#this is the 5th time ive tried posting this can anyone hear me

[ahkeb]

Nami is so cool I wish meteorology was real

#one piece #cat burglar nami #nami #⛈️ #my art #this is the 5th time ive tried posting this can anyone hear me #been a while since ive painted lol #favs #OP #autodesk sketchbook

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 304: The Council of OFA

Previously on BnHA: Hawks and Best Jeanist were all, “what up Todofam, we are here to apply for the positions of ‘son #4’ and ‘weird uncle’, respectively,” and then proceeded to insert themselves into the family drama without waiting for an answer. Hawks briefed Endeavor on the nation’s current status of “totally fucked”, promised to help him sort that out, and then asked him about OFA. Endeavor was all, “oh do you mean One For All, the mysterious thing that my intern Deku was apparently being targeted for?” and then we cut away, presumably before Endeavor could clarify that it never occurred to him to follow up on that, and Hawks was all “no of course not, why would it occur to anyone other than me to follow up on any of this super weird and ominously important shit.” Anyway so meanwhile Bakugou was all “LET ME SCREAM AT DEKU UNTIL HE WAKES UP” and the other kids were all “NO”, and then the chapter ended with All Might being all “I wonder what the vestige!me is currently chatting with Deku about.”

Today on BnHA: Deku drops in on the Vestiges, who are all “sup Deku, how do you like our fancy chairs.” OFA II and III are all “if you need us we’ll just be standing here silently in the corner pretending to be invisible and sparking endless discourse with our mere existence.” OFA IV is all “and now I will explain to you in a very convoluted way that you being quirkless was actually a good thing, since it means that you are probably not going to suddenly drop dead at the age of twenty. But also you’re probably going to be the last user of OFA for that very same reason.” Deku is all “that is wild. I’m just gonna stand here and stare at my hand.” Nana is all “so now that that’s settled could you please do me a small favor and kill my grandson for me”, because having just one topic to discourse about this week WASN’T ENOUGH, apparently. Thanks so much Horikoshi.

(ETA: okay so just a note before I start, this week’s RHA translation was a huge mess, so I followed up this chapter by reading a couple of other translations. the main one I’m using for reference is the one by @hanashimas​, whose weekly posts I highly recommend. anyway so you’ll see a couple of ETAs in this post in places where the initial translation was off.)

how many layers of bandages did they wrap this poor kid’s fucking hand in omg

jesus Deku. are you holding onto a bouquet of flowers under that thing?? or a tennis racket??

omg yes, finally

is he reading these names off a teleprompter lol. and if so, what has Jeanist ever done to slight you, Deku? “god bless Kacchan and Aizawa-sensei and Todoroki-kun and everyone else in the whole wide world... except for Best Jeanist. fuck that guy.” actually this joke would be funnier if half of tumblr didn’t legit feel that way lol but anyway

OH MY GOD

I NEED TO HAVE A TALK TOO. ABOUT, OH, EVERYTHING

I got immediate KHR vibes from ALL OF THIS. this is seriously such a Vongola aesthetic. “let’s use the luxuriously cushioned chairs with the seat backs that are ten feet high, and arrange all of the handsome ghost people in a big circle” like come on

that said there are also some slight LoTR vibes as well. “bring forth the ring, Deku”

I like how Six is sitting there with his feet drawn up all casual, but with his arms inexplicably sticking STRAIGHT OUT IN FRONT OF HIM and dangling over his knees like he’s doing some sort of zombie walk

apparently the Fourth wasn’t a big fan of shoes huh

interesting that All Might is the only one who’s still faint/indistinct, and and that Two and Three are fully visible

(ETA: the rest of my speculation about Two and Three has been moved into a separate post, the better to focus on the shit that’s actually happening in this chapter lol.)

and lastly, interesting that all of them are talking now, except for All Might (and I guess the Second and Third as well). to the best of my knowledge Deku hasn’t unlocked the Sixth’s quirk yet, so I guess the quirks don’t really have anything to do with it

oh and it looks like Deku’s mouth is still covered. I guess that’s convenient for the vestiges since we all know it’s hard to stop Deku once he gets going. but on the other hand it’s very inconvenient for people like me who wanted to see some interaction. alas

so First says that OFA’s power has grown a lot in the last four months (i.e. since Deku unlocked Blackwhip), and now the vestiges can communicate with each other as well as Deku

so even when Deku’s not around they can all just chill with each other. this is such a weird thing to me lol. like it’s cool, don’t get me wrong, but it’s also strange as hell to know that you’ve got eight other people hanging out in your head spying on everything you do and having conversations with each other about it. it would be like if Dark Shadow had someone to hang out with other than Tokoyami. good thing you weren’t triplets, Tokoyami

First says that it’s become easier for the vestiges to interact with Deku ever since TomurAFO barged into the OFA Domain back at Jakku. huh

(ETA: apparently this is because AFO forcibly pulled out OFA’s power when he was trying to steal the quirk, so I guess that makes sense.)

okay thank you Banjou for addressing this concern which I initially brought up as a joke, but which was apparently real enough for you to reassure Deku about

“don’t worry, even though we’re awake and hanging out inside of you at all times, we’re definitely not secretly watching and making fun of every single thing you do” hmmmmm

(ETA: “not that you could do anything about it even if we were, since you’re probably going to be the last OFA holder ever!” I don’t trust anything this asshole says lmao.)

OH SHIT??

YESSS DEKU now you can hold them accountable for all of their bullshit! because I do not doubt that there will be bullshit lol but let’s see how that goes

oh damn

well okay then. you didn’t have to stand up and walk over to him and loom all threateningly like that but okay sir

this guy has kind of a Kimimaro vibe to him. remember? that bone-growing guy from Naruto? except I’m pretty sure he had eyebrows. and wasn’t twenty feet tall. speaking of which, that explains the chairs

why are you wearing only 3/5ths of a shirt

lol what

someone’s gonna have to explain this to me. is he just redundant or something lol, or is he strangely poetical or what

(ETA: apparently HE’S MAKING A PUN omg. I immediately gained +10 love for him lol. also it flows a lot better in Japanese. this is one of the things Caleb is usually good at, so we’ll see what he does with the wordplay.)

omg the hermit theory is true!!

“I’M NOT WEIRD, IT’S SOCIETY WHICH IS WEIRD.” lol whatever you say buddy. also love how Banjou tried to give him a big hearty slap on the back but Hermit Boy was not having it lmao

IS HE TRYING TO CAPTURE HIM WITH BLACKWHIP

AND ACTUALLY, NO, SIR, AS A MATTER OF FACT, WE ARE NOT AWARE. SO SPILL!!

?!!?

okay my first response was LOL ARE YOU SERIOUS, THAT’S THE BIG SECRET!? -- and then it hit me what the significance of “died from old age... AT AGE FORTY” meant. at which point it was like “!!!!!” and then “OH, SHIT”

(ETA: there’s also an Iida joke here somewhere but I’m just too tired to make it.)

oh my god oh my god

did he somehow get a copy of the coroner’s report or something? like how does he even know that he died from “old age” as opposed to any number of other natural causes? ??

but anyway. so this is the quirk singularity coming into play then I guess. but then how come All Might is still alive and ticking?

(ETA: so this is one example of where this week’s translation is a mess lol. apparently the Fourth explains here that he didn’t know what the fuck he died from until All Might researched it. and it turns out there actually was an autopsy lol so there you go.)

so Fourth says he held OFA for eighteen years, and since he knew he would never be strong enough to defeat AFO on his own he basically just spent all his time punching rocks in the woods and training to power the quirk up

oh shit

is he implying that his body literally fell apart?? like that’s how he got the scars on his face? -- IS THAT WHAT KEEPS HAPPENING TO TOMURA, THEN. oh shit

DUDE

so you’re telling me that this quirk actively shortens the lifespan of anyone who uses it?? and my little boy here has had it now for a year already?? fuck me, I have immediately have a TON of thoughts about all this but let me save it until he’s done with his explanation

THANK YOU, DEKU

right?? how come All Might didn’t die then. even after he got injured. please don’t tell me he actually is dying still and is just being slow about it because I SWEAR TO GOD

what does this mean??

so what you’re trying to say is you all have NO FUCKING IDEA how long Deku’s gonna be able to hold this quirk before he SUDDENLY DROPS DEAD?! five generations ago this dude was able to hold it for eighteen years, and then four generations later All Might was able to hold it for thirty-odd years or so, and now Deku has it and you all have no clue which way it’s gonna go? actually this makes it sound like it really wasn’t OFA that killed the Fourth at all and you guys are just really bad at forming hypotheses. but since you’re making a big plot point out of it I guess it must be true

and don’t think I didn’t notice the part where you said you didn’t have OFA very long and then “died while fighting”, Firsto. I want to hear more about that. specifically who you passed the quirk onto before your death

and yes, if we are agreeing that OFA was the cause of the Fourth’s death, then the conclusion on this next page is the natural one to draw

so that’s a bit of a relief then, because Deku is quirkless too. so it means he won’t be able to hold OFA forever (and will probably have to find another quirkless person to pass it on to), but at least he won’t be randomly dying out of the blue next Tuesday or something

oh my god now he’s talking about OFA and AFO and user consciousnesses and all sorts of good theory stuff but it’s so much exposition. you’re really gonna make me read all this lol

wait what. why would All Might being quirkless have anything to do with the presence of his vestige in OFA Outer Space Party Land

but Deku is also quirkless and he’s clearly visible and chatting with you guys. so what gives. like how much of this is verified fact and how much of it is you guys just shrugging and making stuff up lol

SERIOUSLY, GUYS

BUT DEKU IS ALSO -- you know what, never mind sob. none of this shit makes any sense but whatever

(ETA: seriously, this all seems like an awful lot of speculation on their part. for Deku’s sake I sure hope they’re right.)

FSSKDJFLSKLKJLKJL ALL MIGHT IS FIFTY-FIVE?!

lol that’s a full ten years past my closest estimate, wow. but this pretty much confirms his age now at last! or at least confirms it within a couple of years, because we know All Might and Nana met when he was in middle school, and he presumably had the quirk by the time he took the U.A. entrance exam. so yeah. gonna go with fifty-five

so they think that because All Might was quirkless, OFA was better able to adapt to his body and became his true quirk, as opposed to being an extra quirk that stacked on top of the one he already had and overwhelmed him. ties in back to the whole “AFO used to bend people to his will by forcing quirks on them” thing, as well as the “Noumus are all mindless because of the strain of having multiple quirks”

Two and Three are really ruining the serious vibe of this scene here lol

they look like they’re doing the counting for hide and seek

and is this Deku talking now? I was about to get mad at First for implying that quirkless people are somehow freaks, as opposed to “normal” people jdslk

so in other words, don’t go giving it to your best friend all casually for shits and giggles, Deku. even if it would make a really cool climax for a movie. well shit. maybe that’s why they were so quick to nope back into Deku’s body afterward

so First says that because quirkless people are becoming rarer and rarer, the fact that All Might just happened to stumble upon Deku is “nothing short of a miracle.” which, yeah, that was definitely a stroke of luck there. being quirkless saved his life. but being quirkless is also part of why he was chosen in the first place, and we’ve always known that much

“in other words, kiddo...”

looks like there was some hurried clone stamp usage going on here lol. but props to RHA as always for putting this scan out so fast, especially given how exposition-heavy this week’s chapter has been

“anyways, that was the main topic” ARE YOU SERIOUS. there are like ten other topics imma need you all to get to here, people

(ETA: seems like this is a mistranslation; the line should actually read something more along the lines of “and now for the main topic.”)

FFFFFFFFF

“ENJOY YOUR CLIFFHANGER THIS WEEK.” dskfalkjlkjwlgkjl you really went and dumped this discourse on us yet again. fucking...

(ETA: forgot to mention, but as several people mentioned, this seems to be another mistranslation -- rather than asking Deku to kill Tomura as though it’s doing her a personal favor, Nana is asking “will you be able to do it.” in other words more of an “are you capable of doing it” type of thing. which is a very reasonable question to ask given that Deku is, well, Deku.)

anyways, and the answer is obviously going to be “no” of course. this isn’t going to end any differently than when the previous Avatars all told Aang to kill Ozai. but I guess it means we’re in for a fun conversation next week

so Nana looks pretty grim here though (nothing at all like the person who once taught All Might the importance of saving people with a smile), and I’m wondering if this means she believes that her grandson is already beyond saving. as in killing him would be a mercy, as opposed to him continuing to live with AFO bending his mind and body to his will. except if that is the case, I think she’s underestimating Tomura’s own will. and definitely underestimating Deku’s will to save

and also, just... I’m so fucking sick of AFO screwing the Shimura family over, honestly. this is exactly what he wanted. well fuck you, guy. you don’t get to have what you want. go out there and save Tomura, Deku. for his sake and for Nana’s. give them some hope. do your thing, boy. can’t wait for your big speech all about it next chapter lol

#bnha 304 #midoriya izuku #all might #ofa prime #ofa iv #idk what his name is I forgot it already lol #the actual forty-year-old man #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #ofa the first

[notanacousticsetcal]

speak now - luke hemmings

summary - based off of the song speak now by taylor swift -- highly recommend listening before reading for the full experience.

warnings - none? nerves and kind of public speaking

word count - 1.6k - lyrics not included this time, lemme know if you guys prefer that

a/n - im SO sorry ive been MIA, i have had absolutely zero motivation. this is some trash i wrote a while ago and i thought i would post it while im trying to find inspiration to write something better. its the 5th installment of the song series so you can go check those out as well if you want! also, like i said in the word count, i did not include the lyrics this time around. i think i prefer that but im not sure, let me know if you guys want me to include the lyrics next time and i will! thank you for reading, i missed yall.

***

Your mom’s old pale yellow dress didn’t fit as well as you had hoped but you had no other options, formal events were not a common occurrence in your life. The wedges pinched at your toes and the thin dress straps dug into your shoulders but the soft yellow complimented your skin and you liked the ribbon around the waist so it wasn’t a total loss.

You sucked in a sharp breath, adjusting the dress once more in the mirror before grabbing your purse and hustling out the door. 

This wasn’t happening. You weren’t actually doing this. The girl who feels like she has to throw up before public speaking and stutters over small talk and avoids eye contact at all costs is supposed to stand up in front of 100 people and declare her love for the boy getting married to someone else? You felt nauseous thinking about it.

But you couldn’t sit idly by and watch the love of your life say “I do,” to the snobby girl that put gum in your hair in middle school. If there was ever a time that you would stand in front of a crowd voluntarily and speak, it would be now.

The venue was beautiful. The church had vaulted ceilings and large stained glass windows that cast colorful shadows on the hardwood flooring. There were cascading white curtains and pale pink tablecloths with little white doilies. It was pretty but humble and you felt a pang of jealousy in your chest.

Concealing yourself in the crowd wasn’t difficult considering she’d invited the county and all its neighbors. Everyone was in the pews standing and mingling and you noticed the only group sitting quietly was the family of the bride herself, all looking around carefully like the normal folk were unevolved cavemen. They wore coordinating lavender outfits with done up hair and hats with little feathers -- something straight out of a period piece. 

You rolled your eyes at their judgmental nature and apparent superiority complex before your attention was drawn to the boys in the front row talking seriously among themselves, dread written clearly on their faces. 

Calum, Ashton and Michael wore similar black tuxes, looking uncomfortable in the formal getup. You only watched for a few moments before you caught Ashton’s attention. He first looked shocked but his expression quickly became sincere. He gave you an apologetic smile which you returned before heading to the back to avoid any more curious eyes. His family would surely recognize you if they saw you and you didn’t want any extra attention on you until you were subjecting yourself to it. 

As you waited for the ceremony to start, you stared fondly out the window at the snowy trees and calm serenity of nature before allowing yourself to be whisked away in a vivid daydream about what it might be like to tell him how you truly feel. 

You jumped, pulled from your daydream by dark, heavy chords coming from the church organ. You cringed a little as the horribly ill fitting song continued, but readied yourself for the ceremony to begin. 

The silk purple curtains concealed your figure enough in the back of the church and your heart rate began to rise. This was happening. You were about to profess your love to a man who might turn you down in front of everyone and their mother. But it would be worth it. You couldn’t live your whole life wondering “what if?”

You heard a squeak of door hinges from your right and held still. Any sudden movements might give you away. 

A young girl came running through with a wicker basket in hand, poorly distributing rose petals along the aisle. Something caught your eye in the front of the room. 

Luke stepped out, front and center, and straightened his tie. Your breath caught in your throat. He looked just the same as the last time you’d seen him on that warm summer night. You had expected some drastic change, to not even recognize him. But it was Luke. The same one that picked flowers with you at recess and stopped to wait for you whenever you needed to tie your shoe. The same one that was always there to dry your tears and to watch dumb romantic comedies with you without complaining. He stood there quietly, clean shaven and rosy cheeked, the same Luke you knew and loved. 

You pushed away the more upsetting memories, like the one from that warm, sticky night. The image of his tear stained cheeks and pleading eyes. 

Moments later, your eyes were pulled from Luke. Courtney came strutting through the open Mahogany doors, waving like she was fucking Queen Elizabeth.

You rolled your eyes at her bedazzled ball gown and fake pageant smile. She didn’t care about Luke, she cared about image and reputation. Which is why you were really about to piss her off.

You looked back towards Luke and tried to read his expression but it was stoic, unmoved. You wish that was me, don’t you?

Courtney reached Luke and shot him a wide smile, to which he returned. Except Luke's was empty, not sincere. Luke had always thought Courtney was beautiful and smart and made the decision from there that marrying her wouldn’t be so bad. After you had turned him down in the glow of the firelight on that July night. It broke him and you hated yourself every day because of it. You weren’t ready to love him then. But you were most certainly ready now. 

Ready to risk everything for that blue eyed boy. 

The ceremony progressed and the preacher neared the end of the formalities. You felt your time was nearing. Your knees were weak and knocky, your hands shaking. 

The preacher paused, and with his booming voice said “if anyone can show just cause why this couple cannot lawfully be joined together in matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.” He looked down, preparing to move on and read the next portion, assuming no one would protest. No sane person ever protested. 

Your breath hitched in your throat. It was now or never. If you didn’t find it in you to step forward at this moment, the person you love most in this world might be gone forever. 

The room fell silent and you closed your eyes, pushing the sheer curtain aside and taking a shaky step forward. You heard heads turn and a few audible gasps.

When you opened your eyes, everyone had turned to you. Every familiar face, every friend, every stranger.

You caught Courtney’s eye and she looked as if every fiber of her being was on fire. If someone reached out and touched her in that moment, they’d get a 3rd degree burn. She looked like she was trying to strangle you with her eyes.

You flattened your dress once more and looked up, bracing yourself for the look on Luke’s face. 

He didn’t look angry or upset, just… confused. And surprised.

You took that as a sign to continue. You softly cleared your throat, speaking directly to the man in front of you. “I am not the kind of girl who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasion but you are not the kind of boy… who should be marrying the wrong girl.” There were some shocked whispers and appalled gasps but you ignored them.

You walked forward down the aisle to get a clearer look at Luke and stopped at the stairs. You felt like you were alone with him now and it made it easier. “So don’t say yes, let’s run away now. I’ll meet you when you’re out of the church at the back door. Don’t wait or say a single vow, you need to hear me out.” You looked at him with pleading eyes and for the first time, his facade fell. You saw the glint of relief in his eyes and the slump of his once tense shoulders. 

Luke looked around once more at all of the people that had gathered there today for him and knew he needed to make a decision. He turned to look at his friends stationed behind him, and to no surprise, their faces were lit up with pure happiness and relief. He couldn’t help but smile back at them. Calum threw him a thumbs up and Michael mouthed “go with her, dumbass.” 

Luke turned back to the audience and spotted his mother in the crowd. He tried to read her expression but when she gave him a soft, curt nod, he knew what he had to do. 

He quickly grabbed Courtney’s hands and your face immediately fell. He was going to choose her after all.

Then, he whispered something you didn’t expect. “I'm sorry, Court. This is a mistake, you don’t love me and I don’t love you — you and I both know that. We can’t do this. I have to go.” He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek quickly as she stood, frozen.

You felt a pang of guilt. But then you remembered that she would get over it and be marrying someone filthy rich by the time she was 25 and didn’t feel so bad anymore.

Luke then turned back to you. He jogged down the steps and pulled you into a hug. It was so silent in the church now, you could hear a pin drop.

He grabbed your shoulders and kissed your forehead. “Let’s run away now, I’ll meet you when I’m out of my tux at the back door.”

You nodded, tears in your eyes, and ran towards the double doors of the church. This was the best decision you had ever made.

You stood in the crisp, chilly air, waiting for Luke to come out of the door on the side of the church. Snow fell on your hair and eyelashes and you reached out a hand to catch some flakes. 

In only three minutes he’d managed to change back into his black skinny jeans, looking like himself again. You could’ve cried at the sight.

“Hi,” you said. What else do you say to someone when you just got them to call off a marriage at the alter?

His smile grew and he ran forward, nearly tackling you in a giant hug. His hands found the back of your head and his eyes searched your face, memorizing every feature, worried that at any second, he might wake up from this amazing dream. “So glad you were around when they said speak now.”

taglist (dm or ask to be added!): @theshyspy

#luke hemmings #luke #luke 5sos #luke hemmings fluff #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #5sos #5 seconds of summer #calum hood #calum 5sos #ashton irwin #ashton 5sos #michael clifford #michael 5sos #calum #ashton #michael #fluff #smut #5 seconds of smut

[stephfights]

First post...waiting for my fate

You have a lump.  Wait, what?  My entire life was about to change.  But let me back up and tell you what has led me to this point.  At 38 years old I have been relatively healthy my whole life.  Mean as a snake, country as cornbread and loyal to a fault....that’s me.  But not sick.  I married my soulmate, Chris, in 2003 and had our son (my angel), Clayton, in 2007.  I was a stay at home mom for the first 8 years of Clayton’s life.  I then decided it was time for me to get out of the house and I have now been working at Kroger for over 4 years.  I have a wonderful family, the BEST friends ever and the most awesome customers anyone could ask for. 

In the last couple of years my hair seems to be thinning more that it always has.  I am always hot...not warm....HOT!  I sweat uncontrollably...mostly from my head/face/neck by just doing simple tasks.  I don’t sleep well.  I have gained quite a bit of weight that will not go away.  And I have more acne now than I ever had in high school!  But...I am that person....that person who doesn’t really care for doctors and thinks nothing bad will ever happen to them.  I am the strong one.  I take care of everyone else.  I guess that is what has gotten me to where I am today.  I have spent so many years taking care of everyone else that I put myself on the back burner.

Fast forward to May 2019.  I wake up with a horrible case of vertigo.  Drunk as pet monkey and vomiting I go to the local family physician’s office that I have been going to for 5 years (only for small things like the flu)  Of course...there was a new nurse practitioner.  This was about the 5th different one in the last 3 years.  He started asking me questions about my medical history...and wanted to know why I hadn’t had a well care check up in years.  I told him I didn’t have time...and I didn’t really see the point. At this time my husband shows up at the office.  He has left work because he thinks his wife, who never gets sick, must be on her last leg.  He made me promise before I left that I would come back and have that visit.  Then he lectured me about smoking.  That’s right, I have been a cigarette smoker for 22 years.  I smiled and thanked him and went on my way.

Over the summer Chris starts riding my ass about my promise to the NP to have a well care check up.  He then proceeds to tell my best friend, Amber, who also rides my ass.  After getting tired of listening to them I finally agree just to get them to shut up!

August 2019.  I go for my well care visit.  I decide if I’m going to do this I might as well tell him every little thing that I think is “wrong” with me.  I have had a large thyroid for many years (thanks Dad) but never had any problems with it.  I haven’t had a thyroid ultrasound or blood work in 10 years.  He thinks that may be the cause of some of the symptoms I am having.  So I agree to do both.  The blood work comes back perfectly normal.  The ultrasound shows a goiter and 2 small cysts.  No big deal really.  He didn’t do anything else.  He doesn’t do pap smears or breast exams.  So I think I am home free!  But he wants me to see a specialist.  Just to see what they think.  I am referred by one of my customers to an Endochronologist at Vanderbilt.  Of course I can’t get in until November 4th.  I was pissed but what could I do.  I wanted to see the best.

November 4th comes.  Chris takes off work to go with me.  I have to admit...I was SO nervous.  I don’t know why.  I just don’t like doctors.  After self diagnosing on the internet (don’t EVER do that)  I was convinced I had a brain tumor.  Dr. Craig Sussman comes in and is the nicest man I have ever met.  Like Mr. Rogers nice.  I was totally at ease.  He asked about a million questions and answered any questions I had.  He wants to do an exam from the waste up.  I’m like okay...whatever floats your boat.  So I put on a lovely (enter sarcasm) gown and he comes back in to do a breast and thyroid exam.  Right breast...all good.  Left breast....he finds a lump.  I couldn’t believe it!  I made him show me where it was.  Then he showed Chris where it was.  Damn, it was large!  Where did that come from and how did we miss that?  Even though I had not been to a female doctor in about 8 years I still did a self breast exam.  A lot of times at night while I was laying in bed watching TV.  Dr. S then does a thyroid exam but doesn’t really feel anything worrisome.  I can tell his worry is about that lump.  He wants to schedule a diagnostic mammogram and ultrasound.  Of course...he tells me it is probably a cyst.  I still had a super uneasy feeling.  My mom has had several breast cysts and I think maybe I have inherited it from her.  So I schedule the tests....and wait for 2 weeks until that appointment.

November 18th.  I have dreaded this for 2 weeks.  I have heard all of the horror stories about how horrible and painful a mammogram is.  I do not like pain...in fact...I’m kind of a wuss.  I ask Chris what if the scans do show something.  But he doesn’t really want to think about that.  I am hoping he can come back with me for the tests....of course they will not let him.  I am literally shivering with tears in my eyes waiting for my mamm.  The tech, Jessica, is so wonderful.  She tries to calm my nerves and gets me in position for the first picture.  Beep...that’s it?  Yep....a mammogram is nothing.  I thought they were going to try to squeeze my boobies as flat as a pancake.  I knew that wasn’t going to work!  But it is literally as easy as an xray.  Jessica laughs and we go on and finish all of the scans.  You have to have a lot more pictures with a diagnostic mammogram as opposed to a screening mammogram.  Then onto the ultrasound.  It’s your typical u/s with the sticky gel and them pushing on you with the little flat scope.  I watch as she measures and pauses.  Then she goes up into my arm pit.  I’m thinking hey...I know my boobs are not perky anymore and they ain’t way up there, but I let her do what she’s doing.  Trying not focus on the weird position she has me in and the cramp that is developing in my shoulder.  She then goes and gets the radiologist.  I know something must be up...but maybe it’s just my fat non perky boobs not cooperating.  She pushes and pauses, pushes and pauses and they whisper back and forth.  Telling me that they are just looking for certain things.  After they finally get done...they ask if my husband is with me.  They are going to give me my results today.  Yippee...I don’t have to wait another flipping week and worry about this!  They go get him and put us in a little room and I tell him that it was “easy peasy” and I don’t know why I was so worked up over it.  We sit there and laugh about how dumb I was and how crazy I had been leading up to this appointment.  Then the radiologist comes in.  I swear she must be some kind of angel.  Her name is Dr. Sara Harvey.  She is sweet, kind and gentle.  She sits down, looks me in the eye, and says you do have a mass and it is solid.  Solid?  Cysts aren’t solid?  She continues with you need a biopsy ASAP.  Do they biopsy cysts?  Nothing is making any sense.   I look up at her and ask is it cancer.  She says yes...I am 90% sure it is.  At this moment my whole world changes.  I can’t look at my husband.  I can’t look at her.  I can only look at the ground and think wow, so this is how I’m going to die.  Chris takes over and asks if we can do the biopsy that day.  She leaves the room to go see what can be done.  As she walks out and the door clicks shut I lose it.  I am sobbing uncontrollably.  Begging my husband to tell me what I am suppose to do now.  He has no words.  He just holds me.  Dr. Harvey comes back in and says the biopsy can be done at 1:30 that afternoon....or the following Monday.  Again, I can’t speak.  So Chris tells her we are going to do it that day.  I finally find my voice and ask her who would be doing the procedure.  She says there are a number of radiologist who can do it.  I don’t want them.  I want her.  I don’t know why but I feel this weird connection with her.  She tells me if I want her to do it then she will change her schedule around and do it.  We leave the office and have an hour and half to wait before I have to go back for the biopsies.  I can’t eat, I can’t think, I can only sit and cry.  Chris starts making phone calls.  To my dad so he can pick up Clayton from school.  To my best friend, who is absolutely beside her self.  To my boss, who is not only my boss but a wonderful friend.  To my brother, who lives 9 hours away.

That was the shortest hour and a half in my life.  As I said before, I do not like pain.  But I REALLY do not like needles!  I have no tattoos, I refuse to take shots, IV’s send me into a panic attack.  But I know I am fixing to have a huge needle suck in my left breast.  And again my husband cannot go back with me.  I have to do this by myself.  I am taken back to a room and the nurse goes over exactly what they are going to do and any complications that could arise after.  Dr. Harvey comes in....and wraps me in a big hug.  I cry and cry.  And she just keeps on hugging me.  I lay down on a gurney and they put a warm blanket on me.  Dr. Harvey explains that she will tell me every little thing she is doing before she does it.  First things first is another ultrasound the see exactly where she wants to start.  Then it’s time to numb me up.  I have expressed my fear of needles and they both tell me how great I am doing.  She says it will be a little bee sting and BAM....that is one big ass bee!  I’m not going to lie and tell you that it didn’t hurt....because it did.  But it slowly became numb.  Then BAM....there’s that damn big ass bee again.  She continues over and over until she thinks we are good.  Here comes the biopsy needle.  Which I learn is a core biopsy so it is a much larger needle.  It is so large that she has to cut a slit in my breast with a scalpel to insert it.  She puts it in and it doesn’t really hurt.  It doesn’t feel good but it is tolerable.  She tells me I will hear a click....CLICK....she’s got it.  I am thinking that I am so glad this is over.  Then she tells me that she needs more.  She wants to make sure she has enough so there are no questions later.  I tell her to get extra.  I do not want to do this again!  Click, click.  Okay I’m going to make it.  When she inserts the needle for #4 I feel a sharp stab.  Seems she has to go very deep for this one.  So more numbing meds for me.  Click, click.  She ends up doing 5 total biopsies.  They are telling me how proud they are of me and how strong I am.  I don’t feel very strong.  In fact I feel like I have been beat down.  Both emotionally and physically.  I will get the results in 2-4 business days.  So guess what....more waiting.

Chris stays home with me on Tuesday to make sure I am okay.  My mom comes down and stays with me Wednesday and Thursday.  And we sit and wait.  Every time the phone rings I am looking at the caller ID wondering if this will be the call.  At 2:45 my mom leaves to go pick up Clayton at school.  At 2:48 the phone rings.  It is the call I have been waiting for and I am here by myself.  The lady on the phone must be a saint.  There is no way I could do her job.  “Mrs. Preston I am so sorry to tell you that your biopsies have come back and it is malignant.  You do have cancer”  And just like that.  I am now a cancer patient.  I start trying to ask questions but she doesn’t know any more details.  I am set up with an appt on November 26 with an oncology surgeon and a medical oncologist.  Wow, I get 2 specialist.  She tells me I will find out exactly what type of cancer I have and what stage it is at those appointments.  So once again....we wait.

The worst part of this was having to tell my 12 year old son.  The first thing he said was “But Mom I don’t want you to die”  Yeah...try not to cry after that!

It is a very weird feeling waiting to see if you are going to live or die.  Can this be treated or are they going to give me a certain amount of time to do the things I have always wanted to do?  I do know that I am a fighter.  I have went thru being scared and sad...and now I am just pissed off!  Breast cancer will not beat me!  I have to watch my son grow up!  I can’t kick the bucket and have my husband bring some hoe up in my house!  My parents are not going to have to bury a child!  And my brother will not be an only child!

I am ready for the news tomorrow.  Let’s get going on get this done so I can get on with my life!  Cancer can kiss my ass!

Love to all,

Stephanie Preston

[ryukogo]

i haven’t really been around recently, and that was because i needed some time to recover at least a little from my cat’s death.

he was my first cat - Prince Gavin J. Free the 13th of the Norad Kingdom. he came into my life when my life was achievement hunter and rune factory 4 - and for those who’ve been with me from the beginning, this was a really long time ago - you can probably trace back my first ever post here to being rune factory 4 related. that’s how long he’s been with me.

he died last may 6th. he’d been suffering from feline urinary tract disease. he couldn’t pee. it was all stuck in him. everything was going back to his kidneys and poisoning him. it was slowly killing him.

we thought he’d get better though. we brought him to the vet. he was basically put in intensive care. my dad had told me to be prepared for him to possibly expire or me having to possibly put him down depending on how the doctor interpreted the results. i spent that whole day numb.

but then when we came back for him after a few days, we were told he was getting better! his statistics were improving! i didn’t dare hope further, but... i loved my gavin so much. he was my dearest one. my first. i was asked to make a decision - take him off the IV and let him rest at home, or continue with medication and hope he improves further.

i chose the latter. i thought he was going to get better.

may 5th, i found a significant other. i was delighted. things were going better for me.

may 6th, i received a phone call while making my way to school. he was dead. i didn’t want to go to school. i wanted to grieve. i wanted to curl up in my bed and just die. on the spot. he wasn’t accredited or anything, but he was basically an emotional support cat. he kept me tethered to this reality. he was a large part of my soul.

i couldn’t imagine never seeing him again. never hearing him again.

i was in a daze the whole school day. i tried to play it off whenever anyone told me to take it easy. i made jokes. i made fun of myself. i made light of it. it was the only thing i knew how to do.

i felt so numb.

it’s been two weeks since he’s died. his ashes came home to me a few days ago and i cried all over again. i’m the kind of person who tends to bottle everything up until the bottle shatters or overflows - and it’s overflowing again, so i had to type this out. i can never really empty my bottle. it’s not me. i’ll always be holding myself back.

i miss my gavin. i miss him so much. i haven’t felt this heartbroken in two years.

i just wish i could have him back.

#classo's personal things #personal life #tw death #tw animal death #tw pet death #i just... needed to let this out #vent #i guess?

[bandomgay]

My brain to yours pt.1 b.u

Tw: blood,gore,self harm,violence,hallucinations,slight mention of an ed

Au: hey babes this is gonna be my 5th time trying to post this and i want death so bad...however if there is any confusing things or typos or things seem to quickly paced im sorry thats just my brain babey! Enjoy...i guess

Word count: 1,894

It all started when he was about 6 years old, he never spoke ever,not that he couldn't he just wouldn't, his parents were worried about his development,however nothing was ‘wrong', he had a quite developed thinking process for a child, but it wasn't a good one for his age nor was it a normal one,no child should be so terrified of talking to people and being thought lesser of as his voice shook violently while trying to say the easiest of sentences.

he understood people to early into his young life ,he got the memo that everything was too stupid and too hard to understand so he gave up . his mother took him back and forth to hospitals and child psychologists ,his mother scared for what was to come of him could this weirdness she didn't even have a name or diagnosis for develop into something more as he grew? She thought, would he be normal? Would he be like the other children who laughed and giggled at the littlest of things? Would he be happy like them? She had decided to push her concerns into the back of head deciding that maybe he was just awkward it's okay to not fit in hes a fucking 6 year old boy maybe it's not that deep.

he was now in the 3rd grade now and teachers became more and more loud and responsive with their problems, he thought maybe whatever bad stuff they had going on at home they just needed to vent threw aggressiveness and shaking hands and restless mornings,but however it was their screams he didn't care for, he looked them in the eye wondering what he had done wrong, however he didn't care enough to continually think about it, but he realized slowly that couldn't feel anything like the red faced teacher did, he’d envy the poor mannered teachers feelings if he could, just how they could get so angry and fed up with kids who were disgusting and vile and how he never felt that…... he never felt anything at all .Now he was in the 5th grade he had to repeat the 4th grade due to staggeringly low grades and his failed attempts at homework he never seemed to have remembered. Things were getting hard to remember, so hard to remember what the teacher had said in the classroom that seemed to fade away after he was picked up by his mom and the sheer silence of the drive home and his mothers sneaking looks into the mirror with furrowed eyebrows at her son who never told her how his day went.

In school it was just so easy just to drift off in the land of dark swirls and dark worlds filled with make believe that he couldn't separate from the real world that never seemed to go away and darkness he felt comfort in his head till he heard nothing but the disgusting laugh of a teacher who had looked as if she wanted to deck him in the face ( he imagined about 3 different scenarios of how that actually could have occured, he held back a giggle and a sly smirk) as she snapped her wrinkled hands in his face “earth to brendon” he heard the aged feminine voice laced with anger repeat twice but he had failed to tune into the first reminder he was too dissociated to notice, he came too but didn't understand her reasonings of not just leaving him alone and let him rot and break free and he soon heard the fits of laughter coming from children he knew he was too weak to stop.

he wanted to do terrible things to everyone in that very room including himself, a dark desire he couldn't contain from his mind but he never followed through with these type of thoughts. he could never seemed control them he thought of them like messages being sent from an unknown source in the back of his head that had an invisible connection to someone he could see but nobody else could he dared himself if he could just pull at the cord in his head he wouldn't have those those thoughts, the figure never showed up in the same form it could be the shadows of dirty rain water coming from outside showing like a projection on the dingy beat up wall rising above him to claim a mental dominance , or the rotten stain of mold on the bathroom floor that now seemed to have a charming glow yet secretive smile or the bag of dirty clothes that sat high up on its rounded edges now smiled at him and watched him threw the night .

now it was the 7th grade and things had went to shit,it was already shit but it had gotten no better, fits of depression had left him wanting to call a hitman on himself and letting himself be cut open so all the organs in his body to be shot out of him or rip his jaw and everything behind it out of his body but he was too fatigued to think about it anymore his brain seemed to have stopped working back in the 6th grade, he could never think clearly a heavy fog on his brain he could never do much for himself he found the most simple of things he couldn't do, he couldn't pay attention, he felt dizzy at random times becoming feverish and not thinking about why because he couldn't think he thought process lessen and lessened with every passing day until all there were was thoughts of gore and death,sadness and the never ending thought of killing anyone or anything that had managed to make him want death even more.

he just continued to fade in and out of reality staring into the wall for to long or unknowingly staring at the couple of people who he thought was calling him pathetic and worthless with the contradictory voice telling him he's so much better than the disgusting people he saw and that they didn't deserve to smile they don't deserve happiness even though they’d never even spoken a word to him, they were never mean to him. he started pinching,stabbing,pulling at his hair,clawing at himself hard trying to see if he could care that he'd just hurt himself he continued to hurt himself hoping somewhere in the back of his mind he start to feel things, to show him he's real everyone sees him, but his inner self knew what he was doing he wasn't just trying to see if he was a real person he was punishing himself because he couldn't do what the rest of the real kids could do he couldnt plop himeself in a hard metal chair and take a test without thinking about what a disgusting person he was, without hearing them say he wasn't shit that his brain is mush that he couldn't understand the easy directions how he could get so angry and mad without hesitation how he could imagine killing his parents im cold blood… he stomped on his own foot,why is he thinking about this why is he thinking about this why, they creeped back up on him showing him images of his brother and sisters dead and gutted his parents choking on blood and vomit pale and dying, he hated himself for thinking these things,but if it was possible for him to be completely honest with himself he didn't care if they had died or not he just didn't have the ability to care.

He couldn't look people in the face without seeing these images of grewling faces pushed together in piles of pink and red flesh crawling into each others organs which looked rotten and distorted, why was he seeing this things these disgusting things these things… he wouldn't admit to himself that everytime he looked in the mirror he tried not to vomit he tried to hard, he bashed in the mirror bloodlying his hand, his hiss echoing in the empty bathroom he couldn't go to the nurse he couldn't look her in the eye and see her like that, besides he was on the first floor and he was too weak to go all the way to the fourth floor he knew he would pass out, he felt something pooling in his stomach it was anxiety he felt the cramping in his stomach and the salivating in his dry mouth, he vomited into the sink, he hasn't eaten anything in about 3 weeks so the pain of dry heaving for almost half in hour into the sink made him dizzy and ultimately pass out. he had now awoken to bright lights that made him nauseous and whimper, he was in the hospital again. he tried so hard not look the nurses and doctors in the eye and seeing horrific images in his mind of them dead, rotten maggot filled and bloody be he regained his ability to see the normally after a while.

“Brendon honey…” his mommy's voice was there “mommy...hi mommy” he said in a broken whisper. She had realized he never calls her mommy unless something's wrong he wasn't aware that he was, he turned to the right finding an iv carefully placed into in scarily pale arm “honey...they found you in the bathroom your hand was cut up...you where passed out what...t?” she silenced herself for a moment seconds later starting up again. “They found you in the bathroom..the mirror was broken and your hand was cut pretty deep and passed out” he mouth trembled a bit, she moved his sweaty bangs out of his forehead, he felt wetness on his skin his own uniform shirt clinging to his skin he was sweating.

He didn't feel real he didn't respond properly to what she had said he only looked away.. And said “dizzy….everything hurts…” he was so surprised he felt something but if feeling was like this he didn't want it. “I d..don't wanna feel like this..can you make it stop mommy please?!” Nani was absolutely terrified she'd never been so scared for her little boy, “its gonna be okay,sweetie...i swear..to god i swear…” in this moment if she was honest she didn't believe there was a god, no god would do this to her son, she turned around after hearing the door and hard footsteps.

“Hello ms. Urie im dr. Yakima, i will be assisting and diagnosing your son” she nodded softly wanting her son to be okay. “Hey son,open your eyes for me,i'm here to help” brendon heard a much more distorted version of what the doctor had said than nani did, but then again he was fading in and out. He handed her pills and said firmly “these are anti-nausea and pain killers i'm gonna give these to him and he will feel much much better i promise..” He was right it with his cocked up eyebrow and charming smile that sparkled with calmness and reassurance that worked its way into nani. the medication  worked but not instantly. “Sit up honey..” She said softly, he followed what she said slowly with a wrecked groan and intense muscle pain however there was no rush.

#brendon urie #panic! at the disco #patd #*****mine #brendon urie imagine

[stripesquadsideblog]

Naruto talk: Deidara’s family

Ok so ive spent ALLLLLL DAY looking for this one post that set all this off but i CANNOT FIND IT ANYWHERE.

Tl:dr of the post was OP thought Deidaras last name was Namikazi and i am 10000% on board but it also made me think like, how did he wind up in iwa??? There was also another post about the akatsuki and how deidara just wanted to be appreciated for his damn art but  no one in iwa cared but i cant find that either????

So.SO

Headcanon time

Deidara is a lil war orphan. (like 99%of the akatsuki are orphans???)

One of his parents is an explosion release user from Kiri and one is from konohas Namikazi clan

Everyone in the Namikazi clan has blond hair and big blue eyes/ Nordic features which are all really rare among ninja in the land of fire.

Namikazi’s also have a propensity for Wind style chakra. Deidara has this too but was only ever trained to use his Explosion release.

Im not sure if his parents are both ninja but i think whoever had explosion release was at least Chunin .

Parent A with explosion release was declared a missing nin and killed while they and deidara were travelling forcing the remaining parent B to flee .

Unfortunately second parent B was killed at the start of the 3rd ninja war because it was discovered that they were a konoha nin living in Iwa leaving bby deidara wandering the streets alone.

At this stage he's like 3-5 years old .

He has no idea his last name is Namikazi. He knows his parents died but he didn’t actually watch them die ( unlike konan and nagato for example) so it was more like they just went away rather than being really traumatizing. Onoki , kurotsuchi and Kitsuchi are the only family he knows.

honestly doesnt really remember his parents at all. 

While out surveying the damage Onoki and Kitsuchi find baby deidei wandering around in rubble possibly near dead parent B waiting for them to wake up.

Onoki and kitsuchi contemplated leaving deidara to the mercy of the war but Kitsuchi had just had Kurotsuchi and couldn’t stand to hear a little kid cry.

Kitsuchi brings deidara home like a stray puppy while his wife is giving him “theres a war on how we going to feed another child” face.

Deidara spends a lot of time with Onoki while Kitsuchi and his wife are out at war.

Kurotsuchi is like 2-4 and is happy to have a new sibling with pretty doll hair that she can totally mess up. This is why she calls him Big Brother Deidara.

His birthday isnt actually May 5th, thats just the day Kitsuchi found him.

Even though he's been adopted and thats a lot better than being completely orphaned and left on the streets like the ame trio things still aren’t great for deidara.

His new family are all Iwa born and bred. Iwa is a VERY militaristic place,just look at their shinobi’s attitude. Kurotsuchi is a daddies girl so she gets things better than him, gets away with a lot more than he does.

For Deidara his life is run like hes constantly at military boot camp.

Even from a young age deidara showed more intrest in art than fighting . this has always been a point of contention between him and Onoki/Kitsuchi. They frequently threw out or ruined deidaras art projects in an attempt to get him to serve the village more.

Deidara and Kurotsuchi were always the top of their class in Iwa Academy. Kitsuchi is secretly very proud of his powerful kekkai genkai children but he’d never tell them.

No matter what deidara did in ninjutsu he always tried to make it artistic

Baby deidara always had trouble controlling his explosion release ( because his wind chakra made things a little....volatile?) he’d blow things up by sneezing or smacking his hand down on something too fast.

When it was discovered deidara had explosion release he was instantly taken up by Onoki as his student because Iwa was one of the few nations who still held up Kekkai Genkai users as the best weapons of war the ninja world had to offer. Deidara wasn’t happy about this but he wasn’t given any say.

It was Kurotsuchis mom who suggested he mould his chakra into clay since it was a very stable material.

She didn’t discourage his artistic persuits like her husband but because iwa is so focused on war and fighting she couldn’t really encourage him either knowing he’d have to give it up at some point.

Literally no one in Iwa cares about art and if they do they tend to keep it to themselves

I cant help but feel if deidara had gotten praise from one person for his art and not being a weapon he wouldn’t have gone postal.

Now he's grown up he’s 99% of his own praise.

If someone had gotten to him before he got all egotistical and given him some praise he would latch onto them like a lamprey eel.

Deidara was only like 14 when he left the village. he’d had enough of everyone either ignoring him and his art or treating him like a Tool .

Kurotsuchi was about 12 and didnt really understand why he left ( even to this day) she asked kitsuchi a few times but he would usually just lie or paint deidara in a bad light so as to put kurotsuchi against the idea of looking for him/ against deidara himself.

I have SO many feels about Deidara. i only ment for this to be like 4 bullet points but woops.

anyway if anyone knows what post i was talking about at the top hmu so i can reblog and tag it and so on.

#Deidara #deidara namikazi #kurostuchi #kitsuchi #onoki #iwa #headcanons #deidara headcanons #naruto talk #naruto #iwagakure #caxy had a thought

[imagine-mania]

SPIDER-MAN 2 w/Tom Holland and YOU! (Part IV)

First things first! Thanks for the support. I’m happy about any DMs, no matter how unrelated or weird those are, I appreciate feedback and simply everyone showing some love. You can subscribe to my imagines by DMing me. I’ll tag you so you won’t miss an update! Enjoy this new part of the story.

TWO WEEKS LATER It’s all going well. I almost got ill a few days after the first dinner with Tom, but they gave me some vitamins so I’m feeling fine now. With more time passing, Tom and I sat together at every meal (with everyone looking at us as if they had always known we would do that some day). It makes me happy hearing his soft voice. Tom also told me more about Spider-Man 3, since he already told me that I might get the chance to play the role again: “You know they won’t tell me a lot until they really have to, but they actually told me that the actress who’d be casted for the Spider-Man 2 main cast was also considered to be in the third part of Spider-Man. I guess your role is really important then. I haven’t quite figured out why…” Me neither. I have played a lot of scenes at school, sitting somewhere near Peter Parker and I got rescued twice so far, but other than that I didn’t have that much to do. I guess we’ll all find out about the deeper meaning of my character closer to the end of filming. Tom also brought Harrison on set a couple of times and it turns out he’s a really funny guy always up for a new adventure. Since the last few days we’re spending almost every minute of our free time together, sometimes with Harrison, Jacob and Zendaya and sometimes just the two of us. It almost feels like we’ve started dating, but we haven’t yet. For now it’s simply great enjoying the company of the other, talking about god-knows-what and having a good time. Today marks a special day though. So far I haven’t been to any interviews, because everyone tries to keep as much of me as a surprise for the audience as possible, but after a few Instagram stories and posts everyone was already writing conspiracy theories about who I might be and what my role is, so this interview is the first one I’ll be giving, together with Tom. I’m REALLY excited, because it’s like the first interview on such a huge scale ever and that adds to the pressure. “Come on. You’ll do fine. Be true to who you are and it’ll be great!”, says Tom to encourage me. Of course I’m blushing again. My worst fear is that people will see my totally obvious crush on Tom and have it on video but there’s no turning back now… The interviewer greets us and shows us where we should sit down, where the cameras are and whatsoever. After a good five minutes everything was ready. “So, here we are on set of the new Spider-Man movie. Today I have two very special guests to be interviewed. Tom Holland, who is playing the main character Peter Parker, better known as Spider-Man again and right next to him is (Y/N), who is celebrating her movie debut with this very production. Now tell me, how is it being back on set Tom? And for you, (Y/N), how is it on set for the first time?” Tom answers first about how he loves seeing everyone again and that everything’s like “flowers and daisies” here, having the team back together and that he likes the great atmosphere here.

Then all looks are switching to me. “I’m really happy being here. It’s an honour to work with so many great people together, in front and behind the camera. I’m glad I got this opportunity, especially in such a big film like this is. I really enjoy it.” It’s not as hard as I thought it’d be. The interviewer asks Tom a few more questions before he comes back to me again: “And this is my last question for today, but probably the most important one! Who are you playing and what role do you play in connection with Peter Parker or Spider-Man? I know you can’t give away too much, but just a little bit, a tiny little bit.” Shit. I know I’m not allowed to say anything really, not even the name of the character. Improvising, that’s what I have to do now. “Uhm, I’m playing a girl that moves to Queens the next school year after the last film. I actually don’t know much more than that, because I don’t know the end of my script yet, but I’m really excited already!” “That’s not much to offer. What is she called? Her hobbies or specialities? Fun facts?” “Sorry, but I can’t tell you the name of my character because it would drive fans crazy and everyone would build up their expectations. I wouldn’t want anyone to be disappointed because it’s not the person you thought it would be. It’s better not to know, so your expectations aren’t too high and you’ll have a surprise after all.” After this interview I feel tired. So many questions and you always have to keep in mind not to tell anything other than something that is already known. "You did an incredible job, (Y/N)! I couldn't have done it better", says Tom complimenting me. "Oh please, don't let me look better than I am... It was exciting but also exhausting." And with those words you both go back to the hall you're currently shooting in. Jon Watts waits for us already “Good job back there, both of you! Now this might come as a bit of a surprise to you, (Y/N), since you only signed a contract for this movie, but we would like to have you in the next Spider-Man movie too. Your acting skills are perfect for this role and you are enthusiastic, positive and capable of working under a lot of pressure while adding to our team. This might be a bit much for you right now, but just consider it. The producers and I want to sit down with you and talk about it more closely in a few days. You can make a decision and maybe some calls to your agent in the meanwhile. Nooow, let’s continue shooting. (Y/N), you’re ready for today and tomorrow you’re having a day off. Tom, you’re coming with me please...” Wow, just wow. “Thanks, for everything.” That’s all I can get out. I’m filled with joy and can’t even put it into words, it’s unbelievable. Tom was right! I mean of course I hoped that he was right all the time, but I actually never really wanted to think about it too much, because it would only be disappointing when I wouldn’t be playing again after all. But I will. I get home quickly so I can first tell my family before calling my agent who is of course happy as hell - it’s not every day you get offered a role like this so easily again. After a few hours Jacob and Harrison are visiting me in my flat to hang out. Later Tom and Zendaya join, completely exhausted after shooting. “So what do you want to do now? Play games or something?” you say after a while. Harrison is coming up with an idea immediately: “What about a round of Truth or Dare?”

Thanks for reading this part of the story! Now since the next imagine will be the 5th imagine of the story I’d love to give you all the opportunity to send me things you’d like to imagine for the Truth or Dare, it can be questions the characters need to answer or dares, creative or funny, doesn’t matter. You should be part of this writing process and style the story as YOU want it to continue! ~K.

SUBSCRIPTIONS

@problemforfuturetech

#spiderman #imagine #imagine-mania #tom holland #tom holland x reader #mcu #marvel #peter parker

[horror-sc0pe]

People are the way they are for a reason. I'm paranoid, anxious, insecure, and lonely. There hasnt been a lot of times that anyone made me feel secure and safe with myself or them.

It wasnt fun spending 2nd - 6th grade hearing how big my teeth were and how weird I was for liking anime, and that wouldn't have been too bad if it didn't adapt into something worse.

It wasnt fun spending 7th - 12th grade upgrading the teasing to harassment. " You look like a horse" "You're fake and your boyfriend is using you" "Whats wrong with your face" "You look like a holocaust victim"

Its not fun when your first boyfriend is cheating on you, multiple times with multiple people, but you're hearing it from his brothers friends who are being dicks just to fuck things up, or hearing it on formspring where everyone else was  already spewing negative things. Its not fun when someone finally steps up and sends you screenshots of proof and you just wasted a year thinking it was his brothers friends, when you find out after things are true. And it wasnt fun having his mom call me and my mom sluts or rude bc we treated him better than she did and she was jealous. It wasnt fun when she only allowed him to see me outside of school, once or twice a month and in that time all he did was try to touch me and force things on me after I said no and wasnt ready.

Its not fun when the week you and your second boyfriend get together, hes kicked out of his house to go live in maryland and in that month 1/2 time, you only see him for a week before he changes his tumblr name to the name of another girl and breaks up with you after.

Its not fun when your 3rd boyfriend doesnt let you break up with them because you were ambushed by him right after you got rejected and made you feel wanted when you previously didnt, then realize the mistake and try to be truthful, but he wont let you. Then starts taking his anger out on you by saying everything you like is dumb and treats you like a dog. Literally. And when he finally lets the break up happen, stalks you for the next year, contacting your friends, or have strangers message you, shows up in public places, and letters begging for you back, and that theres nothing left to live for. It definitely didnt make you feel guilty and anxious because you did make a mistake, but you also tried to end it in the beginning.

Its not fun when your 4th boyfriend actually gets contacted the second your relationship status goes up with a threat from the 3rd boyfriend saying that he's gonna get you back. Its not fun when your 4th boyfriend tells you he has cancer, he's adopted, and he's been sexually abused. Will text you in the middle of the night saying he took a bunch of pills because he was trying to kill himself. Sexually abuse you. Tell his friends that you tell him to starve himself (when it never happened), attacked you online, and lets his friends do the same. Its not fun when he says hes going to the hospital for surgery the exact day you asked him to hang out and a half assed aplogy months later.

Its not fun when your 5th boyfriend is actually the best you've had, but his (ex) best friend spends a year giving him ultimatums, writing on twitter that you're in love with someone else, you killed his cat, you're only with him for money, calling your store asking for you, you can overdose on all the pills you're taking for your "fake" anxiety, you're  a cunt and she knows where you live. Its not fun when you feel like you're the reason he's having a hard time bc he's put in the situation too and neither of you can do anything about it. When all you did was exist and its hard to enjoy a relationship when its being ripped apart (even though lies) online, constantly.

Its not fun losing all your friends in a couple of months. Getting your face put on a horses. Told that you're gonna be recorded running with retarded horse music in the background. Having someone you care about attempt suicide. Being 'neighed' at in the mall or at school. Even saying you have anxiety and others telling you "yeah well I deal with this, this and this and have anxiety but I can do it, you're being immature" doesn't make anything feel good. Ive already written so much and its amazing how much more is left that I didnt say. Yikes.

I repeat this so many times. I keep saying it over and over. Ive told a lot of people. But it's never satisfying. I never feel heard enough. That's just another me problem. Im on medications now, I have friends now, I'm older now, and yet I have such a hard time moving forward. When I take a step in the right direction, I have a panic attack and feel even worse about myself. I tried going to school for cosmetology, 2 months in and I found myself in the bathroom crying, holding my knees and texting my mom to get me out of there. Same with a job. And every time I break down, I just stay there bc whenever I take a step, its gonna go backwards again. I'm not an adult. I'm barely a person. Why do I constantly feel like my experiences need to be heard. No one gives a fuck they all have their own problems. Its not anything new, this already happened, people have it worse and raise so much higher than I can. Even hanging out with friends my nervous system feels overwhelmed after a couple of hours. OH WAIT I KNOW IVE SAID THAT IN OTHER POSTS TOO. Well aren't I just a special snowflake. Best part is I don't even know how to build a wall around myself to keep my emotions protected till someone breaks it down. I really dont know how to do it. Life's a mess. Idk how people get places successfully. 

#rant

[rheasunshine]

Greetings fellow travelers,

I hope that wherever you’re reading this from, you are safe.

I haven’t been safe in awhile.

Yes, I have a roof over my head. (A new, expensive one at that; first year home-ownership can be stressful).

Yes, I have food and water.  (Well, sometimes there’s food – usually the fridge is empty-ish and even when it’s not, I’m not really into eating it.)  This fact alone makes me safer than millions and millions of people.

I am – generally speaking – not in danger.

Except last week.  Last week,  I was in a lot of danger.  And it wasn’t the first time.

It comes as no surprise to anyone following my story that as a “Professional Patient” I spend most of my days balancing doctors appointments and symptom-tracking and medications. To be honest (and you should always be honest, right Justin?), I’ve been doing a truly shitty job managing my illnesses.  It starts simply enough – one bad day.  That bad day leads to two, and by then I’ve decided nothing I could do matters and I let go of the controls.  Sounds healthy, right?

So a couple of weeks ago, as I was juggling my annual OBGYN visit, IUD discussions, a urology referral, a visit to UNC to discuss my constant nausea and further testing, a mammogram, vision testing for new glasses and contacts (and WAY more money than we have), my therapy visits and then 3 or 4 “normal” appointments, I kind of lost my mind.

The thing is, it wasn’t even beyond the scope of normal; that’s a pretty average week in my life.  Where things started to go sideways was in the creeping, slinking, insidious feeling that an MS relapse – or something worse – was coming on.  I’ve described this enough times that I feel we are all comfortable with what this looks like, so I’ll just summarize by saying that at this point in the story I was no longer in control of my motions, thoughts, words or feelings.

When Thommy and I went on our annual wedding anniversary trip in early October, we spent most of our time playing the previously referred to “ER or nah??” game.  I didn’t want to go to an ER out of state (we were in Tennessee) so we just assumed the worst was yet to come and tried to enjoy what we could of the Smokey Mountains.  BUT, because my brain wasn’t working properly, I forgot to pack both my cane AND my handicap placard, so we weren’t able to do much sightseeing or exploring.  In fact, we barely left the condo.  Since we’ve been married for 9 years, and together for 13, we don’t need a lot of special attractions to enjoy a trip; just being in each others’ presence is special enough.

At the Tennessee Welcome Center

So let’s catch up: we got home, the symptoms got way worse, and on Friday, October 27th, I went again to see my primary care doctor.  He took an X-Ray of my neck first to see if that could explain some of the symptoms.  Luckily, it did a little – I now have 3 herniated discs and something wrong with the curvature of my spine – and had we not had more pressing issues he said we would be discussing physical therapy, cortisone shots and possibly surgery – but since I couldn’t feel my leg or finish a complete sentence, we had bigger problems.

  He sent me over to the hospital as a direct admit. He assured me they would give me sedatives before the MRI of my brain, thoracic and cervical spine (a 2 hour procedure), but the hospital was experiencing a severe shortage of IV Valium so they gave me Ativan instead, and it did nothing, except possibly make me MORE agitated.  Over the course of my stay they tried 7 IVs.  2 blew.  One nurse cried and I did everything I could to convince her it was me, not her.

It is now Sunday, November 5th and it hurts just to type this.  But what I want to say is important; I was diagnosed as having another MS flare.

After 3 MS medications THIS YEAR ALONE.

After the hell of Ocrevus JUST TWO MONTHS AGO.

The reason MS patients put up with all the bullshit is to STAY OUT of relapses.  I tortured myself all year just to end up here anyway.  And that’s JUST the MS – never mind everything else in my body hatching plans against me.

So.  They prescribe 3 days of IV steroids (WHY, GOD, WHY?), fluids and pain management. Fine. I’m pissed but I can do this.  What’s 3 more days in the hospital?  I am safe.

Except.

Except…

I can’t do it.  I am not safe.

A psychiatrist comes to talk to me on the day of discharge.  “Are you safe at home?”

(Mental checklist: roof, food, check.)

“Yes.”

“OK,” she says, “do you have thoughts of hurting yourself or others?”

Let’s do the easy one first.  Do I want to hurt others? Like this guy – this guy here who SLEPT IN A CHAIR FOR 3 DAYS AND BARELY LEFT MY SIDE AND DECKED OUT OUR ROOM IN PENN STATE STUFF FOR THE GAME DESPITE THE FACT THAT I KEEP YELLING AT HIM AND CRY INCOHERENTLY??  No.  No, I do not want to hurt him.

(Well, I didn’t.  But now that I’m at home, in pain, miserable and riding steroid rage, ummmm…..)

But do I want to hurt myself?

Yes.  I want to find a way to trump the pain I’m in every day, I want to be the one doing the hurting, actively, so I’m no longer passively being injured, I want it to be quiet, I want it to stop, I want it to end.  Please.  Make it all stop.

“Would you allow yourself to be voluntarily committed to our behavior health unit?”

What’s left to hide from? What’s left to be scared of? I’ve seen the worst, I’ve felt the worst, I’ve been in the dark for a long time.

What it feels like she’s asking is, “Do you want to save what’s left of you?”

“Yes.”

And that’s where another story starts and ends.  The only other time I’ve been hospitalized for mental health issues since Renfrew, and this time it was only 3 days because on the chaotic and teary night of admission I signed my 72 hour release form. (They really should make you wait until morning to do that, but what do I know…)

So basically I asked to leave before I had even fully been processed.

But that’s OK because 3 days in a psych unit is a powerful time.  Every single person you meet changes you forever.  And I want to do justice to that story so we’ll save it for another day.

But what I want you to know now is that on Monday, November 6th, I will start a 6 week intensive partial hospitalization; that means from 9am to 1pm I’ll be in intensive therapy, both group and individual and I’ll meet each week with a psychiatric nurse to continue to adjust my medications and with a psychiatrist to keep this journey moving.  In addition, I can still see my normal therapist once a week, who I’ve been seeing for two years, and who has been remarkable.

There are three other things I want you to know, and they are so important to me, that I’m asking you to really hear the words in your head – and I’m asking you to remember.

1.) I would be dead right now if it wasn’t for Thommy, my mom, a handful of the best friends I actually don’t deserve, and a tribe of “Rhea Team” warriors who pray for me and send me their positive energy and their love and their notes and their gifts and who keep showing up despite the tedious repetition of my illnesses and shortcomings.  I know that I am blessed.  I do not take it for granted.  Please keep reminding me of the good things – please keep your words of love and light coming; it’s my way out of the darkness.

2.) You need to vote better.  Sorry if that’s whiplash but it’s true.  You and me both.  I am getting the most amazing, thorough and continued treatment because of insurance.  There was a time I didn’t have that.  And there were people I met in the hospital who were released before they were stable because of insurance. Cuts to mental health services, Medicare, Medicaid, etc, literally, literally, literally KILL PEOPLE.  I might be one of them. Vote in every election you can for leaders who will protect those services.  I can’t believe this country works that way but here we are.

3.) Mental health stigma needs to end.  And it can start with you.  Stop using the word “crazy” a dozen times a day when it’s not necessary.  That’s the easy one – challenge yourself today and see what happens.  Don’t use diagnoses as adjectives.  OCD, bipolar, schizophrenia, manic/mania, depressed, anorexic/bulimic, PTSD, cutting/cutters/self-harmers … all those things are real life.  They can be nightmares that people may never wake up from.  Some of us will get help and regulate it but we ALL need to stop carrying around the shame of it.  It is not a punchline to your shitty joke.  If someone trusts you enough to share their story with you: listen without judgement.  You don’t have to fix them.  You don’t have to feel their pain to help them through it.  You can hold space with love and respect and allow them to process their emotions freely.  Not everyone is ready to accept help  – it is not your job to lecture them. Memorize the number to the suicide hotline [phone]) so that you can provide a resource to someone is crisis. (Obviously, if it’s an emergency, call 911).  But from experience, I can say that I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve had a meltdown on the phone with someone while I told them I couldn’t make it one more day – and the act of simply being heard has kept me here one more day.

One more day.

That’s what’s left.

Or, like we talked about in the hospital, one more minute.  It’s 7:31am right now.  Can I make it until 7:32am? What can bridge those 60 seconds? Breathing? Medication? A phone call?

I know I said I needed you to know 3 things, but I lied, there’s one more:

I am not ashamed.  As someone with complex mental illnesses AND complex physical illnesses, stuffing that all inside and hiding it from the world is what usually gets me into the darkest recesses of my mind and keeps me buried.  As someone with mental illness, I *DO* feel guilty, all the time, for hundreds of things, real and imaginary; but, what I don’t feel guilty about, is sharing this with you.  There is a level of self-loathing I experience that I didn’t even have words for until I was on the psych unit, but my head will not hang one inch lower after posting this and sharing it.  I hope if you read this and you want to talk, you reach out.  I hope if you read this, and you are so inclined, you share it with your circle because there might be someone who needs to read it and know help is out there and they don’t have to feel alone or ashamed.

I’m redefining myself with the pieces of what’s left; and with each new illness and test and hospitalization and med change, etc., I do feel like I lose some of the person I wanted to be.  Or at least the person I thought I was.  But there is so much power in realizing you can create someone new.  And know this: if you’ve had to do this (I mean, REALLY, do this): you are a fucking superhero.  Suit up.  Here’s your cape…

xoxo

Rhea

What’s Left. Greetings fellow travelers, I hope that wherever you're reading this from, you are safe. I haven't been safe in awhile.