hate. It's easy to fear. It's goddamn hard to love. But it's not optional. It's essential." Jessica Davis, everybody.

Jeff, Hannah and Justin really died in the span of 2 years. Add to that is Bryce and Monty, whose deaths left uncountable traumas on top of existing traumas. Yeah. It was hellish time.

Scott’s proud small smile when Clay gives his speech. Im love.

"Choose to live. Even on the worst day, life is a pretty spectacular thing." Clay Jensen, everybody.

Ma boi Zach really teared up at Clay's speech. 

Luke and one of the punk kids talking about some geek thing I am not familiar with I-

“No offense Luke. You’ve got great arm but you haven’t been known for your brain.” PETER That BURNS LMAO

Poor Winston just being alone. OH HELLO RYAN YOU ARE FAST.

Zach is gonna study music! Nice foreshadowing since he plays a lot of music this season.

Clay having a gratitude moment with his parents and Scott be like munching cupcakes in the background.

Oh god Hannah ...

Wow the old tape gang is here!! The nostalgia hurts.

They bury the tapes on the same hill again asdfwosaiofai.

Kinda salty Sheri and Scott aren’t here. But then again I guess back then Scott was just helping Clay and co when he could and mostly minding his own business. HOWEVER isn’t Sheri like in the tape and pretty prominent too :(( Like she was really cool with Clay (despite the whole guilt over Jeff), tried to make amends and really helped with the polaroid cases.

Also you can't just insert Scott in Clay's dream and then not have them interact in the end. The dream was such a perfect bait. Like we know at least they apparently get along well.

Everything in Jessica’s final conversation with her Bryce hallucination. Everything in it.

Ryan: “Gordon Lightfoot?” Ha Ryan you miss a whole lot of drama.

Fuck I'm tearing up again at Justin's essay. He deadass makes an entire essay about Clay and how he is his savior I- 

Oh my god they end it exactly like S1 with Tony and Clay riding away. They are really each other’s ride or die.

That’s it. It’s over. It’s been a long trainwreck. So the 2019 class graduates, so does Justin, they are doing uni right now and keeping in touch with everyone. Bye.

#13 reasons why #13 reasons why season 4 #random saying

[reveriequill-rai]

Blood Candy: Chapter 5

The night was worse than expected. 

I had gotten started on the essay at around 5pm. 

It was now nearly 1am. 

I had to reread many sections of Dracula in order to finish my notes, and planning took forever. I still had to write the second half of the essay, but I found myself with not even enough energy to do that.

To make matters worse, school would be canceled on Friday due to an expected hurricane. Because of this, the essay was now due tomorrow--or today, rather.

Why not just make the essay due on Monday? I thought furiously. We did spend quite some time going over the book in class, but in all honesty, I had dozed off through many of the discussions. Even for a book about vampires, everything about this unit was boring.

I could barely keep my eyes away as I stared at the computer screen. 

Suddenly, I heard a sharp and forceful *click* as my door slowly creaked open.

My door, in case you forgot, had been locked. 

I turned around.

I just wanna go to sleep… 

There was Seb, peering through the crack in the doorway.

“Seb…” I said drowsily, “It’s 1am. Please, go to bed. I’m so tired.”

Seb closed the door back. I tried locking it again…but for some reason the door still opened. 

Of course he broke the lock… I thought bitterly. But how did he get that strength…? Aren’t sick people normally supposed to be weak from their illness?

I gave up and collapsed on my bed, throwing my covers on top of me lazily. I decided that I had a valid enough excuse to not have my essay done, praying that my English teacher would come through with an extension…

…and that Seb felt better by morning. 

By 3am, I was woken up by heavy breathing and tingling sensation on my wrist. I woke up to find Seb—again—right next to me in bed, focusing on my wrist and caressing the area where my veins were. I woke up with a start, banging my head against the wall beside my bed.

“OW!” I cried. “Seb! What are you—“ I pulled my arm away, but Seb held on tight to my wrist. His breathing had only gotten faster, heavier and more labored, and he stared at me with wide, focused, and…red…eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness. A ravenous smile crept across his face as he suddenly pulled out the small knife that was in his other hand, still grabbing my arm with his other hand. His rapid and heavy breathing had turned into manic giggling as I just barely managed to pull my arm away, cutting my finger on the knife Seb wielded. Immediately, Seb’s attention switched to the blood on his knife—my blood—as he tasted it.

You read that correctly. My best friend had just tasted my blood.

“You…freak…” I muttered. Seb turned to me suddenly, and I burst out of the room and down the dark hallway, desperately fumbling my way through the darkness. 

I turned around as I ran down the hallway, and noticed that Seb had disappeared. I took this opportunity to hide in the closet in my living room, pushing past all of the coats, jeans, and reserved Halloween costumes and hiding in the corner of the closet. I reached over to the door desperately and closed it back as quietly as I could. 

Unfortunately, my closet doors were incredibly creaky.

My heart rate increased almost exponentially as I heard distant footsteps growing closer. 

He’s gonna check the closet he’s gonna check the closet he’s gonna check the closet-

Of course he will. He’s seen movies. 

Thoughts and questions started spinning through my head endlessly. How did this happen? Why is he doing this? Did I do something wrong?

Seb’s footsteps started to fade off a bit. I checked my pocket for my phone—

Nothing.

Dammit.

I listened out for Seb’s footsteps, slowly cracking the closet door open just wide enough so I could easily sneak out. As the closet door creaked open, the footsteps stopped. 

He knows he knows he knows he knows-

I crawled quickly behind a nearby couch, right before I saw Seb turn around, knife still in hand. He walked toward the closet, swinging it open as he raised his knife. He walked away defeatedly, leaving the doors open. I stayed behind the couch, trying to still my breathing. Suddenly, Seb appeared right beside me—but he wasn’t looking at me. He hadn’t even seen me. He just walked right beside the couch, continuing his search elsewhere. 

Did he know I was here…? 

Even if he was toying with me, I wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip. As soon as he was out of sight, I bolted back into my room to grab my phone, then into the guest room—where Seb often stayed for the night whenever he came over—and hid in the closet there instead. I pondered who to call first—my mom or the police. Then again, my mom was away from the house, so it would probably be safer to text her and call the cops to come to my house. That being said, it would also probably be faster if I just called them immediately, if only by a minute or so. Anything can happen in a minute. 

Unfortunately, the police in my area didn’t have a text-to-911 system, so if I was going to contact them, I would have no choice but to call.

So I texted my mom instead.

“don’t come to the house until i tell you to,” I messaged her, “seb is trying to kill me”

There was no response for about a minute.

“Is this a prank?” she finally responded.

“no i’m serious he has a knife”

“I want to believe you,” she asked, “but he wouldn’t do something like that. He’s not that kind of person, sweetheart.” 

“JUST CALL THE COPS MOM,” I demanded, “YOU KNOW I WOULDN’T LIE ABOUT THIS”

“You’re right. I will,” she said. “Please try to stay calm. I understand this situation may be stressful but you must stay calm. If you allow yourself to panic, you will lose focus, and therefore control, of the situation. Where are you right now?”

“the closet in seb’s room, it’s the last place he would check”

“Good. Stay there. I’m going to call the police in a few minutes. Please try to hold out until then.”  

I put my phone down, tears running down my face. My own best friend was trying to kill me, and there was no way I could stop him. A horrible feeling coursed through me, and at first I couldn’t tell what it was.

But it didn’t take long for me to figure out. The only reason it was so unfamiliar was because I was never in this kind of situation before. 

I knew what this feeling was. 

This was fear. Pure, raw fear. 

I have to hold out for a few minutes until Mom can call 911. I cursed the Clueham Police Department for not having text-to-911 technology. I cursed Seb for even trying to kill me in the first place. I cursed myself for giving Seb that godforsaken candy in the first place. I cursed Jasper for even giving it to me in the first place.

But a piece of candy wouldn’t do this…right?

I picked up my phone and sent one more message to mom.

“i love you”

Suddenly, a kitchen knife shot through the closet door just inches from my face. I dropped my phone, startled before I could hit the send button. Both doors swung open as Seb removed the knife. A furious grimace crossed his face as he aimed the knife at me once more. 

That’s when I noticed something about his eyes--they had changed again. 

His once red eyes had turned into a red and white spiral akin to the pattern of a peppermint. 

I rammed my knee into his stomach as he doubled over from the shock, and I grabbed the baseball bat by the door. Instantly, I crashed the hard wooden bat into the side of his head with all the force I could muster, knocking him out cold. I dragged him into the closet and placed a padlock on it.

I did it. I had…survived, somehow. But only on my own accord. It’s not a matter of whether or not Seb would actually do it—there was no longer any question about that—but a matter of whether or not I could actually handle his insane bloodlust. If I had faltered, even for a second, there’s a high chance I wouldn’t even be here right now. It would’ve been me on the floor instead of Seb.

At least he would’ve just been unconscious. 

Though I was safe, my heart continued to pound in my chest just as it had been when I was hiding in the closet, so much so that I almost thought it would jump out. I tried to distract myself by checking the text my mom had sent me, informing me that she had called the police and they were on their way to the house. Night school had just finished and there was a good chance she would be home by the time they got there. She knew that I was tired, so she decided to just let me rest while she took care of the legal stuff—I would give my account of what happened to her, which she would then give to the police. As for Seb…well, that remained to be seen.

I almost just wanted to not say anything…I didn’t want my friend to get in trouble. It wasn’t even his fault, or at least I don’t think it is…As I sat on the couch, trying to still my thundering heart, I contemplated which scenario was more likely: that Seb hated me so much that he wanted to kill me and had been harboring it for who-knows-how-long, or that a piece of hard cherry candy turned my best friend of over 11 years into a ruthless killing machine who wanted nothing more than to drain every last ounce of blood out of my system. I didn’t want to admit that either of them could be a possibility…but I knew of no drug that could possibly make people bloodthirsty. 

What I did know, however, was that 4 straight years of your best friend constantly criticizing and berating your ideas could really put a dent in the ego…and in a relationship. Don’t get me wrong, I supported Seb, Akira, and their conspiracy theory website—as any good friend should—but lying right to Seb’s face and saying there weren’t holes in his ideas would be just as bad as not supporting him at all. That being said, Seb was a pretty sensitive kid, for better or worse. I thought I was doing him a favor. Turns out I was just doing this new, bloodthirsty Seb a favor and digging my own grave.

So yeah. The thought of a piece of candy turning him insane—though not necessarily impossible—seemed pretty foreign.

I didn’t want to say anything. I didn’t want to blame him. 

But I had to say something. Even then, I still didn’t blame him.

Exhausted, exasperated, and terrified, I collapsed in Seb’s bed and hoped that I woke up the next morning.

#blood candy #fiction #urban fantasy #original story #vampire

[vicmackie-blog1]

in honor of it being mental health awareness month, i decided to share my personal narrative I wrote for one of my english senior projects. this essay means to much to me so i hope you guys like it :)

Personal Narrative

Have you ever wondered what runs through a person’s mind who has anxiety? It’s not just little worries and fears. It’s way more than that. For me, it is something that affects my life more than any physical illness I have ever had. It affects me in a way that people would call “dark”. This is my story and my life.

Let's start with what most people think anxiety is. Most people think it is just another word for freaking out about shit. They think it’s a word that can just be thrown around here and there for laughs. Well guess what, its not. Throwing out that word that affects people a lot actually makes the ones who are professionally diagnosed pissed off. I get so mad when people throw around that word will yell at them but guess what, to me they deserved to be yelled at for saying that word. It triggers this anger in me whenever somebody throws that word around which i cannot help. I guess it’s just caused from how much shit i go through having this mental illness.

Anxiety sucks. It makes you fear everything. Even yourself. It can also causes other mental illnesses to happen too. In 10th grade, I noticed something was wrong with me. I was already diagnosed with anxiety when I was younger but it did not start to fully affect me until sophomore year. I noticed that I started feeling sad. Really sad. I would cry over everything and nothing. I would be scared of everything and that is when I learned that one of my biggest fears was myself. I started having these thoughts that scared me so much that I could not focus on anything. These thoughts caused really bad panic attacks but they would only happen at night right before I went to bed. They made me cry and silently scream until I passed out. I would not let anybody know about them. Why? Because I was scared of getting judged. I was scared of people thinking I was insane and that people would say I’m fine and just overreacting. So I started telling myself that. I would tell myself that I was fine when I actually was not. It was after a few months where I finally came forward and told my guidance counselor what was going on in my head. I broke down in her office talking to her and my mom about it. Those tears were for two reasons. Being afraid still and finally being able let those emotions I held in for months out. My guidance counselor then told my mom that I needed to see a counselor again and that’s when I knew, my anxiety has gotten worse.

I left school 12 times that year. Both my academic classes and shop were hard for me to stay in and focus in. I guess you could say that the guidance office became a second home to me. I felt like the world was against me. That it wanted me to suffer and cry everyday and feel numb. My anxiety getting worse was a new feeling to me. I never knew my emotions could be so affected by a mental illness. My emotions were and still are an emotional rollercoaster. Literally one moment I will be happy and the next I could be crying my ass off.

You’re probably wondering what being numb feels like or what it is. I hate talking about it because it can trigger me and make me feel it right after I say it but hey, this story is about my life so I have to say it. It is a terrifying feeling. All these thoughts and voices come through my head telling me things and it makes me not want to talk or even do anything. It is so hard to get out of bed when I have that happen. They are inner demons that destroy that bit of happiness you had that day. The demons don’t want you happy. No, they want you to feel mental and emotional pain.

11th grade was probably the best year for me mentally. I barely left school and I learned how to deal with it during that year. It never got in the way with anything and it never crept up on me. The only time it started to affect me again was at the end of 4th quarter. I started to have no motivation to do anything and it was a struggle for me. I had no idea why this was suddenly happening again. I didn’t want it to happen again. I thought I was done dealing with this shit for a while. For a few years at least but nope, it got worse.

12th grade. Senior year. The year of school that is said to be the best. Well nope, not for me. I mean, it was still a good year for me but it wasn’t for my mental health. In august, a week before school started, I notice I started to feel like I did in 10th grade. Then it went away for about a month. But then it came back but this time worst than ever. Sad all the time, gave attitude to everybody, bad panics attacks, all the stuff I should be used to. I gave so much attitude to my parents and would yell at them and be pissed at them a lot which I still feel like shit for. I would have so many attacks and I would forget about them right after and be confused on what just happened. I was so confused about everything at that time. I left so lost and felt like nothing was real. It was a very scary feeling that I will never forget and that will never leave me.

I went to my counselor a few days after having a huge fight with my parents. I did have counselor appointments scheduled for every other week but this one was different. I told her what has been going on for about a month and let's just say it was very dark. I let out all of these emotions I have been holding in for a while and she listened which is what I needed. She then told me that my brain goes through changes every two years. Which meant that my anxiety has gotten worse over a two year span. Wonderful isn't it. Yeah no let’s just say my life came crashing down again that day. It was like 10th grade all over again but much worse this time.

I was told that I needed to be put on anxiety medication that day. I was so scared of being put on medication because of everything I have heard badly about it. I’ve heard that it could make your anxiety worse, that it wouldn’t work, and that the side effects were bad. I had to see another counselor to prescribe my medication to me. I still see both of these counselors to this day too. She then put me on Zoloft which worked for about two months. Started off with a small dose and worked my way up. It did wonders for me until one night when I had a bad reaction to it which was, a bad anxiety attack. It felt like I was choking and couldn't breathe. I was scratching myself trying to figure out a way to get out of my body. I couldn’t move for about a half hour but when I finally could I went downstairs and choke out as much words as I can. That got my parents attention that I was not okay. It took them awhile for them to calm me down but once they did I was so tired and drained that I stayed home from school the next day. That day was also the day I went back to my other counselor (one that prescribes me my medicine). I told her about the reaction I had and she then prescribed me two new medications. Hydroxyzine which is for when I feel like shit that day and Lamotrigine is the one I take everyday. I have been on both of these medications for about four months now and I haven't had a bad reaction to them at all and I am so grateful for that because I hate switching medications so much.

Even though I have bad anxiety which most people don’t really understand what it is like my friends do and I am also grateful for that too. They can tell when something is wrong with me and try their best to help me get out of that funk. They make me happy to be in school if I am having a bad day. They let me rant to them when something is wrong. They care about me, which is something I appreciate a lot. I know a lot of people care for me but it is hard when your mind takes over and tells you that they don’t. They are probably the best friends I could ever ask for and I am going to miss them when we all graduate, even though two of them are going to the same college as me.

So that is my story and the shit that happens with anxiety. It is a lot to deal with and figure out how to deal with but trust me, I am learning to slowly. This was honestly so hard for me to write at first because I absolutely hate writing about myself. But once I got the hang of it, It was a breeze to write. This was such a dark topic for me to write about but to be honest, I enjoyed it. It made me feel better writing this out because not many people actually know what goes through my mind on a daily basis, but now you do.

[writing-about-larry]

When his best friend tried to shove a piece of paper right under his nose, Harry was quick to bat it away. 

“Lou please, I’m trying to work, I was really getting somewhere with this one tricky sentence,“ Harry groaned, not lifting his glance from the various sheets piled in front of him. His small desk space was littered all over with books, pencils, and even more books, most of them battered and their pages yellowed by their sheer age. 

“There’s a reason I like working in the library, you know?“ Harry sighed. “It’s nice not having Peppermint constantly step on whatever it is I’m working on and demanding attention every second.“

Harry finally looked up at his best friend, and found that there were indeed some similarities between his cat and Louis. He was giving Harry the exact same glance Lucy liked to fixate him with when Harry denied her access to his desk. 

Apart from that, Louis was equally irresistible. “What do you want?“ Harry asked, marking the spot where he left off translating with his finger. 

“Look!“ Louis proclaimed excitedly and way too loud for any common library, and once again held a piece of paper right into Harry’s face. Their library, however, was luckily far from common and on top of that, Harry and Louis were - as usual - hidden away in the dimmest corner. Harry took the sheet into his own hand and waited for Louis to enlighten him further about what exactly he was looking at. 

“I just looked up that one commentary, you know, the one Payne wants us to read for Latin Literature III, about Juvenal?“

Harry nodded, urging Louis to continue. Meanwhile, he inspected the paper and the scribblings on it further. 

“Yeah, and this fell out!“ Louis finished the story excitedly. 

“So why don’t you put it back in and read the damn commentary? You could bring it over when you’re done, I need to look some things up as well, for example-“ Harry said, giving the sheet back to Louis. 

Louis didn’t let him finish his sentence. “But Harry, no, honestly, you haven’t even taken a proper look at it! It’s written in some sort of code,“ he said, lowering his voice as if he were telling Harry a secret. 

Harry sighed. “Louis, there are so many weird people in this library studying weird languages. Somebody must’ve forgotten their notes in this book, happens all the time. We’re probably one of the most normal people, just studying Latin. D’you remember that one guy sitting in our spot last time? The one with the fat metal chain round his neck and the satanistic-themed shirt with… what… ancient Viking runes on it or some shit? There’s so many strange people around.“

“I’ll bet you that this is no known language, it’s a code!“ Louis insisted, holding the paper back into Harry’s face. 

“You must’ve read too much The Three Investigators or Five Find-Outers or something when you were little, Louis. Let it go and just fetch the commentary, please.“

Louis sighed, but let Harry return to his translation homework. “I’m taking a photo of it, though, and I’m gonna find out what this is,“ he insisted. 

“You do that,“ Harry mumbled. 

X X X

“Have y’all gotten anywhere with that damn translation homework yet?“ With a thump, Niall sat down next to Louis and Harry in the lecture hall, spreading his things all over the writing surface and interrupting their conversation. 

“Hi to you, Niall,“ Harry greeted Niall. “And no, I got stuck at a particularly terrible sentence, I’ve got no idea whatsoever what it’s supposed to mean.“

“Sounds like it might be an ancient dick joke once again,“ Niall joked, poking Harry in the ribs. 

“Might well be, I’ll leave it up to you to detect those. Everyone should do what they do best,“ Harry was quick to respond. 

“Oi! Now I’m getting a reputation for being the local dick joke expert?“ Niall asked, feigning exasperation. “All it takes is finding a boyfriend and pointing out what was definitely a dick joke in class once?“

“Well, mate, better deal with it,“ Louis piped up. “I haven’t even started on Juvenal yet, but I dug up that commentary and-“

“Not again,“ Harry groaned and shot a desperate look at the clock. If he was lucky, the lecture would start soon and he would be spared to hear all of the so-called mystery Louis had discovered. 

Harry had no such luck, it was still five minutes early; however, Niall seemed little more interested than Harry himself, which filled Harry with some hope that Louis might let it go soon. 

Five minutes early became five minutes late, became ten minutes late, became fifteen minutes late. Around then, everybody in the lecture hall started checking their phones for e-mails that might announce that the lecture had been cancelled, some people left the lecture hall, some others started busying themselves with other work. 

Harry checked his e-mail as well, but turned up empty-handed, just like everybody else. 

“Maybe Rexha had an accident on her bike,“ Niall suggested to explain their professor’s absence. “She nearly ran me over with it last time, did I tell y’all? She’s a crazy biker and I was just walking through the underpass, totally oblivious, not harming anyone, and suddenly she just-“

Niall was interrupted by said professor bursting into the lecture hall, her coat flapping, her usually neat hair completely messed up and sticking to her forehead. She did give off the impression of just having narrowly escaped an accident. Without a word, she dumped her satchel on the lecturer’s desk and only then looked up at the now-silent students. 

“Dear students, I have a very sad announcement to make. As you might notice, I am deeply affected and distraught, but I understand that you must and deserve to know as well. Nothing more than a mere half hour ago, Mr Payne was found in his office, dead. We do not know anything more as of yet, and I ask you not to jump to any conclusions and make any unjustified assumptions. All of his lectures will of course be cancelled until further notice, although this certainly is not our first concern now.“

“What? That can’t be true,“ Louis exclaimed in shock, a bit too loudly. Mr Payne had been a favourite for almost everyone at the department, although he insisted on burdening the students with insane amounts of homework. 

“I’m afraid it is, Ms Tomlinson,“ the professor addressed Louis. “I don’t want to believe it, either, but I am afraid that we have to accept this fact. As I cannot answer any questions you might have, let us now turn our attention to ancient Roman culture, as we must. I am sure that it would have also been in Mr Payne’s interest to continue this lecture as best as possible.“

X X X

“Again, Lou, this is not The Five Find-Outers, he probably had a heart attack or something,“ Harry repeated. “As terrible as it is, it’s not getting better if we start circulating conspiracy theories.“

“It’s not a conspiracy theory, Harry. People do get murdered, you know? It doesn’t only happen in horror movies,“ Louis insisted. 

“I agree with Harry,“ Niall said, “maybe he read a shockingly terribly student essay and, you know… No, sorry, that was actually tasteless, sorry. Payne was a good sport, despite all that homework. I’m just trying to wrap my head around all of it.“

“You’ll see soon enough that I wasn’t just fantasising, I’m sure!“ Louis repeated.

“Okay, Lou, you can say told you so when that happens, alright?“ Harry tried to settle his best friend, “we’re all just in shock, that’s all.“

X X X

The rumours that Mr Payne might not have died a natural death spread all throughout the department like a wildfire. Still, it was expectable, what with Mr Payne still being young and not known to be seriously ill. As could have been expected as well, Louis was in the middle of all the theories, although he didn’t spread his thoughts beyond their friend group. 

Only two days after the news had started spreading, Harry saw him in the library, bent over the fat commentary he had fished the sheet of paper out of. 

“Busy conspiring again, are we?“ Harry joked when he sat down next to him, setting down his laptop and a few books of his own. 

“Yes, and I might even be getting somewhere,“ Louis replied. 

Would you like to see this continued? Would you like to see this continued for you? 

Simple as that, you can! I am participating in @1dfanworksforcharity and by bidding on this fic and donating to charity, the continuation of this fic could be truly yours! As of now, you can still bid for less than 10$, so take the chance!

All further infos are here, the post for my offer is here, and you can bid here. Contact me with any questions, I’d love to continue this story specifically for you! <3

If you cannot bid but would love to see this continued, please spread it so someone else can bid on it! 

#my writing #fanfiction #Larry stylinson #1dfanworksforcharity #larry stylinson fanfiction

[a-year-of-musicals]

Day 183/365 - Spring Awakening

By Steven Sater and Duncan Sheik

Wendla Bergmann, an adolescent in late-nineteenth-century Germany, laments that her mother gave her "no way to handle things" and has not taught her the lessons she is meant to know as a young woman (Mama Who Bore Me). She tells her mother that it is time she learned where babies come from, considering that she is about to be an aunt for the second time. Her mother cannot bring herself to explain the facts about conception clearly to Wendla, despite knowing her daughter is reaching puberty. Instead, she simply tells Wendla that to conceive a child a woman must love her husband with all of her heart. The other young girls in town – Martha, Thea, Anna and Ilse – appear to be similarly naïve and are upset about the lack of knowledge presented to them (Mama Who Bore Me Reprise).

At school, some teenage boys are studying Virgil in Latin class. When Moritz Stiefel, a very nervous and anxious young man, sleepily misquotes a line, the teacher chastises him harshly. Moritz’s classmate, the rebellious and highly intelligent Melchior Gabor, tries to defend him, but the teacher will have none of it, and hits Melchior with a stick. Melchior reflects on the shallow narrow-mindedness of school and society and expresses his intent to change things (All That's Known).

Moritz describes a dream that has been keeping him up at night, and Melchior realizes that Moritz has been having erotic dreams which Moritz believes are signs of insanity. To comfort the panicked Moritz, Melchior, who has learned sexual information from books, tells Moritz that all of the boys at their age get these dreams. Moritz, Melchior and the other boys – Ernst, Hänschen, Otto and Georg – share their own sexually frustrated thoughts and desires (The Bitch of Living). Moritz, who is not comfortable talking about the subject with Melchior, requests that he give him the information in the form of an essay, complete with illustrations.

All the girls, save Ilse, are gathered together after school and tease each other as they fantasize about marrying the boys in the town. Martha admits that she has a crush on Moritz, but is made fun of by the other girls. At the top of the list is the radical, intelligent, and good-looking Melchior (My Junk). Moritz has eagerly digested the essay that Melchior prepared for him, but complains that his new knowledge has only made his dreams even more vivid and torturous. Melchior tries to calm and comfort his friend, but Moritz runs off in frustration. All of the boys and girls express their desires for physical intimacy (Touch Me).

Searching for flowers for her mother, Wendla stumbles upon Melchior. The two reminisce on the friendship they once shared as children and share a moment while sitting together in front of a tree. Each of them considers what it would be like to give in to their physical desires for one another (The Word of Your Body), but they do not do so. Meanwhile, at school, Moritz sneaks a look at his test results and is thrilled to learn that he has passed his midterm examinations, and tells the other boys. They are ecstatic, save the skeptical Hänschen. However, the teacher and schoolmaster, who claim they cannot pass everyone, decide to fail Moritz anyway, deeming his passing grade still not up to the school's lofty standards.

Martha accidentally admits to her friends that her father abuses her physically and sexually and that her mother is either oblivious or uncaring. The other girls are horrified to hear this, but Martha makes them promise not to tell anyone, lest she end up like Ilse, a friend from childhood who now wanders homeless and aimless after her similarly abusive parents kicked her out of the house (The Dark I Know Well). Later, Wendla finds Melchior again at his spot in the woods and tells him about Martha's abuse. Melchior is appalled to hear this, but Wendla convinces him to hit her with a switch, so that she can try to understand Martha’s pain. At first Melchior is determined to do nothing of the sort, but reluctantly complies. He gets carried away in the beating, taking his own frustrations out on Wendla and throws her to the ground. Disgusted with himself, Melchior runs off as Wendla is left lying on the ground, weeping. Alone, Wendla finds that Melchior has left his journal on the ground. She picks it up and takes it with her.

Moritz is told he has failed his final examination, and his father reacts with disdain and contempt when Moritz tells him that he will not progress in school. Rather than attempting to understand his son's pain, Moritz's father is only concerned with how the others in town will react when they see "the man with the son who failed." Moritz writes to Melchior’s mother, his only adult friend, asking for money to help him flee to America; she tenderly but firmly denies his request and promises to write his parents to discourage them from being too hard on him (And Then There Were None). Devastated by her refusal, and feeling he has few choices left, Moritz contemplates suicide.

In a stuffy hayloft during a storm, Melchior expresses his frustration about being caught between childhood and adulthood (The Mirror-Blue Night). Wendla finds him once again, telling him she wants to return his journal, and each apologizes for what happened in the forest. Melchior, disappointed in himself from the night before, urges her to leave. Wendla ignores this, instead suggesting they run in the rain until they "get soaked to the skin". Before long, they begin to kiss. Both of them nervous, they continue to entangle themselves and then hesitate – sensing that what they are doing is something very powerful. Wendla is not entirely sure of what they are about to do but is certain that it is unlike anything that she has known before. They continue and then have sex in the hayloft (I Believe). All at once, the song comes to a crescendo, Melchior penetrates her, Wendla cries out and darkness falls.

Wendla and Melchior are finishing their moment of confused intimacy in the hayloft; they reflect on and discuss what has just happened (The Guilty Ones)

Moritz, having been thrown out of his home, wanders the town at dusk, carrying a pistol when he comes across Ilse, a childhood friend of his. Ilse, who it is implied has feelings for Moritz, tells him she has found refuge at an artists' colony, and they reminisce in some childhood memories and "remarkable times". She invites him to come home with her and join her in sharing some more childhood memories, and maybe something more. Moritz refuses and Ilse does everything she can to change his mind (Don't Do Sadness/Blue Wind). After affirming to Ilse that he truly wished he could go with her, Moritz refuses and Ilse leaves – distraught and upset. Realizing that Ilse was his last chance to escape the fate he's set out for himself, Moritz quickly changes his mind and calls after her, but it is too late – she is gone. Alone and believing that he has nowhere to turn, Moritz shoots himself.

At Moritz's funeral, each of the children drops a flower into his grave as Melchior laments the passing of his friend while touching on the factors that led to his death, including the way his parents treated him (Left Behind).

Back at school, the schoolmaster and teacher feel the need to call attention away from Moritz, whose death was a direct result of their actions. They search through Moritz's belongings and find the essay on sex which Melchior wrote for him. They seize the opportunity to lay the blame of Moritz's death on Melchior, and although Melchior knows that he is not to blame, he knows there is nothing he can do to fight them and is expelled as a result (Totally Fucked).

Elsewhere that night, Hänschen meets up with his shy and delicate classmate Ernst. Ernst tells Hänschen about his plans to become a pastor after school, and Hänschen shares his pragmatic outlook on life. He is amazed with how Ernst has remained so innocent despite the horrible things happening around them. They kiss and Ernst reveals that he loves Hänschen. (The Word of Your Body Reprise).

Wendla has become ill, and her mother takes her to visit a doctor. He gives her some medication and assures them both that Wendla is suffering from anemia and will be fine, but takes Wendla's mother aside and tells her that Wendla is pregnant. When her mother confronts her with this information, Wendla is completely shocked, not understanding how it could have happened. She realizes that her mother lied to her about how babies are made. Although she berates her mother for leaving her ignorant, her mother rejects the guilt and insists Wendla tell her who the child's father is. Wendla reluctantly surrenders a passionate note Melchior sent her after they consummated their relationship. She reflects somberly on her current condition and the circumstances that precipitated it, but resolves with optimism about her future child (Whispering).

Meanwhile, Melchior's parents argue about their son's fate; his mother does not believe that the essay he wrote for Moritz is sufficient reason to send him away to reform school. When Melchior's father (Callum) tells his wife about Wendla's pregnancy, she finally agrees that they must send Melchior away, which they do without telling him that Wendla is pregnant.

During this time, Melchior and Wendla keep contact through letters, delivered by Ilse. At the reform school, Melchior gets into a fight with some boys who grab a letter he has just received from Wendla and use it in a masturbation game. As one of the boys reads from the letter, Melchior finally learns about Wendla and their child, and he escapes from the institution to find her. Meanwhile, a very terrified and clueless Wendla is taken to a back-alley abortionist by her mother.

When Melchior reaches town after a few days, he sends a message to Ilse, asking her to have Wendla meet him at the cemetery at midnight. Ilse, however, can take no action, as Melchior "hasn't heard" about Wendla. She shows Anna, Martha, and Thea the letter. They are equally horrified, and decide not to tell Melchior what has happened. At the cemetery, Melchior stumbles across Moritz's grave and swears to himself that he and Wendla will raise their child in a compassionate and open environment. When Wendla is late to the meeting, Melchior begins to feel a little uneasy. Looking around, Melchior sees a fresh grave he had not noticed before. He reads the name on the stone–Wendla's–and realizes that Wendla has died after a botched abortion. Overwhelmed by shock and grief, he takes out a razor with intent to kill himself. Moritz's and Wendla's spirits rise from their graves to offer him strength. They persuade him to journey on, and he resolves to live and to carry their memories with him forever (Those You've Known).

Led by Ilse, everyone assembles onstage now (in some stagings, wearing modern clothes) to sing about how although the adults may still call the shots with their uptight and conservative views, they will not last forever, and the seeds are already being planted for a new, liberal minded, progressive generation (The Song of Purple Summer).

Favourite Songs: Mama Who Bore Me, The Bitch Of Living, Touch Me, The Dark I Know Well, I Believe, Totally Fucked and The Song Of Purple Summer

Favourite Character: Melchior

He just tries to do right by everybody and it always backfires. I feel so sorry for him.

#s​teven sater #duncan sheik #ayearofmusicals #a year of musicals #music criticism #musical theatre #musical #musicals #spring awakening

[emmalt24]

A Significant Relationship

When I was 23/24 I went through a real I have no idea what the hell I’m doing with my life phase. I was working as a nanny and going through an incessant clubbing and running phase. Even though I was worried about the judgement from my parents and more straight edged high school peers it was one of the greatest carefree times in my life. I would be clubbing until 4am at a private members club in Mayfair then ferrying my insanely talented children I nannied around to national swim practice, tennis, hockey, you name it they did it. 

Maddox Mayfair - A favourite old haunt! Left to right; me, Jazz & Suraya (aka Susu / Island Cutie) 

Anyway, despite the fun of this laissez faire blip in my life. I was my harshest critic and I would constantly berate myself for not having chosen a graduate scheme in the field I had trained in. I had done well at school, in my degrees and had completed numerous internships and even worked alongside my masters degree. I don’t know what it was, office life just wasn’t for me. I felt I’d put all my eggs into one basket. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. I’d always loved working with children and heavily considered becoming a teacher. So alongside my nannying job I also became a Teaching Assistant (just for one term, thank god) to make sure it was the path I wanted to follow. Alas, I decided to follow through and become a fully fledged teacher. 

My first day as a Teaching Assistant. I was happy I was taking a step in the right direction.

Let's just backtrack a little. I was lost in what I was doing. In that time I didn’t have a boyfriend per say but the occasional post clubbing hook up / casual dating but nothing which led to much. I remember my last full day of nannying before shortening my hours to work at the school as a teaching assistant, I went on a date with my (little did I know at the time) long term boyfriend for the next (nearly) four years. I may have told a little white lie on the date in telling him that I had been at my school for longer than I had just so he would think my life was a little more ‘on track’ than it was at the time! 

We met at a pub for a drink and the rest was history. In the years that ensued we went on numerous trips, moved in together, our families became close and we became a very established couple. From the moment we met, I felt that he filled in my blips, patchy career path and that we complemented each other. His education and career trajectory was a lot smoother than mine. He got four As at A Level, went to a top University and went on to build out startups and secure shares in them as he went along. I felt stability knowing that he was so professionally secure and in the time we were together I focused on getting my career on track. He supported me with applications, essays and he even convinced me not to quit Teacher Training when I felt I couldn’t go on. Without him I’m not sure I’d be where I am today. I was the sporty, lateral thinker and he was the intellectual, logical pragmatist. We balanced each other out (or so I thought). His Whats App messages were like poetry, carefully crafted with skilful intellect. I miss them a little . . . 

Obviously no one can ‘complete’ you. As I alluded to in my previous blog post, there is a reason behind the fact I often felt intellectually inferior to my ex and others. ALSO the cleverest girl in my class at school was also called Emma which didn’t help my situation, she was like Einstein. Throughout the relationship I never felt clever enough for him but I loved how he admired and appreciated the work I did and the level of patience he knew it required that was not in his repertoire. 

A predominately happy 4 year relationship (minus the fights…)

His friends wedding on a private island in the Philippines 

Dinner with friends 

The Break Up 

There obviously are reasons why every couple break up and I do not think it fair to post the nitty-gritty publicly online (nor can I really be bothered to write it all out). 

The crux of it was - we argued quite a lot and often blew very small things out of proportion. The slightest change of mood could turn into days of passive aggression and I often felt as though I were treading on eggshells to avoid the inevitable. He was hyper vigilant to any mood change on my behalf so I would always feel like I had to be a perfect girlfriend who was happy all the time even when he had upset me. I tried really hard but sometimes it’s impossible not to let your emotions show, especially when you live together, have had a stressful day or are not feeling your best. 

The days leading up to the break up 

We had been at one of my best friend's wedding together in India for nearly a week. I had to return for work but he had just left his job so he stayed on for about 10 days travelling.

The first night of my friends incredible Indian wedding in Mumbai.

I was back at our flat and was busy with work. He would send me daily updates and pictures of what he’d been up to. Some days he wouldn’t message me at all but when he did reach out he assured me that it was because of the lack of WiFi connection on the Karalan waves - fair enough. At the time I did not see our relationship in jeopardy. He returned on a Tuesday evening. I remember I had felt really unwell at work that day which was unlike me. I was susceptible to coughs and colds working around children but they would never stop me from going to school and generally getting on with my normal, everyday life. This evening in particular I felt feverish and just generally really bad. He had made dinner for me and was eager to tell me about his trip. I tried to act as interested as I could but I genuinely felt so awful, I think towards the end of the meal I admitted to him, ‘I think I’m coming down with something’. He had never been overly sympathetic with me when I had been ill in the past but he’d never had to be because I’d always bounced back in a day or two. I wasn’t so sure if I’d be able to this time… 

In the days that followed I felt worse and worse and I felt like the biggest nuisance to him despite not being able to help being unwell. I was off work a little and he used this as an opportunity to not be in the flat when I was there too. I remember on one of the days that week work sent me home at lunch because I felt so awful. I got home and had a hot bath, which only spiked my raging temperature higher and then bundled into layers of clothes and hurled myself beneath layers of blankets. I was incessantly shaking, coughing, genuinely felt like death. I was messaging him asking him to buy some things to make me feel better but he didn’t reply all evening. When he finally did return home he eventually made his way into the bedroom, gave some half hearted, ‘my phone had died and I didn’t see your messages’ excuse and offered me some vitamins?! I stupidly somehow went to work the next day, although I really shouldn’t have because I still felt terrible. Then the next night I was feeling extra awful again. I woke up in the morning and again was getting ready for work when I felt incredibly nauseous and sick. I decided to stay at home so I lay on the sofa while he was still asleep, booked a doctor's appointment and got my best friend's broth recipe to hopefully make me feel a little more human. He was suspicious as to why I wasn’t at school, questioned my prognosis and said that I was taking out feeling unwell on him. He left for the gym he was doing a trial at and then proceeded to spend the rest of the day at his parents house and didn’t message to see how I was doing until late in the evening. I went to the doctor, got some advice as to how to deal with my raging temperature, made my broth but still felt awful. I just remember trying to have a ‘room temperature’ shower amid shivers and just willing to feel normal again. 

That night he returned and the minute he walked in the door he could see from the look on my face that we needed to talk. I explained how hurt I was that he hadn’t supported me or checked in more over the past few days of not feeling well. He was half heartedly sympathetic and we ended up talking for the best part of three hours although the time escapes me, it was all a bit of a blur. All I remember was a long speel towards the end of the talk on our relationship - one was on making it work and moving forward and the other was the opposite. He built up both of the options like skyscrapers, one would stand tall rooted to its foundations and the other would come crashing down. He went for the second option and in that moment my entire world came crushing down. I just remember starring at him in astonishment, ‘this is over?’. I said in deep blindsided shock. ‘Yes’. He confirmed. I just couldn’t believe it, we were over, this was it, the end of us. 

The Catalyst 

That night I tossed and I turned, I just couldn’t sleep, I was in deep shock and utterly heartbroken. He wasn’t sleeping overly well either and I remember waking at the same time and asking him if last night really happened. It was a very tumultuous night but despite being unwell and exhausted I proceeded to having a very productive day despite not being able to make it through most hours without bursting into tears. He had a boozy lads Christmas Day planned with his football friends which he of course felt obliged to attend so I used the day to run errands and stay productive. He gave me that day (Saturday) to get my head together and then on Sunday he said he would help me pack up my things to move back home. I had some eBay items to sell so I first of all cycled to the post office to sort them out then I went on to a garden centre a few miles on to buy him a plant (we were obsessed with them) as a little parting gift. My head was all over the place, I probably would have bought him a car if he’d have asked for one! I returned to the flat briefly to shower then I went to a friends house up the road to walk their dog and hang out there after. They were going to be out for the day so they said I could stay there. I’d messaged them in the morning explaining what had happened so they were happy for me to stay there and keep their dog company. I just didn’t want to be alone in what I knew wasn’t our flat anymore. It was too heartbreaking, we had chosen the majority of the furniture together and had built a life there. Now it felt as though the rug had been completed ripped from beneath my feet. I even popped down the road to get my class an end of term gift, did a little workout at the house before collapsing into a heap of tears to which the labrador I was with tried to console me. Eventually (at around 9pm) I watched the film Marriage Story at the house, (which of course was totally the wrong film to watch at the time) and made myself a sympathy drink.

At this point I had barely eaten anything all day, it had slipped my mind a little. I was too focused on keeping busy. In the morning before my ex departed he made me a bagel, baked beans and a fried egg. This would be a typical weekend breakfast for us which I would usually lap up but I remember taking one bite of the bagel and not being able to go on. I had no appetite and food was last on my agenda. I had a few sips of coffee and got on with my day.

The next day was moving home day which physically hurt. Again I barely ate anything, I was too focused on packing everything up and dreading having to move back in with my parents. Not that my parents arn’t lovely, it just felt like the biggest step back. I tried to leave with as much grace as I came with, I was not angry and I did not shout, I was just so so sad. I remember loading up the dishwasher as he loaded up my car but then when I sat on the sofa and immediately noticed the dust on the table I thought to myself nah love you can do that! I think the way I dealt with the break up surprised him. He saw a side of me I didn’t even know I had. Nothing can prepare you for something like that, when you are shocked to your core. You don’t know how you’re going to react, you just ‘cope’. 

My parents helped get the bundles of clothes and other things out of my car into my room. There was a lot of stuff and I still had quite a few things left at the flat. I just remember my not very big room floor being covered with bags and I felt like I didn’t even know where to begin. I felt physically awful still and was just so shocked and sad. I somehow managed to sort it all and put some clothes out for work the next day, the last week of work before the Christmas Holidays. 

The week that followed at work was a bit of a blur. I’m not really sure how I made it in each day and put on a brave face. I remember on the Monday morning I’d just gotten into work and the Head and the Deputy Head were putting milk in the fridge in the corridor and as I walked past them I wanted to explain what had happened but I knew I’d burst into tears so I refrained and instead went over to my classroom. My teacher friend came straight over to my classroom, coffee in hand and hugged me tight (I burst into tears then surprise surprise!). She was (and still is) one of my biggest supports. I had the sweetest class at the time and each day that week after lunch during the register they would say, ‘Miss Thompson I hope you have the best Christmas ever’, I had the biggest lump in my throat when they said that to me! That week I didn’t eat lunch in the staffroom, I didn’t eat at all. Maybe a baby tomato or a banana but nothing substantial. Black coffee and chewing gum were my main sources of fuel that week. Little did I know that week would lead to a year of restrictive eating and purging. The breakup was the catalyst that lead me down a slippery path of self destruction as a subconscious way of numbing the pain of the breakup. 

#breakup

[nightspadesz]

My LONG Bio Post

Hello, humans.

This is Night Spades Z speaking here...

I would like to introduce myself here.... Where should I begin... I don't even know.

[WARNING THIS POST WILL BE LONG. . . SHORTER VERSION WILL BE CREATED FOR THOSE WHO DOESNT WANT TO READ THIS ESSAY-LIKE BIO POST]

But here goes nothing...

My author pen name is Night Spades Z. Kitsune Night is the online name I go by.

I am currently an almost graduated A.S.A./A.S.S. degrees student. Born in the country of Republic of China (R.O.C.). Raised in the care of several foster families along with my biological brother. My childhood was fun. A bit sad. But mostly it was something I wish I had more memories of. That was only the first 10+ years of my life. After being adopted by a loving family of America, they gave my brother and I a chance to a full complete family, wonderful educations, older and younger siblings too. Moreover, they gave me choices, love, fun, shelter, a place to be. They might not know what they really did that had a place in my life and heart, but I want to thank them for the 6+ years of ups and downs (mostly ups). Being in the family gave me a chance to better life.

Age of 11+, I joined the EBOB club. Wasn't that great of a reader back then. But I learned many words, and develops a better understanding of the American Language. I found my first love for reading books then. The librarian was extremely wonderful. Perhaps she saw something in me that is slowly blooming. Whatever it is, she had an impact on my life too. (If you are reading this and know who I am, know that I thank you too for everything.) The Among the Hidden series really had an impression on me. Its a must read to all you viewers of this blog. The Harry Potter series also caught my attention back then. Wasn't able to actually read it, but still, a must read series!!!

Age 12, MBOB, finally able to show my love for reading and communicating. Competition of understanding of lists of books. Being with my team was a moment I would never forget. (Every chance I get, it is the library I always visit. I must say, the teachers must thought I was insane to read books like I am consuming food. 😂😂😂)

||Sit tight, half way through...||

13+ As soon as my father said I should start writing, my head was filled with random ideas. Ideas that some can be used, some can be exchanged for better words and expression. Many of those were left behind. But some I still am working on these days. I made a group of long lasting friends (part of them aren't as lucky to stay friends with me... Still disappointed I even chose those humans as friends though. Thought I could change them for a better person... Failure of mine.) The encouragements I got from my friends, SD. And CS. They kept me from giving up on writing. ✏✏✏

14+ A dear friend, teammate, classmate left during my last year in middle school. 😭😭😭. But during that time, at the gathering, I met my cousin and her mom for the first time. she gave me her phone number. I never got the chance to talk to her again. (Or so I thought.) Thanks again to my father for finding my "cousin" . her mother came from ROC, too. My cousin has been another part of my life. Her and the several church missionary sisters. I cherish every moments with them. I got the chance to get to know my cousin and her love for art and words (like me) also music too. Ill add a link to one of her online profiles in a later post. Please support her. She is a accomplished artist and writer. You will love her works. (Maybe even more than mine. 😉)

15+ New school, more friends. Two new friends who decided to start writing too. My fellow Trio best friends. My days weren't as free as I wanted, but other than reading, homework, school, or doing other projects, I try to at least jog ideas down and collect them till they can be made into a chapter or more.

16+ Added on of my new job. I still had some time for writing. . . reading... Not as much. 😭. BUT I got the best co-workers and managers ever. Another family. ❤❤❤

17+ Virtual classes made things a bit complicating. New software's and platforms. More staring at a screen. Even though I get distracted by notifications on "please update" from a couple followers who loved my fanfiction writings. 😅.

You can say I have a weird life. But it is what it is. I am okay with it.

Thanks for reading. Now if you want to know more.... Go to the Short Bio Post

#Essay bio #second post #my life

[acidmatze]

In which Dabi increasingly thinks that he is stuck in a third rate emo music video

I have no idea why I wrote this. But it wanted to be written. This is Part 1 of the obligatory College AU and everyone is a dork. 

It’s not proof read or anything.. Im tired...

It was a kinda gloomy afternoon in late October when it all started. It was raining and the dorm was crowded with students that normally were walking around town but with weather that bad no one really wanted to go out.

Dabi was sitting on the windowsill in the common room and stared outside.

Spinner was in some kind of fight with two other students about some hockey game.

Twice tried to watch some motorcycle race on TV.

He then suddenly jumped and walked over to Dabi with just a few really big steps.

“Dabi, I have an idea!”

Dabi lazily turned around to his friend.

“Shoot.”

“So far we have befriended three people. But I think we need a lot more friends. There are a lot of people here on campus that don't seem to have many friends and no one should walk alone around here. You know, we all need someone to talk to and stuff. You know??”

Dabi blinked a few times.

For some reason since summer, Twice seemed to be obsessed with walking around and trying to talk to people he never talked to before. Dabi was just dragged along. At first Twice started hanging out with Spinner. Then he almost stalked some weird guy called Chisaki. And then his friends. Dabi always felt the weird need to apologise for Twice's behaviour but somehow in the end it all worked out and their circle of friends grew.

Twice blabbered on

“There's this girl I have a few classes with and she's like.. two years younger than us or so I have no idea how she is in college already but she is. I have never seen her with people around and I think we should change that.”

“Uh.... okay? How do you wanna do that?”

“I'm just gonna talk to her on Monday. What do you think?”

“Dunno? Go ahead I guess...?”

Dabi had a vague idea which girl Twice meant.

She was blonde and short and could be cute but there was an eerie air surrounding her. But since Twice's group of friends was a ragtag bunch of misfits she would be fit in just fine. Twice himself was a giant goofball sometimes. In one moment it seemed like he was just a kid trapped in the body of a tall guy in his early 20s. In another moment he would shout the most obscene things anyone has ever heard. Be it in the hallway, in the middle of a lecture, while eating lunch and sometimes in the middle of the night. Dabi knew because even though his room was further down the hallway he could still hear his friend's yelling. It woke him up semi-regularly.

And on some days Twice would just break down sobbing and fled to the bathroom and wouldn't come back for a few hours.

He had no idea about what happened afterwards.

Dabi himself also was far from being the average college student. First of all the appearance.

Then his type of humour.   He often insulted people without meaning to because for him it was just friendly banter. And his careless attitude pissed people off. For reasons Dabi cannot explain. What's so bad about not blowing up at every single thing?

“I haven't felt an emotion since 1997” he often said.

“Look how many fucks I give. They are falling from the sky” he also often said.

Chisaki, the first guy they “recruited” was terribly afraid of bacteria and getting ill. They never saw him without wearing gloves and a face mask.

No hand shaking or friendly hugs allowed, thank you.

Please just wave in my general direction.

He was often seen furiously wiping seats, benches, tables, kitchen counters and other places you can sit on.

Sometimes Dabi wondered if it was a good idea for him to study medicine.

On the other hand, if he would become a surgeon no one would need to worry about keeping the operating room sterile.

“We only have guy friends. We also need some girl friends. Not girlfriends... well, maybe those too but I mean like.. girls. Who are our friends.”

“I get what you mean, Twice and I agree. This group is a sausage fest.”

Two days later when Dabi walked to his next lecture he saw Twice down at the campus plaza wildly gesticulating and talking to that girl he wanted to talk to.

She didn't seem to mind.

As far as Dabi could see, whatever Twice was talking about must be funny since she was laughing.

Good. Another weirdo joined the group. Let's see what this eerie feeling is about.

Dabi almost bumped into another student he didn't even had noticed.

“Whoa there. Didn't see you there buddy. Sorry.”

The other student shot a quick glance at Dabi and walked a bit faster. Well, okay...? Maybe he's late for class. Though in his oversized black clothes he almost looked like a high school student.

Weird kid.

This time the common room was almost empty, even though it was raining again.

Why is it always raining the last few weeks?

Dabi stared out of the window again.

“Is this interesting?” Chisaki asked.

“I'm pretending to be an emo girl in a music video. I'm currently missing my boyfriend who broke up with me to fuck my best friend.”  

“Okay?”

“It is complicated, you know? He just bought me an expensive ring and told me we will be together forever but then at a party my bff flirted with him and he didn't do anything and now I'm so angry I think I will set his apartment in flames.”

“Dabi? Are you... okay?”

Dabi turned around to Chisaki and pretended to be crying.

“No! I am depressed! I was so in love with him, Rawr!”

Chisaki stared at Dabi for ten seconds.

“Please. Don't say this ever again.”

“Rawr means I Love You in Dinosaur!”

Before Chisaki could smack the lanky bean in the face Twice stormed into the room.

“Guys! Guys, we have a new friend! Say hello to Toga!”

The short girl from earlier today stood in the doorway grinning way too wide for her face.

“Hiiiii~ I'm Toga! I'm so happy to meet you all! Very happy indeed.”

What is up with those teeth? Dabi had never seen canines that sharp. He had heard that some people let their teeth sharpen. But until now he thought someone was playing a very elaborate prank on him. But seems those people seriously exist.

A wave of eeriness hit him.

There's something about this girl that's definitely not normal. But who in this weird clique is normal anyway?

“So what do you guys do all day? You all look totally different, do you even have common hobbies? Like Twicey here looks like a MMA fighter and you look like a law student and you look like you beat up kids and then go home and write sad poems about it.”

Dabi's eye twitched slightly.

“Also you look stoned!”

It twitched even more.

“Law student.....” Chisaki muttered, “I have never been more insulted in my life.”

“We're just hanging out. And sometimes we go play pool and stuff” Twice said.

“Oh that's cool. I collect knives. Do you want to see some?”

Toga was beaming.

Okay, so that's what's wrong with her. That explains so much to be honest.

“I don't think anyone would be interested in....”

Dabi cut Chisaki off.

“Sure we want.”

And a few minutes later they were standing around in Toga's room. Which looked like a normal girl's room. Except for the wall of knives where other girls maybe had posters hanging.

But otherwise, very normal, very pink.

Toga pointed at one of the knives.

“This is the first one I got. I found it one day on a playground. I took it home and cleaned it and sharpened it.” She pointed at another that had sharp wedges.

“This is really great when you want someone to bleed out. When you stab someone with it and they try to rip it out the teeth just get stuck and do more damage. I bought it at a hunting store a few years ago.”

Whoa. Chisaki had gone completely pale. Twice seemed nervous too. Did they have to worry that this girl would break into their rooms at night to do Horrible Things to them?

“I see your worried faces and I want to reassure you that I only collect them.”

At least she's sane.

“I also collect other things! Like articles from the newspapers.” Toga shuffled over to a drawer that was completely plastered with hearts and peace signs and whatnot.

She pulled out a folder and went through the pages a bit.

“Here. This one, for example is about a case of unexplained murders in the 80s. I have collected every little bit of information I could find about it. Which is very hard by the way. Do you know how weird it feels to google all that stuff? And this one is about that guy who abducted and killed five women like a year ago.”

Nope, completely insane.

But in a weirdly nerdy way.

“And now I am collecting stuff about a string of weird cases of mutilated animals found on roadsides around Yokohama. No one really investigates that! Can you believe it? Just because it's not people. I think that's not fair. Animals have lives too.”

She closed the folder and huffed.

Dabi crossed his arms.

“So you're like... playing detective? Finding out more about it?”

Toga's face lit up.

“Wow, I never thought about that. I could totally find out the truth. I know everything!”

Chisaki leaned over to Dabi and whispered: “Hey, can we go now? I still have to write an essay and also this is creeping me out.”

“Dunno man. I think that's definitely a weird hobby but she seems harmless.”, Dabi whispered back.

“Yeah maybe, but I'm out, cheers.”

Chisaki marched out of the room without even saying goodbye.

Twice and Dabi remained.

“Oh nooooo I scared him away.”

“He's just horrible when it comes to blood” Twice tried to explain.

“Oh yeah you should have seen his face, when I was hit by a baseball once and it almost knocked out a tooth. I thought he would faint any second.”

Toga grinned.

“He really acts like a law student.”

“He studies medicine.” Twice said.

Toga just stared at the guy.

“You're joking, right?”

Twice shook his head.

And then Toga had a hysterical laughing fit that lasted so long that Dabi briefly considered to call an ambulance.

It was already dark when Twice and Dabi went back to their rooms. The fact that it was already dark didn't mean that it was late though. The sun was already setting at 6pm.    

“She's weird as fuck but I'd be lying if I would say what she said wasn't interesting. I don't know why I would need to know about serial killers but somehow I do now.”

Dabi was rambling.

“So you like her? You think she fits in with us?”

“Yeah kinda. Maybe. But I don't mind her hanging out with us.”

Twice pumped his fist in the air.

“Yeah! A new friend! Oh can you wait here for a minute? I wanna head over to the kiosk and get some snacks.”

“Sure. Knock yourself out.”

Dabi leaned back at the wall and Twice hurried out of the main door.

Empty corridors. Silence.

Pretending to be a a girl in some music video again, Dabi imagined walking down the hallways crying about some lost love and unfair parents. For some reason the sprinklers were on. The eyeliner is running dramatically over the wet cheeks. Emo girl is looking at her wrist where she wrote the name of her ex with a sharpie. It's also running from the water from the sprinklers. Some guitar solo is playing in the background. Emo girl gets angry and punches the wall.

She swears revenge. Maybe burning something down would help. Maybe destroying things....

“Hey, what are you doing there?”

Dabi looked up. Oh, he really had wandered through the hallway. But without the sprinklers and the sharpie and the cheating boyfriend.

In front of him stood the guy from before. Black oversized hoodie, black jeans, black Converse. God, is that a Senses Fail patch?

How emo, Dabi thought, ignoring the fact that he also has a Senses Fail patch on his backpack.

No one needs to know.

The guy still stares at him.

Oh Jesus, please someone get him lip balm. And some moisturiser. Because this dude looks dead.

“I was just dramatically walking around, thinking about my cheating boyfriend.”

“What?”

“Ah nothing. It was a joke. Sorry again for bumping into you earlier.”

“Ah. Its fine.” The guy shoved his hands back in his pockets and walked back in the direction he came from.

That's not where the dorms are. Weird.

“Hey Dabi, I'm back”

Dabi was lightly punched in the shoulder.

“Nice. Dude, have you seen that weird dude in the wannabe emo clothes just now?”

Twice seemed confused.

“Emo dude..? No. I haven't seen anyone.”

Dabi scratched his head.

He also never had seen that guy before. Is he a ghost or something?

Over the next few days Dabi ran into that guy over and over again. But every time he asked someone about him, no one had an idea who he was talking about. He ran into him in the bathroom during lunch break. He ran into him in the library. He ran into him while running cross campus to catch a bus. Had this dude always been there and Dabi just didn't notice?

“You always look like you're searching for something. Are you okay?” Toga asked. They were walking down a popular shopping street in town. Toga wanted to meet with a friend of hers and asked everyone if they want to come with her but only Dabi agreed.

“I think I might have seen a ghost. Also, I'm not okay.”

Toga's eyes went wide. “A ghost?? A really spooky one? The one that haunts your dreams by night? Where have you seen it?”

“Everywhere, basically. And he even shows up during the day. I need proof that this guy really exists.”

“Wooooooooow..... A real mystery. Maybe my friend can help you. She's great with mysteries.”

They arrived at a small café.

Toga was running towards some guy in brown cargo pants who was waving at her. But didn't Toga say “she”? Oh. Okay.

Then Toga ran back to Dabi grabbed his arm and pulled him with her.

“This is my best friend, Magne. She's basically like my sister. If you need help with mysteries, then talk to her.”

Dabi awkwardly shook her hand. Wow that's a strong handshake. “I took the liberty of already ordering some cake for me. I just couldn't wait. So, what is this mystery you are talking about?” They sat down at one of the small tables. It was weirdly warm for October this week so somehow everyone was still outside.

“Basically I am chasing a guy only I can see, it seems. I never have seen him before but suddenly he is everywhere. But when I ask someone about him no one knows what I'm talking about.” Dabi explained.

“Wow that really is something. By the way, Toga you should order the Strawberry Shortcake it's the best I have ever eaten. Okay, so if you need proof that this mysterious guy really exists you maybe should take a picture of him?”

“Isn't that creepy as fuck?”

“Well, for me it would be way creepier if I would see a guy no one else can see. If you can take a picture of him you know he's real at least.”

That girl has a point there.

Sadly, after this the guy vanished. Over the course of the next weeks Dabi grew more and more frustrated.

He felt like he was stuck in some third rate emo music video.

Maybe he should let his hair grow out a bit and get blue streaks. “Dabi, you look like you're constipated. Do you need help?” Chisaki offered one day.

“I'm not okay” Dabi mumbled.

“Yeah I can see that. Seriously, if you have problems with your digestive system, I know some drops that really...”

“I can shit just fine, Chisaki.” “Oh. Then.. care to explain what's wrong?”

Dabi sprawled himself out on his bed.

Chisaki was standing in the middle of the room. He forgot his wipes and spray and wasn't brave enough to take a seat on Dabi's really old office chair.

Dabi groaned.

“This guy...... This weird guy I told you about... The one I am always running into. I'm not running into him anymore.”

Chisaki furrowed his brows.

“And that's a problem why...?”

Dabi sat up and threw his arms in the air.

“It makes me feel like a fucking madman! I know this guy exists. I have even talked to him like once. Almost. He needs some damn lip balm and looks like dead itself. And now that I was ready to take a pic of him and prove his existence once and for all he vanishes!”

“You want to take a pic of him?”

Dabi groaned again.

“I know that sounds like a stalker. But I just wanna prove that he exists. It seems like no one but me has ever seen him.”

“Dude... you do you. But who knows. Maybe he was an intern or stuff. I wouldn't waste a single thought about the whole thing.”

So Dabi tried to not waste a single thought about the whole thing.

He tried so hard and got so far. But in the end, it doesn't even matter. Because two days later he caught himself looking for that guy again.

It was already close to Christmas. And the dude remained gone.

Dabi was in the library looking for some books to read. Maybe that would distract him. He just wanted to check out when he saw him. Emo dude. With the oversized hoodie. Coming in through the front door. Dabi almost dropped his books. He imagined he was a girl in an emo music video who sees her crush. He walks past her and their eyes meet. Maybe he was smiling, maybe he was not. Everything is in slow motion. The people around them vanish. It's only those two. When he passed her everything is back to normal. Guitar solo.

Dabi wanted to slam his fucking books on the floor.

Then he walks into emo dude while crossing a bridge. Okay, emo music video. It's raining. Girl was just dumped by some stupid jackass. She is desperate and doesn't know what to do. Maybe she should jump but the bridge isn't really high. She's nervous. After contemplating for a while she sees Him. Some emo dude walking towards her, asking her if everything is alright. It's still raining but also now the sun is shining. Everything is well now even though there is still sadness in her heart. Forever. Guitar solo.

Dabi seriously contemplates to jump into the river below.

The third time he runs into him is at a bus stop. Some old lady is also there but that's it.

“Hold still!” Dabi says harshly and the guy looks at him, startled.

Dabi takes out his cellphone and takes a pic of the dude.

“What...... why...?”

“I explain later. Don't worry, I will delete the pic soon. I just have to prove something to someone.”

Emo dude is chewing on his lower lip. His leg seems shaky. Dabi sighs.

“Look. I know that was creepy as fuck but you won't believe the hell I went through to get this pic. As soon as I prove that you exists I will delete it.” “That I exist..?”

“Yeah.”

Fuck that sounds stupid. Oh god so stupid and creepy and.... hell, Dabi has to explain this seriously now.

He groans.

“Okay, there is no way to explain this without sounding weird. Remember back in October when I almost ran you over?” Emo dude nods. Dabi can see strands of blueish grey hair. Is that dye?

“Good. I thought to that day I had seen everyone on campus. But I never had seen you. So I asked my friend about you and he said he doesn't know about you. And he literally is friends with everyone. And then I kept running into you. But every time I wanted my friend to look at you you vanished. Like a fucking ghost or something. It was... kinda pissing me off somehow. And we kept running into each other but I was either alone or you did that magical vanishing thing.”

Emo kid stared at Dabi in silence.

“I kinda got all riled up about this. And then I didn't see you again and I seriously thought I was going crazy or had seen a ghost or something. A friend had told me to take a picture to prove it. But then I couldn't because I didn't see you. But now I did. And now I can prove it. And now I can have peace of mind.”

The dude still stared at Dabi.

Ah fuck.

Oh, wait.

Dabi pulled out the phone again.

“I could also delete the pic right now. And take you to my friends instead. You know... In the flesh?”

“You want me to meet your friends..?”

Dabi nodded.

“You're always alone. Maybe you could need some friends.”

“Friends....” Emo dude looked at the ground. Spit stains everywhere, ewwww.

“Okay... Take me to your friends.”

“Ah I can't today. Maybe we could meet at that church at 4pm tomorrow?”

Emo dude shrugged.

“Okay....”

Dabi wanted to shake his hand, but emo dude didn't react. He awkwardly pulled his hand back and coughed.

“Okay then.... Until tomorrow. And I'm Dabi, by the way.”

“Tomura... I'm Tomura...”

Then Dabi's bus arrived. Time to visit his mom in the hospital.

He sat down at the window.

Okay. Emo music video. Girl just had a date but it didn't go as planned. Maybe she should have listened to her bff, she had a bad feeling about this all the time. It's raining. It's also raining in emo girl's heart. She had sadness for breakfast. She should have stayed home and spend the time with her bff instead. Now that she thinks about it, bff was always there for her. Every time emo girl needed a shoulder to cry on bff was there. The rain represents the tears she wants to cry but cannot because this is a public setting and that would be embarrassing. Emo girl thinks maybe she should have dated bff instead. There is thunder in the background as the bus drives into the darkness. Guitar solo.  

#my writing #Dabi #boku no hero academia #Shigaraki tomura #as an unknown emo dude #this is part 1 #i wuill write part 2 as soon as I am concious again #please give me attention

[kang-yoochanie]

How to survive high school (by a straight A and mentally ill high school graduate)

If this post isn't a way to show that through 4 years of high school I have SUCKED at titling things then I don't know what is.

Anyways, long-ass titles aside, this is a mini guide for kids about to go into grade 9, or any grade really, who want to prepare themselves or change themselves.

Cause boy do I know you change a lot through high school. Thank god. 

Don’t expect this to be formal, or funny (unless you have my sense of humour in which case I think it’s fucking hilarious but that’s besides the point), but hopefully it will be helpful. (tip 1; long intros like this are useless 90% of the times, this time being part of that 90%) 

1) Honestly you may as well just buy yourself two locks for your locker right away. Have one locking your locker, and the other on you or at home. My locks broke so many times, or I forgot what the combo was, I went through so many of those fucking things (except in grade 12, I just gave up and stopped using my locker even though that was against the rules at my school lmao)

2) Dressing nice can be fun and can be a way to motivate yourself to get up in the morning, but don’t stress about what others will think about how you’re dressed or how you look. By the end of the day everyone’s going to look like trash any ways, so don’t bother

3) Those guidance counsellors? Yea. Use ‘em. Even if they’re the worst people on the planet Earth, use them. They can help tell your teachers about your problems, or just give you a quiet place to sit for a bit. 

4) DON’T STRESS ABOUT THE FUTURE. Everyone’s gonna say “you’re in grade 9, you better start thinking about what you wanna be” and they’ll say that every goddamn year. But let me tell you. I knew from grade 7 I wanted to go to art school. I really wanted to be an artist. I applied to an art school this year, I got into that art school this year, and I declined the offer. In my last few months of high school I changed my mind. I decided that I didn’t know what the fuck I wanted to do, so I chose a program that’s sort of like English. TLDR; people change their fucking minds. So don’t stress about it

5) Now this may differ from country to country but Universities and colleges don’t look at your grade 9 or 10 marks. They don’t give a shit if you got a 20% on a test in grade 9 (which I did lmao). They will only look at 11 and 12, and really they only look at your grade 11 marks for early acceptances. If you have shitty grade 11 marks but good grade 12 marks then you’re fine.

6) Speaking of Universities, apply to every single one that you can. I applied to something like 10 different schools/programs. Some of them I didn’t even know if I wanted to go into them. Some of them were incredibly hard to get into and I was sure I wasn’t going to get in. But I applied to everything that caught my interest, so that I could have doors open. (and, as it turns out, the program I’m going into was one of those last minute ‘i’m not sure if i’ll like this or not but it sounds kinda cool so I’ll apply’)

7) Learn new study habits. The jump between grade 8 and 9 (and 10 and 11 so rip your 10ers) is insane. It’s normal for grades to drop a bit (or a lot @ my multiple failed tests in gr 9 lmao) but just take it with grace and learn which way of studying works best for you. (protip: figure out if you’re an auditory, visual, or kinesthetic learner. If you’re 2, or like me and all 3 of them, then your just have to figure out which subject you learn best with which learning style. for example, in math I learn best by doing (kinesthetic) but I suck at learning math by seeing (visual), but in history I learn best by discussing and hearing (auditory) and seeing (visual), but if you make me act out history, write notes or anything like that I won’t learn shit.) 

8) If you’re not a math or science person, don’t take them. Same goes for English, or any other subject. In my school system it was required for you to take english every year, so there was no getting out of that, but I could chose to stop taking math after grade 11, and science after grade 10. A lot of people associate being good at math and science as being “smart”, and I got a lot of comments that because I wasn’t taking them my studies were “easy”. And trust me, if you decide to not take them you’ll hear the same thing. But the thing is, you don’t need them. If you’re going into an English program, then why in the fucking world would you take Chemistry or math?? What’s the use of it? Once you know the basic skills in both subjects I say drop it, unless you need it or find it fun. 

9) Speaking of not doing things that you can’t, each country has different terms for the “upper” level classes and the “lower” level classes. So I’ll be referring to them as just that. If you find that an “upper” level class goes too fast for you or you just aren’t learning from it, go to the lower level. Not all your classes have to be “upper” and not all have to be “lower”, it all depends on you. You’re not smarter for being in an “upper” level class, and you’re not dumber for being in a “lower” level class. It’s all based on styles of learning. That’s it. and 95% of the time, the two levels learn the same things, just at different paces and with different techniques. 

10) If you have a mental illness, let your teachers know. Even if you don’t want to tell anyone. Even if you think it’s embarrassing. Trust me, telling your teachers will make your life 100% easier, a lot of them are very understanding. I had teachers who would let me leave the class with a friend at any point I felt like I was going to have an anxiety attack. And when I went through my major depressive episodes and missed weeks of school, my teachers let me do work at home that was strictly in class work or let me delay tests or just skip units all together, and I often got extra time for everything. But if I hadn’t told them about my situation, I would have ended up being stuck and probably would have failed all my classes.

11) If someone offers you help, take it. ALWAYS ACCEPT HELP. Even if you have a stupid sense of pride (like me) and think you can do everything by yourself (like me) YOU CAN’T (like...you guessed it, me). Trust me, when a parent, teacher, or even sibling helps you with homework, or essays or studying, it just makes things easier. 

12) Take notes. I know I said taking notes doesn’t always help me, or other people, but do it anyways. And not on your computer. Hand write your notes, even if you have the messiest fucking handwriting, just do it. It’s been proven that you’re more likely to retain information that you handwrite over notes on a computer or reading, no matter what your learning type is. 

13) Don’t do things last minute. Don’t do your project last minute, or your essay, or study for a test. Cramming doesn’t work. Basically what I’m saying is manage your time properly. If you have 2 weeks to study for a test, take those two weeks. Don’t take just 10 hours the night before. 

14) We’re almost done, don’t worry. Join extra curricular activities! HAVE A LIFE. Literally it’s one of my biggest regrets that I didn’t do more. If you aren’t a sports person, join clubs. If you aren’t a clubs person, join sports. If you’re neither, join student council or something. If you want access to everything (sports, clubs, etc) join Yearbook, it’s a great way to be involved while also hiding from everyone. But join things, make new friends. Have a life. It’ll make things SO much easier

15) Speaking of friends, don’t worry about them. You’re going to make new friends, lose friends and then repeat. You and everyone else change so much through high school it’s almost impossible to constantly have the exact same friend group. So don’t worry if you lose friends, you’re going to make new ones, I promise. 

14) My last and most important point; GRADES DON’T MATTER. It’s a number (or letter) that is marking you on how you felt the day you were taking a test or doing a presentation. That’s all it is. It’s not testing your intelligence, it’s not something to compete over. It’s just a stupid little number. I’m not saying ignore it completely, still try to work hard to learn things, but don’t do it for the sole reason of getting a good grade. One of the biggest things I learned in my last two years of high school was that when I was stressed about my grades and studied for the only purpose of getting a 90%, and literally gave up my life to study, I often didn’t do well. Those are the times when I failed tests, and also the times where I barely was able to get an 80% average. But in 11 and 12 I decided to take it easy. I studied a little bit every second or third night, but I tried not to stress about it. On nights before tests I would limit myself and never stay up past midnight. I forced myself to not care about grades even though every little anxious bone in me told me to care. And I went from having an 80.2% average in grade 10, to an 88% in grade 11 and a 92.5% in grade 12 (i feel inclined to say it was 95% but I had two hard ass teachers second semester so uh yeah that sucked). SO DON’T STRESS. LET GO OF THE IMPORTANCE OF GRADES. RAISE YOUR MIDDLE FINGER TO THAT A. Just do the best you can and then continue to push yourself to do better. Do it because you want to, not because you want a higher grade.

I hope this was somewhat helpful. High school is what you make of it, it can be fun, or horrible, so try to have fun with it. I have a lot of good memories from it. The best piece of advice I can really give is just be aware that your life isn’t only school, and it doesn’t end after high school. (Also always buy your teachers christmas gifts or end of year gifts, they will love you and you will instantly become a favourite)

#if u guys want tips on how to be a teacher's fav student hmu #so many of my teachers loved me bc im good at sucking up #school #studyblr #school tips #high school #high school tips

[helpfuldeathgod]

If you want to read what I sent my mom and possibly understand why I’m still fucking stressed (because I don’t know what’s gonna happen now tbh), it’s under this read more

1 I think you misunderstood why I bothered even mentioning a buzzword like dysphoria. My hair feeling wrong drives me completely insane and it's a wonder that I don't just cut it all off ever tbh But that's beside the point. I am 100% sure I'm depressed, have anxiety, and ADHD. Without a doubt, at all. Maybe I'm Highly Sensitive or whatever too, but the reason why I'm super skeptical about that is because it sounds like it's just avoiding the fact that there could be something explicitly wrong with me. I don't talk to you about a lot of things because the same thing keeps happening. I want to say something just to have it heard, and you offer advice whether I've asked for it or not. I appreciate a lot of the time that you are trying to help, to look out for what's best for me and that makes you a better mom than most, but you're not perfect. None of us are. I'm not resigning myself to my fate, accepting that "Oh I have ADHD, guess I can just NOT do homework then lol" it's more than that. Every single day is a fight for me. The reason why I have days left to finish my portfolio is in part because it's a creative writing class and I keep hitting a writer/s block, and the other part is that the teacher didn't actually teach us anything. The portfolio is just supposed to be a Nonfiction piece, a Fiction piece, 3 poems (unless it's a long one, then it can be condensed) and a Personal Narrative Essay. That's it, that's all we know. Everything we had to do as if we already know what these things even were. I got lucky cause I'm a writer like you, but half the class dropped out, no not everyone was. I have a surprising about of the fictional piece done, I just have to make it digital and edit it as I go. It's 8 pages and almost 5000 words right now and it's technically only looking at maybe 500 more pages til the end. That part is easy. Maybe I can just talk about my personal experiences with mental illnesses for the Narrative Essay again, more essay than narrative.2 The assignments are so open to interpretation, it’s driving me up the wall. In English, that’s where the actual issues with the whole fucking ADHD thing came in. I tried so fucking hard to keep up with the assignments that being able to turn in late work was a fucking blessing I still can’t quite grasp. I got a B in that class, an 83%, just because apparently I can shit out all sorts of bullshit when I’ve hit the Panic Response point. That’s apparently a big thing with ADHD, like I didn’t even know that.3 Depression is incredibly clear cut. Do you have a high number of days where it feels pointless to get out of bed? Do you sometimes have suicidal ideations that you wouldn’t carry out, but can’t talk about because only someone in your position would know you’re not actually in danger? Thoughts of worthlessness and the idea that things would be better off without you? You’re probably depressed. Oh but then there’s the fun mix with anxiety and ADHD!! People think ADHD is just not being able to pay attention, but it’s SO MUCH MORE than that. There is the lack of focus, but then there’s hyperfocusing. Remember when I’d be watching tv and someone would say my name and I wouldn’t hear it? I’d be doing something that didn’t seem important, but the moment I got dragged away from it I’d throw a fit? Breaking away from hyperfocus is physical pain. Oh how about when someone says something and I have to ask them to repeat it several times, only to get it on the third time? Audio Processing Disorder. When something would go a little wrong and my face would turn red and pale at the same time? Rejection Sensitivity Disphoria. Sitting there, doing what seems like nothing, as I’m struggling to force myself out of my chair so I can go make something for me to eat because I haven’t eaten since I had dinner the night before; Alternatively, I need to pee and I keep forgetting because the feeling goes away but now I’m dancing in my chair but now I’ve forgotten but now I’m-..... Executive Dysfunction. It’s all bullshit and I hate it. But that doesn’t mean I’m resigned to my fate with a broken brain.4 I have taken years to figure out so much about myself. The Depression, the Anxiety, the ADHD, the fact that I do in fact suffer from PTSD because of Beau and my Ex, the fact that I was sexually assaulted and emotionally abused by my Ex, that I’m not “just lazy” and some other Rude victim blaming accusation. I wouldn’t be like this if I had all the power over this situation. I am constantly fighting. Today, I’m tired. Sometimes you have bad days and there’s no point in beating yourself up about it, or letting anyone else. So I’m not going to let this shitty mood or our stupid arguments where neither of us feels like the other is listening ruin me for all the good I’ve managed to pull off for myself. So I’m a little mad at you, but like everything else, I’ll probably forget and move on. I’m not ready to talk about this in person yet. Honestly I almost chickened out of sending these at all...

[purplesurveys]

103

#survey #surveys

[not4eating]

Unfiltered and unedited. Rabid thought produced while thinking about an essay prompt.

should be something of interest to you and something that speaks to your values, ideas, and relationship with your larger social world.

Possible topics for writing project 3

What makes it debatable? What are various directions you could take this topic? Which one are you planning on choosing and why?

God damn, I don’t know. What are the things that are important to me? Fucking fuck this shit. I can’t think about this kind of stuff right now. I’m already stressed enough. My work life balance is so fucking off. As it stands I don’t like any of the stuff that I’m learning about. I’m stressed all the time. I’m working harder than I ever have and I have the worst grades that I have ever received. Wtf. I got a b in my last humanities class and I didn’t even do half of the assigned material. That balance  is incredibly skewed. Like what’s wrong with college. What the fuck is wrong with it. How does something like that happen. Where a student can put in literally no effort one semester and receive straight a’s and then the next semester they try even harder and then can barely pass their class. That actually reminds me. I need to cite socrates for my most recent assignment in Humanities 01. Her class is the one that I’m complaining about here. It’s too difficult. I feel like I’m cracking because of it. I mean. I can lie in that class. If I lied I would probably get a better grade. None of these teachers actually read what you write. They don’t actually care. So if I wanted to I could just bullshit everything. As a matter of fact I think all of school is bullshit. I also think that we should be paid to go to school so we don’t have to fucking work full time just to support ourselves while we have another full time career. Like, at least pay people up until their associates. Ive been going to school for seven years. That’s an insane amount of time to have suffered through academia. I wouldn’t mind if it was only academia that I had to deal with, but the fact of the matter is that academia is the part of my life that I actually enjoy. In order to support myself through college I have to work a job that is mentally draining and I have to do it for fifty hours a week and even then I barely make enough to survive. So what is the solution? Free housing for full time students and a free cafeteria for full time students that serves decent meals that you request the day before. If you don’t request a meal then they don’t make a meal for you. If you want to work while you go to school then you can. But all students must maintain at least a c average in order to remain in the program. If a student falls below a c average one semester then they are put on mandatory academic counseling in order to maintain their access to free housing and food. What happens to students when they lose their access? That’s a good question. Im not sure right now. Punishing them would be counter intuitive. The goal is to create an environment where everyone feels welcome and motivated to succeed.

My whole point is that I don’t have enough time. I can’t find enough time to do all of the things that I need to do. I feel unproductive. But at the same time I need to sleep. I have only been getting about four hours of sleep a night on average. I finish work. I make dinner and clean up and then I get to work on my homework. My whole body shakes all of the time. I get light headed, sometimes I lose hours of my day to nothing. My mind literally blacks out. Would my day be better if slept? Do I still have those multi hour long unproductive spells? Yes I do, want when I sleep. I just lose focus every now and then. Have I tried Adderall? I absolutely have. It helps for certain things. However, at the end of the day, its far less effective than everyone says it is. I’ve worked my way up from 5mg to 40 mg and even then its like “yo, this stuff doesn’t really do what it says its supposed to. Even at sixty mg instant its about as effective as a cup of coffee. The only thing that seems to be able to get me out of my head long enough to be productive is alcohol, which is so bad. I spent all of last semester drunk. I got incredible grades. I had more than enough time on my hands to spend with my spouse, which I can’t say for this semester. The only issue with this is that I was fucking drunk all the time. I gained 40 pounds and spent my work day on the verge of vomiting. I got in a car accident because I was so tired that I could barely keep my eyes open. I am literally killing myself. I am literally killing myself. I am literally killing myself. The structured lifestyle is torture. Day in and day out, the same thing over and over again. I’m worried that when I start estimating its going to be the same thing. Ill be fine for a few months, and then at the eight month mark ill hate my job. I need to be free. I need to be able to write and talk and interact with he people of their world. I need to write, and I need to write about what I want. Is this form of writing any different than writing by hand, I don’t think so? Maybe? Ts fine and all writing on a keyboard. It’s been at least a decade since people have been writing this way almost exclusively. They question is have novels gotta better or have they gotten worse. I can only say that I am almost incapable of reading anything modern. Especially works that may or may not become literary classics. I also can’t read as fast as some people. I wonder how they read all of the books that they read. I think that after I get my bachelors I’m going to focus all of my free time reading new literature. A novel a day would be a good goal. Why should a three hundred page book be difficult to read in a few hours? I recently read a 200page book in a day and had a great time of it. I even took copies nots with is unusual for me. I was ony able to do that because it was a part of the curriculum. If it wasn’t a part of that I wouldn’t have read it and I wouldn’t have been able to even have the time to read it

What really gets me is the academic research paper. Why do we have to do research on random ass Tomic and write papers about it. They always say that you can write about whatever you want to talk about, but when I write about something truly world changing like I did about big data all the back in fucking 2007 when nobody even cared how the teacher tell me that it was in irrelevant topic that was too broad. I mean its not a broad topic alt all. Data collection and the issue that occurs when it is collected. Ie the stealing and unregulated sharing of data is complete bullshit. Nobody cared then, it was n issue that fucking mattered then and it fucking matters now. Big data is so important. What you search, what you read, what you are interested in is your own person. It is who you are. That is what makes it so incredibly valuable. When we live on the internet we think in the internet. Everyone that uses the internet shares there deepest thoughts to google and reddit. Even those that don’t are texting it or keeping it in their notes apps. Its like if someone had access to your diary, your personal conversations, and your alarm clocks, because even alarm clocks are digital now. They have access to this information, and they use it against you. They even know what you watch, and how much you pay attention to what you’re watching because they know when you’re on your phone scrolling through facebook. And this sounds crazy. It would have been crazy 50 years ago. But today it is not crazy. People are watching you all the time. They pay attention to the conversations that you have in front of smart speakers, they watch you on security cameral. They check your GPS data at all times. They read your emails, they look at your nots, they check your interests and disinterests. They know that you slow down when you see s=certain things and they know that you speed up after certain things. It sounds stupid. It sounds ridiculous, but all you have to do is look at the power at your fingertips as you read this very article. Look no further than your damn phone. You fool. If you think anything is private, just know that everything you do is being watched and recorded. Not by people of course. But by computers. Computers who are profiling you. Learning how to manipulate you specifically. What keywords turn you on. What keywords piss you off. All they have to do is out the right thing in front of you and you will either buy what you’re seeing or at the very least recognize it. That’s where this whole thing gets so fucked up. Advertisers, politicians, random Russians, random Chinese people, random anyone with enough resources to make you do a thing. All they have to do is know what catches your attention and then right before or after that they show you the thing that they want you to see because even if you’re only looking at the dog, nike is at the top of the page and even though you're not fucking looking at that shit, you like running, and you like dogs so all they have to do is put that shit in front of you enough times and suddenly the nike swoosh is one of your favorite things in the world. You have familiarized yourself with it. It is now safe says your lizard brain and suddenly it's only of a few dozen things that you like to see. I can guarantee you that if I showed you something that you didn’t understand. Just a random mark. You wouldn’t look twice at it. You might even associate it with something cheap in comparison to nike. This is regardless of the actual range in quality. You would still buy a thing form nike that was produced for half the price but sold to you for double the price than you would the other thing. No matter how smart or how critical you are there are basic human instincts and those instincts can’t be denied.

Can you even fucking change this thing. Is it established in childhood. I have a cat who is skittish as hell. I love cats, I would never hurt one but still she loves me but is afraid as hell of Perone else. I raised her, I adopted her when she was only thee months old and yet she behaves the way that she doe. Was this behavior bred into her or is she skittish because she had observed me being uneasy in front of strangers and therefore learned this behavior. I don’t fucking know man, but its the exact way that internet marketing, marketing in general really. Its how it works. You are more likely to eat at a McDonalds than you are a regional fast food chain when you’re driving through a town. Your more likely to stay at a marmot than you are a Hilton if you were raised in a town that had a marmot and didn’t have a Hilton. You’re more familiar to marmot because its what you’ve seen. Its what you know. It was the nicest hotel in your town  that has other hotels across the world. Even if you associate it with a shitty crowd, you know that its still a good enough place to sleep for a not unreasonable sum of money. Human instinct. If you know a place is safe you know you can sleep there without being completely uncomfortable. Its the same thing with internet marketing. If it doesn’t apply to you think about cable. Think about the groceries you buy from a person behind a counter. Think about the places you use your bank cars which goes through a computer and knows where you are and what you’re buying. You’re shits not private. It never will be as long as the internet exists and continues to improve. The rise of the machines isn’t brought about by a machine that kills you directly. rough about by a computer that divides us against perfectly fine people until we eventually kill each other via nuclear winter. The more we allow the world to be determined by the people that write algorithms that feed us content and places to go the more likely we are to fall prey to an algorithm built with malicious intent. This is because most people don’t know how to read code and the ones that do most of them can’t read or write code at the level of the one percent of the one percent that decide what happens on the internet. Or rather, that the algorithms that they people write that curate the web for them.

Compton could literally be anywhere. La is the creative capital of creative work because the degrees of separation between you and your friend base and the people who decide what’s produces are like two or three at tops. Compton isn’t special. Eve lived in the area. It’s not the hood, everywhere is the hood, Sacramento is the hood. People that live in fucking Ladera heights can claim that they live in the hood. People from Sacramento are just as cultured as anyone from la. people from Folsom are just as relevant as the millions of people from la. hip hop beats are just chill study beats. These people sit in traffic all day every day. That’s all I have to say about that. La is great, but so is Sacramento. So is every other city in the us. Most towns are just as special people just need the encouragement to create. One in 20 is a genius. When you get 20 people together even for a moment you have a guaranteed stroke of genius. People are genius by nature. There’s nothing special about plato, Picasso, or Okonma, they just found a small group of people to speak to who spread their message far and wide and now they are who they are. God I didn’t realize how much I needed to just yell these things to. The thoughts in my mind that sleep in my unconscious thought. I wish that I could just record all of my thoughts. Maybe I would think the same things less often. Venting in a permanent forum Is so nice.

#unfiltered #unedited #raw