#further research needs to be gathered on the others as I've still got to go through Detective L

[peridot-tears]

I think a lot about how US-centrism is a really big thing, and something we USians commit whether we are conscious of it or not -- because, quite frankly, no matter how much we proclaim to dislike our country or want it to change, or straight up just want to leave it behind, it's already been deeply intertwined into our personalities.

But there's also that other factor where when it comes to fandom, we end up writing AUs set in the USA, because, well...that's still our home? That's what we're familiar with? So of course I want to play around and reimagine WangXian as diaspora Chinese growing up in New York, just like me. I think it'd be really funny to reimagine Arno as an exchange student who has to deal with NYU kids out here (I pity the man, NYU is an elitist nightmare). And if Tumblr is a US-based site, where most of us end up gathering, that's just math, right? There are going to be a lot of USians here writing about our experiences in this country, because they're the things that immediately affect us the most.

I don't think it's inherently bad to want to reimagine characters in the world we personally live in, but we do have to ask ourselves some hard questions about why we want to take these characters and put them in a setting that we are comfortable with. Would we appreciate them all the same if they were in a setting unfamiliar to us?

And if we were on a non-American site doing the same thing, and the people on that site got mad at us, how would we react? We have to be honest with ourselves.

Also, HUGE disclaimer:

This is not permission to whitewash characters.

If you're writing an AU with characters of non-American origin, do your research on their cultural norms.

Also, the USA is the "melting pot" or whatever the fuck you wanna call it, right. So is this character going to be an immigrant, a tourist, a tenth-generation American, or a second-generation American from another country's diaspora?

*Or are they Indigenous? In which case, what nation are they from, did they grow up on the rez, elsewhere, and what relationship do they have with their family and identity?

We should still think outside of our country. Realizing and acknowledging that we are raised to be ignorant of the world, and that our country holds a cultural Monopoly (i.e. our fucking media and entertainment are EVERYWHERE, and my roommate from Vietnam knows iCarly as well as I do, and I know someone from Nigeria who grew up on Johnny Bravo, just to name a few examples) are only the first step. We need to deprogram and see the rest of the world as a place that exists outside of us while still being affected by just how sprawling our influence is.

My personal experience:

I'm an immigrants' kid who grew up among other immigrants' kids in New York (note, I say "immigrants' kid," meaning I am explicitly not saying we immigrated, only that our parents did. People assume I came here just because I'm not white, which is some racist bullshit).

I have lived on other continents.

MDZS is easy for me because it's my culture. I've written them as diaspora Gen Z kids, Chinese people who grew up in mainland cities I'm familiar with, and in the canon Ye Olde China (Tang-dynasty-ish, but also a Ming-dynasty AU) setting.

I write French Frye in modern-day Paris and London very easily because as a USian, we're taught that "world history" is just "Western and Central European history." We're a Eurocentric society. Also, I've been in those cities and know people from there.

I struggle with writing Ratohnhaké:ton even though he is literally Indigenous to the land I grew up on (Kanien'kéha:ka were from upstate New York, just a day's drive from me, before colonization forced them to move further north). As a USian, that means I was taught the colonizers' attitude towards Indigenous folks, and despite all my research and talks with Indigenous folks to learn to be better, I will eventually trip up and accidentally say something racist or culturally offensive.

This isn't going to stop me from writing fanfic about him, but I'm gonna do my due diligence and consider the circumstances he would be in in a modern AU.

Yes, I want to write a modern-day AU where he goes to China and trains with Shao Jun, because I'm Chinese and I think that would be neat.

When I read modern AU MDZS fanfiction, I can tell who's not Chinese when I read about WangXian living in a house in China. I cannot emphasize how different the apartment-to-house ratio in most major Chinese cities is from the USA. I don't find it offensive, it's just a really strong tell.

If you're writing an AU set in NYC and there isn't a single "yerrrr" in it, you've already outed yourself (this is a joke).

[maxfaiden]

Present-day Toria, a botanist and enthusiastic horticulturalist who is making up for past mistakes, slowly repairing relationships, and spearheading a campaign against the idea that less is more.

Present-day Iggy, a World History teacher and researcher who loves kids and is still trying to re-imagine his future after adjusting to living with infertility.

These two are my main save's resident collectors (just look at her name, she can't help it.). I've built and rebuilt their home several times over to accommodate their collections and such. They're also my go-to for testing story-based gameplay like, Jungle Adventure, Batuu, etc.

Keep going for a little story from when I was still doing organic gameplay.

Note: Most the characterizations are still true, but this is not a Keystone story line.

I love these two, they really are perfect for each other. Yes, Toria is lighter; this is from before I finalized her character design. That said...

They were exploring Sulani when Iggy was struck by lightning. Toria mourned after she lost her heart, and, for a while, she was comforted by his lingering presence, but one day she woke up and said, "Eff . That."

[One last pic of Ghosband & Wife]

They talked it over and agreed that a corporeal Iggy was the best Iggy. So, he got to researching and stumbled across a book called The End is Just the Beginning.

He handed the book off to Toria who reviewed all the bookmarked pages. After further discussion, they decided that the ambrosia torte, time consuming as it was, would be the best option.

So, Toria rummaged through her arsenal, occasionally left for far flung places, and happily tended her gardens until she had all they needed to whip up the key to their future.

She gathered her haul and headed over to her brother's house. Their relationship hadn't been fully restored yet, so it was kind of a big ask, but the only other person she knew that had the skills suited to the task was Quela, and their relationship was in even worse shape.

Jason agreed and promise to deliver it to them the next day.

After the torte was delivered, they took a selfie to commemorate their first and hopefully final encounter with the occult, and then sat at the kitchen table...

When they were both fully flesh and blood once more, they returned to Sulani.

Toria wanted to shake her fist at the gods, but thought better of it.

The dissolution of their marriage upon Iggy's death was always in the back of Toria's mind, but it kind of took a backseat to everything else.

Which is why she was surprised when Iggy proposed to her in Sulani.

You better believe she said, "Yesssss!"

Before they left the island, for possibly the last time, they took one for the road.

See you in Keystone!

[begrudginglytumbling]

If I had turned this into a drinking game I’d be very, very drunk by now, and I’ve still got twenty episodes to go.

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Tell us more about the "If you want… me" WIP

(Thank you for sending this ask in I love you with my entire soul, Lace)

Pigsy adopts Mk.

That's it. That's the fic.

Just a thing about Pigsy slowly realizing just how much he cares about the kid (which he's been in denial about for a while now.) There's a moment in which Mk gets sick and is a little delirious and is practically crying and begging Pigsy not to leave him because abandonment issues go brrrrrrr, and it hits Pigsy that even after everything Mk still fears he might drop him somewhere and, well, abandon him, so he decides to do something that scares him to make sure the kid knows he's loved because action speak louder than words, right? And he's never been real good at talking anyways. Mk's worth it. When Mk calls him dad as he's falling asleep that pretty much solidifies his commitment.

So he starts researching and filing out adoption papers.

Tang gets a little concerned because Pigsy's practically running himself ragged between running the shop, dealing with bills, and filling out adoption papers, and confronts him about it which is a bit of a mess for a sec cause Pigsy hasn't actually told anybody what he's doing lol skdmfa;oghe It turns out fine though and Tang finds out and is just absolutely ecstatic for him. (Freenoodle in this AU but they're both kinda still in denial about it lol)

It's been in the works for... a long time now actually lol, pretty quick after I finished my first fic for the fandom Family is What You Make it. But I've never quite been able to get it moving the way I want it. Might have to re-start it sometime, but I do eventually want to write it because this is something I've wanted to write since I got into this fandom lol skldmf;aghoae

Anyway, without further ado, here's a (rather large) snippet! <3

3:43am.

He'd need to open the shop in a few hours. He didn’t really want to leave the kid alone though. He could probably get Tang to come watch him, but he most likely wasn’t awake yet, and he didn’t want to accidentally wake him up. He could have made the call downstairs, but didn’t really feel like moving somehow.

It had been a while and his fever didn’t show any signs of breaking. Pigsy was thinking that maybe he should take him to the hospital, or at least get him some sort of medicine. There wasn’t any in the noodle shop, and he made a mental note to stock up on another first aid kit with some essentials in there somewhere so the kid would have easy access to it in the future. He had one down in the kitchen in case of cuts and other injuries, but medicine was another story altogether.

Pigsy glanced at Mk, who was still asleep, and looking no closer to getting any better. He stood up, reaching for his jacket, which he’d taken off sometime in the night or early morning, pulling it on, his hand slipping into his pocket to check for his phone and keys out of habit, the metal clinking together as his fingers touched them.

He turned away, about to head for the door when a weak tug at his sleeve stopped him and he started slightly, head snapping to see Mk, still curled up clinging to his sleeve.

“Kid?” he said, questioningly, his brow furrowing.

“Don’t leave,” he whispered, his grip tightening a little, but still weak.

Pigsy blinked.

“I’m sorry,” Mk mumbled, and to Pigsy’s alarm he saw tears gathering in his eyes. “Please don’t leave.” He hiccuped, curling up a little tighter. He was still shivering, which suddenly looked a lot more like trembling.

“Kid…” Pigsy said, his concern growing. He still didn’t look quite there, he wasn’t even sure he realized he was awake.

“Please, I’ll--I’ll be better,” Mk hiccuped, shaking even as he clung to his sleeve. “I promise, I’ll be better, please don’t leave. Please. I’m sorry. Please keep me.” He was crying in earnest now, and Pigsy just… stared at him, his fractured heart aching.

“No, kid…” he started, but couldn’t think of anything more to say, closing his eyes, his face screwing up in a grimace because… Mk didn’t talk about before they met, but it didn’t take a genius to figure it out, especially not with him trembling and crying and begging Pigsy to keep him, of all things, apologizing for no reason, promising to be better, like he needed to do something to be worthy of someone wanting him around.

He wanted to do something, say something, anything to reassure him, but… kind words, physical affection... they weren’t something he was good at. He wasn’t even sure he knew how to be anything other than gruff and loud. Mk deserved someone so much better than him, but…

Mk was still clinging to his sleeve, curled up in a tight ball and trembling, his face hidden, pressed into the covers like he was afraid it was wrong to cry, or that he might have gotten in trouble for it, tensed as if expecting a blow (one of words or one of the physical kind Pigsy wasn't sure he was ready to know), and yet through all of that, still holding onto Pigsy.

Mk deserved so much better than him, but he was what the kid had right now. The least he could do was try his best, even if it was rough, blunt, and unpolished.

He crouched down at the side of the bed, careful not to make Mk think he was pulling away--even in his deliriously feverish state, he didn’t want the kid thinking he was going to leave him, that would likely only make him more distressed--and haltingly placed a hand on the top of his head.

Mk stiffened at the contact, and Pigsy did too, suddenly afraid he’d done something horribly wrong by touching him, but then Mk was relaxing and leaning into the touch and his crying was more of just, shuddering breaths and shivers.

He still didn’t release Pigsy’s sleeve, and Pigsy didn’t try to make him.

He stayed like that, crouched at the edge of the bed, his hand resting on Mk’s head, just… letting him know he was there.

Somehow, miraculously, his half-aborted, unsure attempt at comfort seemed to be enough for him, and Mk fell back asleep after a few minutes, still mumbling things now and again.

“Yeah,” he said quietly after Mk had drifted off. “I’m not going anywhere, kid.”

Wip Ask Game ASK ME ABOUT MY WIPS (wip list post)

[lick-me-lennon22]

George caring for a sick Dhani 💜

(thank you to @pmak2002 for this request!! it was supposed to be just a blurb but I did a little research beforehand and it ended up pretty much becoming a whole fic 😅 oops... either way, I hope you enjoy this one! 💕)

When Dhani wakes up for school on Monday morning, he immediately knows something his wrong. His throat is sore, his nose is runny, and his muscles ache like nothing he's felt before. He painstakingly drags himself out of bed, clutching the sheet around him, and heads straight to his parents' bedroom where he finds his mum Olivia still in bed. Dhani notices that the bathroom door is cracked open and cautiously steps inside to find his father, George, brushing his teeth. "Dad..?" he says quietly, voice hoarse. George startles, turning around to see Dhani in his unfortunate state and spits his mouthful of toothpaste into the sink, letting the water wash it down the drain before turning the tap off. "What is it, my boy? You sound bloody awful..," he gently presses the back of his hand to Dhani's forehead to assess his temperature. "You seem to be running quite the fever, son- let's get you to the doctor, all right? Just let me finish up in here and I'll be right out to take ye" George says. Dhani nods weakly, coughing into his elbow, and shuffles out of the room. George jumps into action- he swishes and spits some mouthwash, changes out of his sleepwear into a button-up and jeans, and sprints to the car, his son following close behind him and hopping into the passenger's seat.

 

"This is ridiculous.." George mutters under his breath as he walks his son out of the clinic and gets into the driver's seat of his car. They had been able to see the doctor almost instantly upon arriving; he had taken some swabs, run a few tests, and determined that Dhani had contracted the flu: "He probably picked it up from school," the doc had said. When George had requested a prescription of some kind to alleviate his son's symptoms, the doctor simply shook his head: "I'm afraid there isn't much we can do for him. The flu's been going around at many schools, I've seen a lot of children this past week with the same complaints. As it stands, all I can tell you is to give him some over-the-counter medicine, bring him some saltwater to gargle for that sore throat, and be sure he gets plenty of fluids and bedrest." George tried to argue, stating that there must be something he can do to cure Dhani of his illness sooner- but as the doc's hands were tied and George didn't want to subject his son to more stress, he took Dhani by the hand and led him out of the office, through the lobby, and back to the car. "Alright, my boy," George sighs- "seeing that the doctor was no help whatsoever, we're headed straight to the drugstore for anything that'll help you feel better. Sound good?"

"Yeah Dad, sounds good" Dhani croaks out and smiles weakly, glad just to spend some time with his father. Being a famous musician and all, George isnt able to spend as much time with his son as he'd like to, a lot of it consumed by work and media-related endeavors. Dhani admired his Dad more than anyone else in his life and though they rarely got the chance to hang out nowadays, they were practically best friends and had formed a close bond throughout his childhood. George was always a fun parent, bringing his son along to festivals and such ("Don't tell yer mum," he'd say with a grin), and sticking up for Dhani to authority figures and even other kids at his school- he was fiercely protective of his boy. However, he was also a gentle parent who allowed Dhani the chance to explore and express himself, and had fostered a mutual respect between the two of them since his son was but a toddler.

"I'm pulling you from school for the whole week" "But what if I'm- *cough*- all better before then?" "Just in case, Dhani- it's not like you really need them and their indoctrination, anyway.." George grumbles, never having been a fan of traditional schools or their teachings. Dhani however has always cared about his grades and paid close attention to the lessons he's been taught, in spite of what his father thinks. "...Okay, Dad" he says meekly, wanting to protest but unwilling to sacrifice more quality time with his famous father. George pulls into the parking lot of the nearest drugstore and marches in, intent on gathering all the supplies his sick boy could need: tissues, lozenges, cough syrup, pain medication, ice packs, and even more tissues- 'just in case.' He makes his way to the checkout, queuing up, paying for the items and hauling his bags back to the car. He drives Dhani home as quickly as possible, carrying him to bed and tucking him in before calling and cancelling any studio time, interviews, or collaborations he'd previously planned. There's only one committment he can't cancel- dinner with Paul tonight for the first time in ages. George sets his son up with all of the remedies he'd bought and tells his wife Olivia everything about the situation, including the "unhelpful and useless" doctor they had gone to see. She of course agrees to care for Dhani, sending her husband on his way to dinner with one of his long-time best friends.

 

The following day George rises just before noon, having stayed up late to pal around with Macca. He runs the few errands on his agenda, including grabbing his family some lunch, and pulls into his driveway back home where he spots the vehicle of none other than Richard Starkey parked outside. He makes his way to his son's room to discover that Uncle Ringo had come to visit the sick young lad (having found out from Paul that Dhani had come down with a bad case of the flu), joking and cheering him up to distract him from his poor state. The two close friends chat for some time in the living room before Ritchie departs, Olivia checking up on Dhani in the meantime. George thanks his wife and dismisses her from her nurse duties, taking on the responsibility himself. He tiptoes to his son's bedroom cautiously and enterd to see that he's been tucked in, the ice pack George had picked up from the store the previous day resting on his forehead, half-lidded eyes trained onto the telly. "Dhani..?" "Oh- *cough*- hey, Dad"

George approaches the bed and sits down carefully, holding a paper bag out to Dhani. "I brought you a burrito- your favorite," he grins down at his son, who takes the bag: "Really? *cough*- Thanks Dad, you're the best!" he says, hands emerging from the blankets to tear into the treat. George stays sat on the bed, determined to spend time with his sick boy and make sure he knows how loved he is. Glancing around the room at the piano and guitars he's bought and played with Dhani, then back to the young man, Ringo's words from earlier echo in his mind: "He's growing up into such a wonderful lad. He's just like you, ye know- good looks and all."

Olivia had always said they were very alike, but he'd usually dismissed the observation... until now. George couldn't help but realize that they were right- though he was but eleven years old Dhani was already becoming a very talented and creative musician, having learned much about music from his dad. He'd certainly taken after his Beatle father in that regard, and they were in fact very similar- not to mention their near identical looks. Sharing his Dad with the world had been difficult and a bit isolating for Dhani despite his many school mates. He admired and looked up to George from a very young age, always striving to be just like him. As Dhani grew up before George's eyes, he became more and more like his father by the day and George was immensely proud.

His train of thought was broken suddenly when Dhani finished the burrito, crumpling the paper bag and tossing it into the bin. He landed the throw, earning a hearty laugh and a high five from his father. He closed his eyes and laid back, George stroking his hair gently, the two of them cherishing this moment of father-son love. "Are you gettin' sleepy, Dhani?" he asked tenderly- his son nodded in response, already drowsy despite the brightness of the late afternoon sun. "Tell you what- I'll play you a lullaby, that way you can rest easier and know that I'm here beside you." "Dad," Dhani chuckled, "aren't I a little too old for that?" he lied, secretly longing for the affectionate gesture. George grabbed his son's acoustic guitar from its stand and begin to tune it: "You're never too old for yer old man's love and attention, eh? Now you just relax, close your eyes, and rest." Dhani didn't protest any further, heeding his father's instructions with a soft smile on his face. With that, George began to play- he chose "Here Comes The Sun," fingers strumming the strings gently and with care, dedicating the sweet words to his beloved son. By the time he was finished Dhani was fast asleep- grin faltering as he drifted off, but still visible on his lips. George placed the guitar back on the stand gently, taking care not to wake the sleeping lad. He smiled to himself, tears welling in his eyes as he turned to admire his son's peaceful face. "I love you, my boy," he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on Dhani's forehead before tip-toeing out of the room and shutting the door cautiously. Back pressed against the wooden door, George let his eyelids fall shut and sighed: "Sweet dreams, Dhani." ♡

[dabi-drift]

Could we have a shy s/o who asks geten out on a date + relationship headcanons please, sorry if this is too much you can pick one or the other if you want✨ btw I love your work, always looking forward to your posts!

Ahh, this was such a cute concept to me! It’s a little longer than usual, and I spent virtually all day on it, so I hope it’s good! And thank youuuu!! That’s awesome, and so appreciated! ^^

Geten’s Shy S/O Asking Him Out:

❈ Your timidity was all-consuming, and really impacted on your social relations. When in a conversation, you'd find yourself unable to look the person in the eyes. Your gaze would drift to the ground, like you didn’t feel worthy enough to even give the illusion of being on their level. A raised head would've sent out the wrong signals. You didn’t want anyone thinking you over-confident, or a narcissist.

❈ Instead, you were seen as a quiet, obedient MLA member, who preferred lone training, but worried incessantly about fighting. After all, that meant interacting with people - something you absolutely did not support.

❈ As such, you'd only spoken with Geten two or three times, in passing. Yet, he was always on your mind. You wanted to extinguish your feelings so, so badly! He was a million times better than you - way out of your league! It was a wonder why you'd ever fallen in the first place. What was the point, when all you'd get was heartbreak?

❈ You were convinced that's all you'd ever get.

❈ But your heart just couldn’t let go.

❈ 3/4 of your word count were probably apologies, so you wouldn’t be surprised if he found you strange.

❈ Surely he wouldn’t want such a shy, soft-spoken partner?

❈ …But you just couldn’t let him go. If you never even tried to court him, he'd find someone else, and it'd destroy you! He was always on your mind, even when he shouldn’t be - you fawned over him, like a desperate fan. He was so strong, so pretty…a violent little cutie. From your rose-tinted perspective, he had no faults.

❈ That fiery attitude might disenchant the average admirer, but at this point, you were a veteran, in way too deep. What you felt…it was infinitely stronger than a crush. It never wavered…never faded.

❈ You had journals full of phrases like "I wish, with the might of all the stars, that you would look at me the way I look at you.", and short pieces proclaiming your love for him. And to really cement this point, you had his name written in hearts. Many hearts. Spanning like,, an entire journal.

❈ You almost worshipped him, as though he were a god, or an entire religion.

❈ …It wasn’t easy, being in love. You were resolved to tell him, but you couldn’t do that in a public area. You'd have to drag him somewhere more private. The thought made you flush. What if he grew suspicious? Or assumed you wanted to hurt him?? Nothing could've been further from the truth. But since you had trouble speaking, and your face would definitely be on fire…he'd be cautious, maybe even angry?

❈ Oh god, you did not want him to be angry! If that happened, you'd chicken out immediately. He'd have you running for the hills, getting the hell out of Deika City and never, ever showing your face there again. And in the worst case, the embarrassment and fear might force you out of Japan. You'd have to change your name, get a new social security number, find a new job and apartment…

❈ Why was it so difficult to confess?? You wanted to be so naturally eloquent with your words, so confident and clever, that he'd be compelled to swoon. You commanded greater mastery over the written word, but you needed to tell him in person. You needed him to hear, to feel the emotion behind them. You had to be taken seriously. You had to try.

❈ So try you did. You managed to catch him as he walked toward one of Deika's many training grounds. You were alone, save for the birds that chirped overhead. The frosty weather bit at your cheeks, but you couldn’t be deterred. Not anymore. It was now or never.

❈ You had the stage, and his full attention. It was so nerve-wracking!

❈ "Geten…! Um, I-I've really admired - uh, liked!...Loved! Yeah…um, I've…for a while now, a-and…I wanted to tell you…! So, uh…if it  i-isn't too much trouble, um…p-please go out with me!"

❈ You stood with a lowered head, uncomfortably basking in the silence that followed. You couldn’t meet his eyes, for fear of seeing an emotion you knew you wouldn’t be able to bear.

❈ "…Go out? Where would we go?"

❈ You looked up, mouth hanging open in shock. A light blush sat atop his cheeks…so he'd understood your feelings, at least.

❈ "U-Uh…it means…um…" Your voice got progressively quieter, as you realised that you had to teach him what a relationship actually was.

❈ "Speak up. You're hard to hear." He huffed, though he didn’t seem angry.

❈ Okay, so I don't have to move countries.

❈ "It's, um…d-d-dating…? It's m-more than friends, like uh…r-romantic…holding hands and k-k-kissing and stuff…!"

❈ He blushed harder, and despite his efforts to hide it under the fur of his Parka, you saw it. There was another round of silence, like he was considering the pros and cons of 'dating' you.

❈ Finally, he reached a decision.

❈ "I guess…I'll 'go out' with you."

& Relationship Headcanons: 

❈ This boy doesn't know a ton about love, so you're gonna have to teach him what it means to: 1) have a partner, and 2) show affection toward said partner. He's never been in a position quite like this before, so he's definitely a slow-starter.

❈ Make no mistake, though - he does love you. And due to both his ideology and strength, he's fiercely loyal and protective. If you have a 'weak' Meta Ability, he'll be a little disappointed (for the future generation, y'know?), but it just means he has to shield you from any and all dangers. It's a responsibility he cherishes. He's never really had to look out for anyone but himself, so it's a nice change of pace.

❈ Initially, he isn't sure about the whole 'dating' and 'lovers' thing. You're still incredibly shy, and whenever he tries to hold your hand, you go bright red and shuffle your feet awkwardly. He'll take that the wrong way.

❈ It takes many, many weeks for you to gather up the courage to ask for a kiss. Geten obliges almost instantly, but hesitates when he sees you shaking.

❈ It's more from excitement than embarrassment, but he doesn't know that.

❈ Of course you're excited! You're finally, finally gonna kiss the boy you love. But you're also nervous. It's your first kiss, after all. You want it to be perfect, but you're scared you're gonna mess up. And if you do, you're worried he'll hate you. If you mess up, you ruin the experience for two people.

❈ So you make 10000% sure he's okay with it, and you make him swear on his life that he won't be mad at you.

❈ He's of the opinion that you can always try again, but in your mind, it's a life or death scenario.

❈ If you take too long, over-think (no doubt you will) or start to falter, he'll just crash your lips together, albeit sloppily. He doesn't care about gentle or rough, messy or clean…as long as you're connected. He'll place one hand on your waist, and pin you to the wall. For someone so inexperienced, his movements gradually get more professional.

❈ In reality, he's researching this for you

❈ You'll snuggle up to Geten during the summer months, because despite his inability to create ice, his body temperature is still quite low.

❈ You get to see him without the Parka. No-one gets to see him without the Parka. Consider yourself a lucky, lucky bastard.

❈ Your shyness won't disappear, but around Geten, you definitely become more composed. After a few months, or even a year, that is. In the beginning, you're nothing but a nervous, stuttering wreck, who can't stand beside him for more than ten seconds without melting.

❈ Oh, you might want those plane tickets after all, because he's gonna find your journals eventually (when he's absolutely head-over-heals in love with you). Don't worry though, he'll think they're cute, and a testament to how amazing you are as a partner.

❈ Honestly, your heart holds so much value to him. He'll never, ever let you give it to someone else. He's whipped - completely, totally…and he isn't afraid to admit it!

❈ Once the PLF is formed, he'll seek you out to join the Violet Regiment (but be in the same room as Dabi, and blood will be shed).

❈ Everyone headcanons him as Geten's biggest romantic rival, and I'm not here to argue with that

❈ He's bad with words, so he'll rely on actions! Just don't expect any PDA (unless he's jealous)!! <3

[echo-three-one]

Whatever It Takes

Sequel to A Forgotten Memory

Roach's stealth skills are put to the test as he sneaks past an alleged Augustus base to capture him and gather intel about the recent EMP based attacks. Will Roach be able to impress Captain Price?

Previous Chapter : Soap - Experiment 001

Chapter 9 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

"A SurPRICE Visit"

Gary 'Roach' Sanderson

Task Force 141

400 meters outside Augustus' Mountain Base

Germany

The winds were picking up when they landed and Roach flew about a few more meters away from Price.

"This EMP blast is messing with my signals. Captain, can you find Roach?" Ghost spoke over comms, his voice crumbled over the static.

"He landed not too far from me. Come on boy, let's get a head on." Price replied to Ghost as he helped Gary get up and untangle himself from his mess. Gary nodded and followed his Captain into the edge of the mountain.

"There it is. Augustus' base." he mused as Gary scoped through his supressed silencer. Trucks were leaving the area filled with armed hostiles.

"Ghost, you see this? They're leaving the hive." Price informed the recon man.

"Aye, sir. Looks like they're headed to Alex's direction. If we time this right you'll have less people inside there." he replied. Gary wondered why they were leaving. It didn't make sense to back-up an already reclaimed base back at Alex's.

"Let's go Roach. I'll take the one on the left tower, you take the one on the right. I'm currently spotting four Tangos by the gate. Fire when ready." Price instructed. Roach took a deep breath to steady his sights, quickly pulling the trigger once the crosshairs aligned with their heads.

"Good kill. Your sniper skills are improving, Sargeant." Price mused as he signaled them to move forward. For a Captain who's left him a solid first impression as a strict angryman, Roach didn't expect the kind words from him. It almost felt overwhelming.

"You go ahead and take what's important inside that guardhouse. I'll cover you from this position." he commanded and Gary sprung safely into action, switching to his suppressed pistol and into the guardhouse.

It was simple, a few cameras, some photos of people who they let in and a few map layouts. Gary quickly snapped all of them for Ghost to see. Roach also grabbed the radio and placed it near his ear. Gary set his sights on an AK-47 lying on the ground.

"Roach, be careful when using unsuppressed weapons. It might reveal our existence." Price muttered to which he nodded. It just made sense.

"Jäeger, kopierst du?" the radio muttered. Roach's German wasn't on point and any non-reply from the other end would result in an investigation.

"Ja, alles klar." he replied, trying to replicate the accent. There was no more reply on the other side which meant Gary actually nailed his reply.

"Captain, behind that door is heavily guarded. I suggest a reroute to the back door just a few meters east of your position. This isn't Augustus' base, it's a remote research facility studying plant life by the border and he seemed to take it over." Ghost informed after gathering the photos, Gary waited on the edge of the wall covering his Captain's six. The duo proceeded as suggested and climbed over an unguarded fence.

"We're at a greenhouse. Labeled 6." Price whispered.

"Do you see any cameras?" Ghost asked.

"Yeah. Looking at the plants." he muttered.

"Circle around it and find cover behind the safehouse labeled 5. If my German is correct, the central area should have 2 scientists on their way in there." Ghost informed.

"Right on schedule." Price nodded to Roach as they both knocked them down quietly and non-lethally as they were civilians. Gary quickly slung his weapon and hid it behind the huge white lab coat the both of them now wore.

"Keep your weapons hidden, until I say so. Okay?" Price said as he pulled the bodies somewhere hidden. Gary nodded as they confidently waltzed inside the base, using their fake ids pinned on their coats for entry.

Gary watched a lot of sci-fi fics and most of them depicted labs as white walled, glass-divided rooms with hundreds of scientists working on some random machineries. Except here, it's plants. It seemed normal as if they infiltrated the wrong base. Price seemed to worry too, his steps were further apart and he seemed to be in a hurry. They were losing hope on a lead, until one armed guard, different from those outside started climbing up the stairs.

"Finally. Some good news." Price muttered as they made their way up the stairs.

"Authorized personnel only." an armed guard stood by the steps blocking the duos way. It was too crowded and too risky to engage him and press through and they both needed a new plan.

"Es tut mir leid." Gary replied as he pulled Price to the restrooms.

"It's no use. We can't go guns ablazing right here." he noted to his Captain.

"Bollocks." he cursed.

"We need a diversion." He added.

"Way ahead of you, Sir." Gary smirked and showed him his c4 trigger, pushed it and an explosion followed.

"Nice. By the guard house?" Price asked while they waited for reinforcements to assist the blast.

"Yeah."

"Quick thinking lad. I like that."

Several armed men came rushing down the stairs, yelling in a different language, all going to the exit. They stomped to the stairs and carefully breached the second floor of the building, shooting armed tangos using suppressed weapons. They had to act fast and stomp on their comms as soon as they're down so that the others outside will not fall back.

Ten guards were left behind to protect the second floor, and with the help of stealth, Gary and Price took them out smoothly. All that's left are the intel waiting to be harvested.

Gary snapped all possible evidence, every nook and cranny was investigated while Price tapped his heavy fingers on the keyboard.

"Looks like they're going large. They're planting something by the major cities cell towers. Here's one in Berlin." he muttered, printing a copy of the blueprints.

"Price! R-ch" Ghost's static crackled across their comms.

"Th- found- guards!

Get. Out. There. NOW." he added.

"Kill every civilian in there. That will let our little friends out of the shadows. I know they're after us…" a menacing voice said over Roach's stolen receiver.

"Shite. They're killing civvies." Gary said, worried.

"I'm sorry Roach. But we can't save them. It's a trap. Now protect that camera and let's get the fuck out of here." Price consoled as they continued pressing on toward the exit.

Screaming people followed by gunshots echoed across the white halls of the research facility, Gary didn't want to look back, Gary didn't want to hear any more screaming but it was all around him. Whoever commanded this act to be done must be eradicated from this world.

LOCAL MILITIA SETTLEMENT

Alex greeted the duo as soon as they stepped inside the village. It felt lively as everyone was celebrating their victory.

"Captain." Alex nodded and Price returned the gesture with a handshake.

"This is Blitz. Their leader." he added, introducing the man to Price.

"Thank you for helping us." Price acknowledged.

"No. Thank you for helping us. You have good men fighting for a good cause." he remarked, nodding at Alex and Gary. Gary also got acquainted with the leader, exchanged a few words and got offered soup.

"Tough day, huh?" Alex nudged over Gary, who's still sad about the situation earlier.

"You and me, both." Gary muttered as Alex patted his shoulder.

"We'll get him soon enough, Roach. Justice will be served." Alex consoled as Gary took a deep sigh.

"They're planting EMP bombs on major cell towers. Maybe incorporating it with them to perform large scale blasts." Gary pondered, taking a sip off the delicious soup.

"Yeah. That's our go signal. It's now a terror activity. Imagine a day without communication. International trade would crumble." Alex explained to which Gary nodded in agreement.

"Global cripple. People's minds get hurt, Economy gets hurt and we aren't focused enough to defend ourselves."

"That's what he's up to." Gary finished.

"And we have to stop it. Whatever It Takes." Alex looked at Gary with determination, that kind of pep talk that makes him a little less sad.

"Yeah." Gary agreed.

~

Another briefing, but this time, it was going somewhere. Operation Burn, the task is to eliminate Nero and all his allies, if possible. Funny enough, the real Nero burned everyone else. Whoever thought of this name was smart enough to connect the dots.

There's another person added to the team, the redhead leather jacket agent, Alexandra Ryder. An interpol agent tasked to destroy all traces of said EMP machinery. She looks tough, acts tough and basically is tough. France seemed to be going along well with her. That's a bonus for alliances such as these.

"So, I heard Price noted your sniper improvement." Ghost nudged.

"Yeah. Thanks Simon. Your training sucks but it helped a lot." Gary complimented.

"Tried talking to France and the new girl today." Ghost reported. Gary turned to him, clearly interested about his story.

"It was actually good. They're both intimidated by the mask and that's why they can't initiate conversation with me. But the talk went pretty well so I guess you needed to update your scoreboard or something." He muttered.

Gary chuckled. "That's one step towards her."

"I'll let the Interpol handle Berlin. Since it involves just the weapon, as for other news. I think it's time to transfer our two hostages back to the USA." Gary quickly turned his head back to the screen. No. It can't be. He had to stop this decision.

"With all due respect sir. I do not agree with this!" Gary stood up and all eyes were on him. He's still concerned about the welfare of the two plus he didn't want Maxine to leave. Not yet.

"I've read the report on their case sir. And it's not that I don't trust the system there but what if there's still another one in there with ties to Nero. He was able to slip by under our noses once or more times than that but let's consider the possibilities here." Gary explained as he looked around. Alex seemed to agree with him.

Shepherd let out a soft sigh.

"We'll discuss this possibility Sgt. Sanderson. You can sit down now." he said and resumed briefing.

"Brave move you did there, soldier." Ghost remarked as Gary let out a sigh. He wasn't sure on he's really concerned, the IP Address being extracted from Samantha or Maxine's smile that he will be missing if she left.

Next Chapter : The Heart Knows what the Brain doesn't

Notification Squad, my beloved

@samatedeansbroccoli @smokeywhalee @whimsywispsblog @enderio @beemybee @ricinbach

[emachinescat]

Explosion + Hands + Jack

A MacGyver Fan-Fiction

by @emachinescat ​

@febuwhump ​ day 22 - burned

Summary: A bomb Mac is disposing of goes off prematurely – and Mac’s hands pay the price. Or, the time when Jack has to be Mac's hands. 

Characters: Mac, Jack

Words: 2,945

TW: Relatively graphic description of burns

Note: This story is based loosely off a scene from classic MacGyver. Also, please take the vague MacGyverism with a grain of salt. I did some research (and also wrote this before Mac made the same thing a different way on the newest episode), but I also took some creative liberties.

Keep reading here, or on AO3!

If you enjoy, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging, and you can follow me for more content like this!

"These have to be the stupidest bad guys I've ever met," Jack griped. He sat in an old dining chair, ankles lashed together with rope and hands tied behind his back. MacGyver was his mirror image, tied similarly, in another chair, back to back with his partner. Their bound hands had been connected to each other, so every time Mac moved, working the ropes, Jack's arms jerked with him.

Even though he couldn't see Mac's face, he could clearly picture the raised eyebrow in his mind's eye as Mac responded dryly, "And you're… complaining about it?"

A cramp ran through Jack's upper back, and he instinctively rolled his shoulders. Mac squawked indignantly as Jack's movement impeded his progress. "Hey, watch it! You almost made me stab myself!"

"Sorry." Jack paused for a brief moment, trying not to think about why Mac was working so feverishly to cut through the thick ropes with his knife – seriously, they hadn't taken his knife before they'd tied them up! – without cutting himself or Jack. "You about got it, hoss?"

Mac's voice was strained with concentration when he responded. "Just … about," he grunted. "Keep talking."

Jack smirked. "Can't get enough of hearing ol' Jack's wisdom, huh?"

"It's more like white noise, but if it makes you feel better…"

"It does." Jack continued on his earlier line of conversation. "I'm just sayin', man, these lunatics didn't leave nobody here to keep an eye on us, and they left Angus MacGyver tied with regular ol' rope with his SAK in his pocket and a room stock fulla toys he can use to escape." When he spoke, Jack's Texas drawl was thicker than usual. He'd noticed that his accent got more pronounced when he was nervous or in a rough situation. He'd mentioned it to Mac once, and his partner had quickly informed him that it was more than likely a coping mechanism, Jack's way of unconsciously trying to keep himself calm. Jack disagreed. He was convinced that his cowboy twang got heavier in nerve wracking situations because he was actively channeling the spirit of Clint Eastwood and his mind and body were preparing him to do some insanely awesome hero stuff to fix the situation.

"Yeah, well… they also left a bomb in the room," Mac reasoned. Jack could feel the sawing motion as Mac carefully made his way through the rope. Any other time, Jack knew that he would have cut through it in half the time, but with all four of their collective hands gathered together in one bundle of scratchy rope, Mac had to move slowly, methodically, so he didn't cut either one of them. Normally, it wouldn't be a problem for him to take his time, but as Mac had so helpfully pointed out, there was the matter of a ticking bomb just out of arm's reach. And they had no idea how much time was left.

Jack tried to paint their situation in a better light. "It's just a little one. The explosion won't even be all that big."

"No," Mac agreed, "but with all the gasoline they scattered around us, I think it's a safe bet that the size of the explosion won't matter, since we'll burn with the warehouse."

A snap, a sigh of relief, and then Jack felt Mac move in the chair, and knew he was bending forward to untie his feet. As soon as he was free, Mac pelted forward so quickly that he pushed the chairs back a couple of inches, Jack and all. He didn't stop to untie Jack – no time – but he did leave the SAK in his palm. Jack immediately started sawing at his own ropes.

He was still working when he heard Mac swear loudly from somewhere behind him. A queasy dread settled in Jack's gut.

"Talk to me, Mac!"

"No time!" Mac spat, and Jack knew, heart stuttering, that his partner wasn't just saying that he had no time to talk – there was no time on the bomb.

"I can't disarm it!" Mac yelled, his voice growing farther away as he ran, presumably with the bomb in tow, away from Jack. "I'm going to try to contain it!"

Jack continued to cut at the ropes – almost there! He heard the sound of something metal being pried open, and he remembered that there was a large dumpster near the door of the warehouse, one of those industrial ones. Hope rose cautiously within him. Mac had done similar things before; there was no reason why it shouldn't work this time!

The one thing that he didn't factor in, however, was the bomb's timer running out before Mac could close the dumpster.

He heard the explosion, a terrible, anguished scream, and then, the worst sound of all – low, uncontrollable, rocking sobs of pain.

Jack cut himself three times in his haste to get free, but he made it to Mac's side in less than a minute. What he saw made his stomach curdle and his hands shake as he pulled Mac back, further from the smoking dumpster.

Mac had curled into himself on the floor, his hands gnarled before him in pain. Once they'd moved a safe distance from the mostly contained bomb, Jack took a closer look at them and nearly vomited – not from the blood or the burns themselves, but from the knowledge that these were Mac's hands that had been caught in the explosion, burned, blistered, and bloody almost beyond recognition. Jack knew he should be grateful that all of Mac's fingers were intact, but it was hard to feel thankful for anything when Mac's hands could serve as a suitable stand-in for ground beef.

Mac's head was low, chin flush against his chest, his shoulders trembling in pain. Jack remembered when Mac had sustained first and second degree burns pulling his dumb ass out of a crematorium. Jack too had been burned on the bottoms of his feet, and the healing process for both Mac and himself had been one of the most painful experiences either of them could recall in recent memory. There had been debriding, cleaning, bandages, antibiotics, and, in Mac's case, a few sessions of physical therapy.

This was so much worse.

"Mac, buddy," Jack entreated, trying to keep his voice steady for his partner's sake. His accent was slathered liberally on every syllable, his voice gentle and quiet, like he was approaching a startled horse. "I need you to look at me. Are you hurt anywhere else?"

Mac didn't respond, just heaved in a great gulp of air, and the breath rattled in his lungs like the last throes of a dying man. The sound clenched its icy fist around Jack's heart. He reached out, placing his index and middle fingers carefully beneath Mac's chin and lifting his kid's head to look him in the eyes. What he saw there nearly killed him.

Jack had been Mac's overwatch for a long time, and he'd seen the kid in a lot of less than ideal situations – roughed up, sick, shot, you name it. But never had Jack seen the level of fear and pain blazing in Mac's eyes as he did now. Tear streaks ran down his face, which was sooty and a bit red, especially around his forehead, but the burns on his face were superficial. Definitely first-degree. He'd managed to shield his face and eyes from the blast.

But his hands… Mac had to have just let go of the bomb to drop it in the dumpster for his hands to look like that but still be basically intact. Jack moved his hand from Mac's chin and cupped his partner's face in his hand, gently brushing a tear away, trying to get Mac's attention on him, to calm him down. "Mac, talk to me." He had no idea how he was keeping himself from crying right alongside his friend. "I need to know you're with me."

Mac hiccuped, took a deep breath through his nose and made a visible effort to calm himself down. When he spoke, every bit of the agony Jack saw in his face translated to his voice. "I–I'm okay."

Jack chuckled, but there was no humor to it. "I don't believe that for a second. But you will be, ya hear me?"

Mac nodded shakily, a low, keening whine building at the base of his throat like a wounded hound dog. He choked out, "It h-hurts."

"I know, bud. Can I see your hands?"

Mac shook his head, pulling his hands closer to his body. "Not yet. We n-need to find a way out of here f-f-first." Mac's teeth had started chattering, which sent a whole new wave of fear tearing through Jack's body. If Mac was going into shock, they were really out of time. And as much as Jack wanted to get a better idea of the damage, figure out what they were working with, he knew Mac was right. In all the chaos and worry, he'd almost forgotten that they were still locked in the warehouse with a smoking dumpster slowly turning the air against them. From where they sat on the floor, the air wasn't bad yet, but they needed to kick it into third gear – it wouldn't stay that way for long.

"Okay," Jack agreed. "How do we get out? As I recall, they've padlocked all the doors from the outside, and this whole place is made of steel. Can you figure out how to make something to bust those doors down?"

Mac's eyes, glazed with pain, darted around the warehouse, which had until very recently been one of the stashes of the cartel that had captured them. "Uhhh…" His voice broke, and Jack saw Mac's hands twitch in a painful spasm out of the corner of his eye. Fresh tears welled up, and Mac blew out a shaky breath. "Okay. Yeah. We should b-be able to make a blowtorch to c-cut us out of here."

Jack shot Mac a dubious look. "You're not makin' anything hoss, and I sure as hell don't know how to make a blowtorch. Think you got it in you to walk me through it?"

Mac didn't look so sure, and Jack's stomach flipped as he saw how much the trembling had increased. Still, MacGyver was never one to admit defeat, and he nodded. His voice was thick with pain, dry and raspy, but he managed to walk Jack through a collection of basic supplies, all of which were readily available in their current space – an empty syringe, a thumbtack, pliers, lighter fluid, and Jack's own lighter, which the bad guys had left on him. Seems the only things they'd actually taken were their prisoner's phones.

By the time Mac had coached Jack through the process of actually building the DIY blowtorch, an incredibly precise and delicate venture that Jack barely managed with his sausage-like fingers, smoke was beginning to gather in earnest, and Mac was shaking so badly that he sounded like he was working a jackhammer when he talked. But Jack had finished it, and to his shock and utter relief, it worked – he'd not doubted Mac, of course, but his own ability to bring Mac's idea to fruition – and Mac had offered a pained, crooked smile at him, and said, "S-s-see, we m-make a p-p-pretty good t-team." Then, whether from pain or shock or hyperventilation, he passed out, and Jack only spared enough time to check his vitals before he used his lighter-turned-blowtorch to cut his way through the steel wall of the warehouse.

It was a slow process, and Jack burned himself no less four times, but at last he'd carved their escape route. The men who'd left them here to burn had gone. Jack hoisted Mac onto his shoulder, taking extra care not to jostle his mangled hands, and set out in search of a phone – he knew there was a gas station a few miles away.

Mac just had to hold on until then.

***

24 Hours Later

Jack was there when Mac woke up from his first surgery.

Jack was always there when Mac woke up in medical.

Mac peered at him through groggy, drug-hazy eyes and gave his partner a weak smile. "Hey, Jack."

Jack fought the urge to pull the kid into the tightest bear hug he'd ever experienced. Only a glance down at Mac's heavily bandaged hands lying delicately on his chest kept him where he was, in the cushioned hospital chair that played at being comfortable but really wasn't after ten minutes. Jack had been sitting in it for nearly sixteen hours, give or take, not counting bathroom breaks and coffee runs. Others had stopped by at various times, too – Matty, Bozer, and Riley chief among them – but right now it was just Jack and Mac. The way it had always been.

The way it would always be.

"Hey, kiddo. How're ya feelin'?"

Mac thought about this for a long moment, his brow furrowed in concentration like he was trying to figure out some complicated equation. Finally, he answered, "Weird."

Jack threw his head back and laughed, though what Mac had said in no way warranted the kind of reaction he was getting. It was like all of the stress and fear and uncertainty and trauma of the last day were riding the shockwave of that almost manic laugh.

Mac's eyebrows creased further in concern. "What's so funny?"

Jack scrubbed at his eyes with his sleeve, not sure if his eyes were watering from laughing, or if he had started crying somewhere along the way. "Nothing, hoss. What feels weird?"

"Floaty?" Mac answered uncertainty. From where Jack was sitting, Mac looked all of seven years old, tucked into the hospital bed in the Phoenix recovery ward, hair messy, eyes tired and confused.

Jack patted Mac on the shoulder, and Mac stared at the hand like it was the most surprising thing he'd ever encountered. Damn, they had him on the good stuff. He told Mac as much.

Mac's eyes were already drifting shut, the pull of the drugs too strong. "You go to sleep," Jack said softly, unable to keep himself from brushing a stray lock of hair from Mac's reddened forehead. "We can talk more when you wake up."

Mac, for once, did as he was told.

***

Jack spent the night at Mac's side, of course, despite Matty's urging that he go home and get some sleep. He wouldn't have been able to sleep, anyway, even if he had been in his own bed. He couldn't stop thinking, stop remembering. When he looked at Mac now, he saw pristine white bandages and the kind of tentative peace that could only come from whatever drugs they had him on – probably morphine and a cocktail of antibiotics, if he had his guess.

The problem was, Jack knew what lay beneath the bandages. He had seen, once he had finally found a phone and called for help, the extent of damage that had been done to Mac's hands up close. And it terrified him.

Even now every time he closed his eyes, even to blink, he could see his kid's hands, covered in burns, some so deep that Jack swore he could see tendons. They were bloody and blistered and the angriest shade of red Jack had ever seen.

He also saw, whenever his body betrayed him and he started to doze off, the way that MacGyver had writhed and twitched and moaned even while unconscious as Jack tried to examine them. His mind dragged him back to the Phoenix chopper, where a medical team immediately gave Mac painkillers and started debriding the burns. Mac had woken up then, thrashing and screaming the most terrible, guttural, animal screams, and Jack had been forced to hold him down while the medics worked, and he'd cried alongside Mac, and after they'd landed and Mac had been rushed in, Jack had found the nearest trash can and puked his guts out.

Even now, one surgery down, it was far from over. The doctor's prognosis had been hopeful, but cautious. Mac should be able to gain control of his hands again, should be able to build things and destroy Jack's phones and return fist bumps and high fives, and open doors and climb and pick things up and shoot hoops and anything else he wanted to do… but it would take time.

Six surgeries, minimum, to repair damage to tendons, do skin grafts. Mac's hands would always bear some scars, even though Phoenix had flown in the best surgeons in the country to rebuild the hands that usually did the rebuilding. And the few sessions of physical therapy he'd been through the last time he'd burned his hands were child's play to the PT he had in store in the coming months.

Jack sure as hell hoped the world would hold it together until MacGyver healed. He knew that it might as well have ended if Mac hadn't made it out of that explosion alive. Jack's world would have, at any rate.

But, Jack reminded himself as he watched the steady rise and fall of Mac's chest, despite all of the pain and physical therapy and surgeries in his future, Mac was by far the strongest person he knew. He had no doubt that the cautionary "should" the doctor placed on Mac's recovery was more of a "will definitely," because Mac didn't let anything slow him down for long.

So Jack had to be strong, too.

"I'll do it for you, Mac," he said aloud. He carded his fingers gently through mussed blonde hair.

It was a promise he intended to keep.

[realityshiftingandblogging]

Dreaming, An Explanation

Okay before I start, I had this posted on Amino a while back so if you go "hey I've seen this on Amino-" that's because it's my post. If you need further proof I'll log in and screenshot XD

I wanted to make this to show others valuable information and maybe clear up how the dream process works! Before anyone asks - yes I did write this. These are my NOTES from the book I was reading. You can find it here: https://books.google.com/books/about/500_Dreams_Interpreted.html?id=g-TqtgAACAAJ

Obviously I do not claim to have a scientific discovery on any bit of this information (lol), it's public information.

I've collected, gathered, and put into my own words. If I had to copy it word for word I have "quotations" and things like "(from the book.)" Also, you'll see me say "quote on unquote." If anything wasn't quoted, I sincerely apologize in advance. I hope you get any answers you have needed, and that this isn't too boring! The whole point of this was to give information on dreams and how make the most of them. I never really understood (until a few years back) why we lucid dream and how it works. Why does it do this and is there anything that triggers it? So here is what I learned and what I also got from the book! (I really hope you find answers because this took....8 hours? To write?) So in other words, I hope this clears things up for you!

Side note: The images are sort of like borders?? I hope they don't bother you. And there are a lot of grammar errors so 🧍🏻‍♀️

Introduction

Dreams can be used to communicate and discover important things about yourself. The process happens when the deepest part of your subconscious, that processes the dream state, sends messages to you - which can be symbols, actions, people, or images. What happens in a dream is usually not meaningless, but it can be confusing at times! These messages are meant to help you evaluate and discover what you are doing right and wrong.

Dreams can consist of personal experiences which are why when your subconscious messages you, it can consist of things that are personal to you. (Such as memories, beliefs, and other things like fantasies and expectations.) This is why if you learn the meanings of your dreams and discover how to use them, you can become better at what you do and achieve a higher level of inspiration and encouragement.

-----

“When you go to sleep, where do you really go?”    ― Brian Lovestar

-----

The way to unlock the meanings of your dreams is to realize that

¹ They are not a one-way experience in which your dream self bombards you with information.

² Dreams are not lectures, they are dialogues between your conscious and subconscious minds. The dialogue is created from your thoughts, emotions, and experiences. Your dream self then uses this information to create visual pictures to show you what you feel and how you perceive things.

Once you begin to interpret your dreams you will recognize attributes that may not be serving you in the best way possible/positive way. Once you interpret your dreams and learn - you’ll find it easier to face fears and overcome personal challenges. With more practice, you can learn to program and/or “incubate” your dreams to address a very specific problem. Because dreams generally have multiple levels of meaning, the more work, and effort you do, the better.

Why do we dream?

This has no definitive answer, though as far as speculation goes - it's to rejuvenate and repair the body. Others say it’s purely phycological; to review the daily events, relieve the mind, and to release emotions. Here are a few explanations...

Compensation

Carl Jung, a psychologist, believes that we dream to compensate for underdeveloped personalities. His reason is it may explain why the dreaming behavior of some is obviously different from the ‘them’ they personify while awake.

Processing

This suggests that dreams organize and process the conscious and unconscious mind that it received during the day. In other words “refreshing the mind.” And again, in other words, “rebooting/turning it off and on again.”

Coping

Ernest Hartmann, a psychiatry professor, suggests that dreams are projected by certain emotions. The new material is “weaved” into the memory of said dreamer in ways to help cope. In ways such as stress, anxiety, depression, trauma, etc.

Activation Synthesis

In this theory, Allan Hobson and Robert McCarley say that dreams are due to “sensory-motor signals.” These areas activate small parts of the brain that affect memory, emotions, and physical feelings. In this, it creates dreams in relation to the sensations and signals sent.

Resolution

Some scientists believe in this theory: the theory that dreaming is a problem-solving use. They suggest that when we sleep, our brain continues to process all issues of concern that we deal with in our waking hours. In this, it makes up solutions.

So what does happen when we sleep? That we know of?

When you go to bed at night you are alert. The reason is that your brain is still producing a small signal - a beta wave. As you begin to fall asleep these waves slow down and become ‘Alpha Waves.’ When this happens you might experience what’s called “Hypnagogia.” This is the experience of auditory and visual hallucinations that make it hard for you to fall into a “deep sleep.” As others may know it, it can cause Sleep Paralysis and Lucid Dreaming! As Google says: “Hypnagogia is the experience of the transitional state between wakefulness and sleep in humans: the hypnagogic state of consciousness, during the onset of sleep. Mental phenomena that occur during this “threshold consciousness” phase include lucid thought, lucid dreaming, hallucinations, and sleep paralysis.” During the process of attempting this...some people reported hearing their name called, seeing random patterns, and body jerks (which are called myoclonic jerks.) When you’re in this stage it’s as if you’re fighting to stay awake. But actually, this is the first step of sleep.

Every night your body switches between a cycle of REM and NREM states. This happens around every 90 minutes or so, you switch between light sleep and deep sleep and the cycle continues. It supposedly happens around 6 times a night (but varies depending on how long you sleep at night.) The changes between REM and NREM are found by the change of your heart rate, brain activity, muscle tension, and body temperature.

NREM Sleep

State one: In this stage, you should begin to drift off. Your muscles relax, your body temp and blood pressure decrease, and you breathe slowly. As the production of Alpha waves begin to slow, your awareness noise, light, and feeling begin to zone out. Your eyes would exhibit slow movements and this is an easy state to awake you from.

State two: If stage one is undisturbed, state two will enter the stage. In this, you will feel a deeper sense of relaxation and like before… All blood pressure, heart rate, breathing, and temp decrease. Your brain produces slower theta waves which will soon introduce “sleep spindles.” Sleep spindles are higher forms of activity. This process usually lasts 10-20 minutes.

State three: This is a deeper form of sleep. You couldn’t be awakened very easily from this state. Yet again temp, blood, and heart rate decrease. Your brain should still be producing theta waves, which gradually change to lower and larger delta waves.

State four: State four is when you are sleeping deeply now but not dreaming. In this stage, it’s difficult to be awoken due to your body’s sensitivity level. In this stage, most of your brain waves are delta waves now.

Back To Rem

Around 20 minutes after being in stage 4 of NREM, your cycle goes back to states 2 and 3. But you won't return to stage one and wake up. Instead, you will just go to REM sleep. This is called “prime dream mode.” The electrical waves/movements in your brain put you in a state similar to being awake. Your eyes will move from behind the lids. Research says this is because your mind is focusing on the dreams. During this, your heart rate speeds up, oxygen increases and so does your temp. After this REM is induced and what is commonly referred to as Sleep Paralysis will begin. This is when all muscles in the body are immobilized. As far as we know - it’s believed to prevent us from “acting out” in our dreams and hurting ourselves.

----

Side Note

This happens multiple times a night. The more time you enter State 4 sleep, the more rejuvenation you receive. The more time you spend in sleep, the less time that 3 and 4 will happen and gives you more time to spend in REM/dreaming stage. Also, from the reading, they say early morning dreams are more vivid and happen longer.

----

End of the dreaming

When you begin to wake up, you’ll experience “hypnopompia.” This is very similar to hypnagogia, This stage leaves you disoriented and makes you feel “loopy.” It could make you feel like there is pressure on your chest and sometimes causes you to feel, see, and hear things. Such as someone walking into your room and standing there. This process can be described as your mind waking up before your body does. Many times this does happen, but we have no memory of it ever happening. But when people do remember they describe it as frightening or disturbing. If you do happen to experience this, it’s said to remain calm and your body will eventually wake up.

How can you recall your dreams?

The first good step is to keep the visual fresh in your mind! As well, try to remember as many details as possible. Despite whether you only remember fragments or “none at all.” There are a few fun activities you can do!

Window of Opportunity

This method is intended to improve your observational skills, which does improve dream recall. Pick a comfortable spot to sit in, specifically near a window. You need the window. Take a few moments to unwind and relax. Just let your gaze look wherever you like - as long as you're looking at what’s out there. Notice as much detail as you can while being focused. BUT do not feel stressed by it. Don’t “worry” about it either. Just focus on the details. Take in as much as you can like… what color is the sky? Are the trees yellow and brown or green? Are there people? If so, what do they look like? What are they wearing? Once you are done with the scene and you feel comfortable, bring out a notebook and write down every bit of information you remember. It doesn’t matter the order and neither does it if you don’t remember something specific. It can be general things if that’s all you remember. Also, note the emotions you felt as you looked at certain things. Were you tired? Happy? Wanting this to be over? Write that down. If you’re artistic, you may sketch it! Sometimes sketching the scene may help you remember things you didn’t recall before.

Dream it up a bit

After this exercise, you might want to do better/enhance the skill. When you do, you should try being “more creative.” How so? Make it more “dreamier.” Pretend you are actually there in the scene. Strolling a path, smelling the roses, looking at the lake, etc. Once you’re done, jot it down. Remember to do this in the present tense. Write the details of what you saw and then implement yourself into it - just as you imagined.

Rewrite

If gazing out of a window is not something you want to do. There is another way! To do so you need to recall an event that happened in your day and pretend like it was a dream! Write it down in the present tense. Here’s an example: You went to eat lunch. Since you did you need to ask these questions:

•What time do I leave and arrive?

•What am I wearing?

•What’s the weather like?

•What day of the week is it?

•How am I feeling?

•Do I speak to someone?

•How do I travel?

•Am I alone?

You can do this for however long you’d like. Recalling all of these details as if they were a dream helps your mind remember said dreams.

Suggestion/Affirmations

Yep! Suggestion! This is effective and simple. All you have to do is, very often, suggest to yourself that you WILL remember your dreams. You can post reminders on your phone, ask someone to say “hey you're going to remember your dreams” every so often, or even use a “suggestion trigger.” A suggestion trigger is something to remind you to repeat your phrase. A good “suggestion trigger” is whenever you check the time!

Dream Journals and Sleep

Dream journals are your own personal journal and there is no “right or wrong” way to keep one. It’s made based on what you observe from your dreams. Simply put. The most important part of keeping one is that you feel comfortable with it. Here are a few small suggestions before going to bed:

Pick one that suits you.

Yes, it may be nice to buy one of those fancy dream journals that are marketed as such. But you may get it and spend money on something you really didn’t like. So go with what suits you and makes you comfortable.

Prepare yourself and your place.

Avoid anything strenuous before bed and avoid anything that might disrupt your sleep cycle. If you are a tidy type and need a clean room, then tidy before bed. Be sure the room is the right temperature for you and get into something cozy. You may be too lazy to do so but this will help your sleep and your remembrance of detail. It will also make sure you won’t be distracted by small annoying things.

Place the journal near you when you sleep.

Also, keep a pen! If you wake up at night you can write it ASAP.

Before going to bed, open to a new page.

Note where you are and where you live, the date, the time, etc. Leave a space at the top so you can title it later depending on the dream you had. Summarize all events of that day you can think of and write down your reminder phrase! It is optional if you want to include your mood and your health state. Before going to bed, repeat your reminder phrase

Upon Waking Up

Set your clock 15 minutes earlier than your normal wake time. This gives you more time to write your details. If possible, wake up to classical music or radio. Alarms cause sudden noises and sudden noises have been proven to make you forget dream memory upon waking up. As you begin to wake up, lie down, and keep your eyes shut. This will help “cement” the details into your subconscious. (Supposedly.) Without trying to change or manipulate any thoughts, try to recall the details of your dream When you feel comfortable enough, start writing anything you remember. Write in the present tense. Try to relive the dream as you write it. You can start anywhere in the dream, even go backward. The more important aspect is keeping somewhere to relive. Once you finished you should write the time you woke up and choose a title. Assigning a title and table of contents will help your mind's ability to make connections.

Dreamwork during the day

If you couldn’t recall your dream, take some time (when you can) to write about what your day as if it were a dream. Just like what we mentioned above. To “enhanced” this exercise you can imagine that you really did recall something. For example (come from the book): “I awake with a vague feeling of having been in a sunny place. There are brightness and warmth.”

Dream Incubation. What is it? And how do I use it?

Around the world there are places called “Dream temples” These temples were made in the honor of Asklepios, the god of healing. Snakes were allowed to move freely around these temples because it was believed they were secret symbols to evoke the powers of gods. As you may know, there is a popular symbol of snakes. The Caduceus! It’s two snakes wrapped around a staff. This is mainly based on the symbolism that snakes are “healers.” Both emotional and physical. Dream temples were most often placed in a rural area away from loud places. Many people would travel, even from long distances, to stay in these places to receive answers or enlightenment. These temples had a set intention for visitors/seekers to clarify the outcome they wanted. Because of the focus and encouragement received from the temples, it’s said it’s not unusual to receive the specific message they looked for. Not all cultures and places had these temples, but it didn’t stop them from Dream Incubation. (More on that in a minute). The Egyptians wrote the questions they wanted on linen and tied it around the wrist while meditating. Some soaked it in oil and burned it with incense while praying. Then they went to sleep, expecting the answer.

As you know, these days you can’t go to your local supermarket and pass by a dream temple. But, dream incubation is still widely practiced. People still to this day to "program" their dreams.

Your Temple

When trying to induce your routine to practice dream incubation, it can be simple or complex. Whatever you find comfortable. The temple of yours can be anywhere you find comfortable and where you are willing to practice the routine. (Such as writing, scripting, daydreaming, etc). But the main idea is to focus on your desired message.

Here are a few steps:

•Choose your phrase

•Form a clear intention

•Prepare your mind

•Get comfy

•Relax

•Visualize your dream’s solution (Ex: reading it, having the advice handed to you, seeing the answer played out in your very own personal “dream drama.”)

•Think about your reaction to the answer

Incubating dreams

When incubating your dreams you need a pre-set idea. Where do you want to be? In what way do you want your answer given? What symbols represent this? Afterward, start daydreaming about it, try to feel whatever it is that would be around you. Choose phrases that will affirm that it’s what you will dream of. Repeat that as many times possible. Often reflect on how it would feel being there and when you wake up and log as usual. But because you are programming this yourself - there may be nothing to interpret. But it will induce what you wanted to see. (A/N. As I’m reading this book and typing these notes I'm realizing how close they were to figuring out the shifting process. I-. Bye-). But take this moment to think through what happened, there may have been a messaged slipped in.

Lucid Dreams (Fun Fact!)

Believe it or not, the earliest record of lucid dreaming was recorded in the 4th century B.C. This happened when Aristotle, himself, was writing his work ‘On Dreams.’ He said quote on quote “For often when one is asleep, there is something in consciousness which declares that what then presents itself is but a dream.” In 1867 Hervey de Saint-Denys wrote “Dreams and How to Guide Them.” This book was intended to show you the techniques he used to achieve a state of realization.

To Lucid Dream

When you lucid dream, you can do anything you please when you realize it is nothing but a dream. So how can you tell if it's a lucid dream? How do you lucid dream? Well, there are multiple ways.

Record it.

Record what you remember. Like we talked about with a dream journal.

Power of suggestion.

Even a simple phrase that “I am aware I am dreaming.” Is simple enough! Repeat this during the day and at night.

Checking your reality.

A commonly favored thing is “reality checks.” This requires you to test your surroundings and ask if they are real or not. If you notice something is off, it’s possible you once played it off. But if you looked closer, it was a dream.

Look for inconsistencies.

It’s found that a few things do not remain consistent in a dream. For example lights, watches, the time, sounds, etc. Because these changes are not normal, you know it’s just a dream.

Now that there are tips to know if you’re in a dream; Here are some to help you practice lucid dreaming/become in the state.

Visualize your everyday life (when awake) like a dream! Convince yourself as every small thing is just a dream. Whenever you’re doing something, take a look around and think of it as a dream. Believe that everything you do can be changed because you will it. Daydreaming the small things have changed will help as well. The tree outside? It’s not dead. It’s in full bloom! These practices are intended to help you make conscious and unconscious choices.

[lunartflare64]

Here we go! Original idea 2! Whoop!

Let's start with the world. This is thousands of years after the Earth is swallowed up by the sun, humans left on a large ship that can support many generations to find a new planet. They finally arrive on a planet much bigger than Earth, which is also much further from the sun than Earth was. To make matters more difficult this planet relies heavily on sunlight, which lead to it developing sentience (sort of) in order to have better control and access to sunlight.

The planet learned that moving life can have much better access to sunlight than plants, and so it made a connection to larger creatures, indigenous to the planet or no. These creatures walk the land of the planet and keep up with the sunlight, and in return the planet shares a portion of the sun's vitamins and nutrition from the planet itself. On top of that, foreign creatures who want to stay but can't breathe the air are given their own breathable air, given some time for trial and error to figure out what they need to breathe.

With the majority of the planet being in ultimate darkness 90% of the time, bioluminescence became very popular for the planet and it's inhabitants. It keeps the creatures with eyes made for the day happy, sane, and alive.

Back to the humans, they finally come to this planet, ready to terraform it and move in, but when they find the thriving life the humans become divided, most wanting to terraform, but some wanting to live on the planet the way it is. The terraformers consider the planet's symbiosis to be parasitic, that the planet is taking more than it's fair share and that it could easily possess you, controlling your thoughts and convincing you that the planet means no harm. Obviously the terraformers consider everyone against them to be possessed already. The supporters of the planet on the other hand are seeing other creatures come to this planet and live healthy and happily, and know that killing this life is wrong.

And now we have Imani (last name still being worked on, I haven't found any sites with a proper list of African surnames, I've read that names are very important in Africa so I also want to find the right last name that suits her and her family), she's a planet supporter, on the ship she worked with her father on making plans to terraform their new home, but the life on the planet quickly changed her mind. Her father on the other hand is a firm terraformer, when he realized that his daughter had been "possessed" he grew distant from her, and eventually they cut off contact altogether.

Years passed, and one day while her father was clearing out the land he came across a tribe of creatures, and found his daughter among them, fully "possessed" and one with the planet. With her was a child, half human and half alien, the father was another foreigner who had become one with the planet. Imani and her partner were the leaders of their tribe, making sure everyone was correctly connected to the planet and keeping everyone moving with the sunlight.

Imani's father decided to reconnect with his daughter, and allowed her to talk about her life with the planet and the tribe. She tells him about how the tribe felt like a family, about how they liked to play a lot of games in the sun, how they helped newcomers settle in, and how much she looked forward to the day they'd meet and he'd understand that the planet really does mean no harm. They (him, Imani, and her baby daughter) went out for a walk to talk one day, and once they were far enough from the tribe, he turns to Imani, who is talking about how the planet likes to put on light shows, and he kills her. He sprays her with salt water to kill her connection to the planet and then stabs her to kill her actual body. He cleans the blood off the baby and takes her back to the village, telling them that Imani died from a lack of nutrients from the planet.

As the baby grows, he frequently visits the tribe, feeding her mind with lies about the planet and her connection with it. Planning to destroy the planet from the inside out with one of it's own trusted locals.

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And that's all I've got so far! To be honest this all came in a dream over the weekend, what most stands out in my memory is him killing Imani, she begs him to understand how wrong his choices are as she dies, she doesn't even focus on him killing her, she just wants him to stop for the tribe and the planet's sake. She was so sure that she could change his mind, even after he stabbed her, I woke up crying.

Now, this is my first time trying to draw a human in general, so please take it easy on me if there are problems, especially with her skin, I did my best to find tutorials but there weren't as many as there were for white people. Imani appeared in my dream as a black woman so I'm going to stick to that even if I don't know how to draw people in general yet. I'm not going to whitewash my own dream.

Are you ready for the list of things I researched just while drawing this?

Symbiosis in bioluminescence

Mutualistic symbiosis

Chlorophyll

Chlorophyll in wood

Africa

Swahili names

African last names (because from what I've gathered they speak their last names with the same pronunciation, still didn't get me much results)

A lot of mini searches to get the words for the above searches (I'm a highschool dropout what do you want from me)

Also, sorry I assaulted your dash, I'm on the mobile app, I don't have that cut thingy

[jorjathomas]

Comparing existing magazines

As I've began to do some mild research, I thought it was beneficial to gather some information regarding my intended audience. I should see if there's a gap in the market for this particular self help magazine or if it would be high in demand or not. In this post, I have compared old magazines that were published for young women to see what has changed and what particular topics have became more popular over the years. Obviously magazines aren't as popular anymore for teens as most people would pick up a phone and scroll to kill time rather than buy a magazine from your local store however, I'm interested to see the comparison between the two. 

Old vs New

At first, I was going to compare two magazines and analyse the differences however as I started to do some research, I thought it would be interesting to see how certain magazines which have been running for a long period have changed over time as digital journalism has grown. I will contrast these brands with zine businesses which suits my idea.

Tiger Beat:

Google states ’Tiger Beat was founded in September 1965 by Charles "Chuck" Laufer, his brother Ira Laufer, and television producer and host Lloyd Thaxton. The magazine features teen idol gossip and carries articles on movies , music and fashion.’ This magazine is aimed towards adolesant girls just like my idea which is interesting to see the differences. Its funny to see how young women were perceived from looking as this magazines as they seem very celebrity based. As Tiger Beat is created by men, I'm assuming this is what they think teenage girls think about. I would say in the 60s this was true as boy bands where the hot spot for screaming girls however personally having a magazine just to get in the celebrity gossip is draining. The 60s was a very pivotal time for music and musicians didn't have a massive social platform like most artists do now so having a magazine like this is where fans would get updates about their lives. I think my opinions about Tiger Beat are solely based on how this generation has changed, I've defiantly bought zines just like this if it has my idol on the front however when looking at certain quotations and how its predominantly males being displayed despite being for girls is strange to me. For example the third image on the right where it advertised a ‘Peek inside Justin Biebers room’.  Not only does this feed on the artists personal life but it heightens this concept of teenagers becoming a obsessive fan. when looking at this magazine I begin to question whether this sort of content is normal for teenagers or am I just conditioned to believe it is what I should be thinking about as a teenage girl? Its even more ironic that this is made by men aswell but I don't know if that's the activist in me. To conclude, there was defiantly a gap in the market for supporting young adults when entering the real world as you can see. 

Teen zone:

Again, continuing with my previous opinions Teen Zone had the same intentions for their audience. Looking back at their earlier issues, it mas predominantly celebrity based. This involves gossip, looks and updates in their ‘perfect’ lives. This defiantly increased the idea of needing to be famous and look good all the time in order to be successful or good in life. These magazines are full of photoshopped faces with content telling people that they could look a certain way to feel accepted. Although looking briefly at the magazines are harmless I think they can be deep rooting in the problems girls feel in society when growing up. The only difference with this magazine in comparison to Tiger Beat is that they are still running as a business and have changed their content significantly. Teen zone only publish online now and when researching into their content i was surprised when seeing their statement. It states ‘TeenZone Digital Magazine is a magazine for the South African teenager. Teens in today’s society are increasingly being fed a diet entirely consisting of celebrity gossip. This grossly underestimates them. Teens today have voices that we all need to hear. They need to be taken seriously, and to be given the opportunity to express their views and concerns; to ask the important questions and receive trustworthy, accurate advice; and to enjoy themselves in a safe environment. TeenZone seeks to provide this platform. It is a magazine for teens, by teens.’ 

Teens in society now are much more vocal on certain events and I think we are defiantly becoming more aware on subjects which we may have not noticed before. The fact that Teen Zone has turned this around and creating a platform for teens to speak on matters special to them in inspiring and what I want to do also. They've defiantly succeeded well since moving digital as articles are much more accessible than a printed zine.

This is a picture of their website which differs from their zine. They have toned down their imagery and noticed as they are able to add more content onto a site.

As i began to look further into popular magazines from particular decades, eg; teen vogue, J-14 etc, I began to see the same results and outcomes. They were all very similar in content but I was surprised to finally see a magazine which although was produced a little later than the others, was drastically different to the others. Both aesthetically and within their content. This was a magazine called Rookie.

Rookie:

What makes Rookie magazine so different to the others is that this business was created by teenagers for teenagers. They are much more closer to their audience and were able to relate to the content they were giving out. Rather than adults profiting of their perception of what a teenager goes through despite not being one. I personally can see the differences between the two. Firstly Rookie stood out to me because of its collage-like personality. Its much more playful and personal than the previous zines I've looked at. The layered imagery with colourful texture achieves this friendly environment for teenagers to read though. I defiantly want to achieve this with my zine and I am going to look into this sort of work digitally and also physically to achieve a dimensional look rather than all of my work looking flat or 2D. 

This is a screenshot of Rookies site. Not only do they produce articles that teens can read for pleasure or to gain information, they also have platforms that can actually gives teens a place to talk and interact with others which I think is the drastic change for the industry. Interacting with the audience on a personal level proves that Rookie cares for their audience and wants to spark change. Unfortunately Rookie has stop publishing altogether as a business since 2018 for financial reasons.

Other magazines that I am interested in: As I've looked into previous magazines and began to understand their concept and beliefs,  I began to look into modern magazines that also produce the same concept as me and to see what makes them so different especially since there has been a massive sift in the journalism industry. Both of the publications below are fairly similar. Both want to create change and form a safe space where women learn new subjects which may not be normalise yet are very important for personal growth. They both combine their articles with art which helps create a visual understanding of their zine even better than standard text. I defiantly aim to follow these footsteps but I need to search for an unique concept that could help my idea become more popular for a young girl to read. I wanted to this as sadly both of these zines are either discontinued or temporality stopped making issues which makes me assume this idea isn't that successful so far whether that's due to the pandemic or society as a whole I'm unsure as of yet. I will begin to look at the impact of Covid on magazines later to understand why so many of these great businesses aren't running anymore despite having a positive impact on young women.

Got a girl crush:  “Got a Girl Crush is a blog and annual print magazine about women, by women, for everyone. We aim to disrupt the broken narrative of most women's publications and tell stories of all ages, races, and backgrounds of women all over the world. We believe that print is not dead and that there is value to having a tangible medium to read, digest, and share--rather than sharing a link online that is easily forgotten tomorrow.”

(Issue 3, published September 2016 from https://issuu.com/gotagirlcrush/docs/girlcrush_issue05_content-final )

I liked this magazine statement because it isn't restrictive on a specific audience. They mention that their content is open for anyone which I think is surprising. When thinking about making this zine I wanted to think of content that isn't too limiting or biased towards women as I think the real change in society will have to come from men's views and actions aswell as women's. When looking at their monthly articles, it was very text heavy. They had many important figures like planetary scientist Carolyn Porco, human rights activist Grace Lee Bogg menstrual activist & drummer Kiran Gandhi etc. Each had powerful stories to tell and impact onto readers. Despite this the illustrations and other visual forms of art broke down this barrier which is why it didn't look too overwhelming. I will follow through with this if not add more art into my final outcome as I’d like to be more creative for this project and really experiment with collaging. I had briefly did this in the first project and enjoyed the process.

Selva Beat: “Selva Beat is an environmental magazine with an edge. We take environmentalism and place it in the context of your favorite topics – beauty, fashion, culture, food, sex, love – to make activism as accessible and engaging as possible. Founded in 2014, we began as a way of educating the public about conflict palm-oil and have expanded into a multi-media platform that motivates others to better the planet through creative means.”

A magazines visual décor is very important as sadly you do judge the book by the front cover. Initially, this is what I liked about Selva Beat, it was very colourful and they had nice curvy, bubbled typography which isn't that common on magazines. When researching I didn't realise they were very environmentally orientated aswell as being a conscious feminist magazine. I was saddened that they aren't running anymore as I think this magazine would've been a good pivotal point. 

[mem-en-to]

I just have to post this somewhere. If you do read it please don't reply or anything to alert me that you do. I just have to assure myself of my existence. If you do I might just can't stand it.

It's getting worse

I don't know if this will be a one time thing or what

It might be the stress of starting the second week of university

or that I fucked up the dorm's microwave 3 days ago and still feel guilty and stress (since then I've been making so many mistake I drop the alcohol bottle(broke it), drop a glass of water(luckily it's a plastic glass), spilled the milk on the desk, spilled the smoothie next to the fridge, dropped the clean towel on the balcony(result in having to wash it), tripped and drop some clean cottonbuds(such a waste!), tripped on the way to the bathroom at 2 am and woke the neighbors up on a schoolday)

or even home sick from being away for a week now

or because I was staying inside after graduated and then the covid situation that make me(I chose)stay inside the house for more than 3 months straight(well, I did go outside like once every other week or sth, but I would always go with someone, mom or dad)

I've been dreading going outside since yesterday

I estimated how many food I have left and feel bad(no not bad as in guilty) about having to go out and buy more

I even considered skip some meals and ration what I have left so I could put away going out for even just 1 more day

And I did, I skip breakfast and ration the food

I ate a bit less so I could scrap all the left over for just one more meal

The thought of going outside turned my stomach and I feel tight in my chest

it made me feel.. disgust and a bit of fear? มวนท้อง แหยงๆ อึดอัดตรงหน้าอก

I'm not sure how to describe it how or why

I don't think its talking to people that make me feel this way

I think its just go outside in general? being seen maybe?

I normally would dread going outside for a bit but have no problem in doing it

I would just need some times to come to realisation that I have to(or about to)go outside

Like, if mom just ask me inthe morning if I want to go out this afternoon. My answer is NO. There's no bargaining, except if it is ABSOLUTELY IMPORTANT.

But If she asked me, do you want to come with me tmr? That'll be fine, I might say yes(but I say no more often)

I would have a kind of panic-y thougt and feeling a bit scared before actually going out, like while I was preparing(dress, grab things stuff like that) that is normal

Today it took me almost half an hour after I'm ready to gather courage and actually step out of my room

In that 30 minutes I kept checking again and again of what I have to buy and did I have my all things?(phone checked. wallet checked. mask checked. etc) What about my clothes?(check the mirror) Did I brushed my hair?(proceed to brush it the 4th time)

All the while I also pacing and kept on checking the window for the restaurant near mydorm

It's to see if there're many customers, if there are I would wait a bit more because I don't want to stand around waiting and making awkward glance, an awkward conversation would be better come to think of it.

There. It's not the talking that I'm scared of.

After I got outside I would feel.. tense? anxious? or maybe paranoid or something of that nature I'm not sure

But the feeling would go away soon, often around the time I reach my destination or when I'm doing my task(like choosing btw different brand of groceries or the like)

It's still good, this time

The feeling went away as I was walking around the shop but come back as soon as I got in line, paid and walking out of the shop, which is fine that's also normal

I also have to stop at the restaurant on the next block, I decided to eat there and have a take away for dinner

I chose to eat there because that would mean less plastic you know? doing what I can to help with global warming

Even though the thought of sitting there was a bit.. sick It was fine while I was eating

Because I was doing my task(things)?

But the moment I turned away with a bag of food and my groceries in hand the feeling started to crawl up my spine and tried to curl up in my stomach again

But It's okay I didn't let it

My dorm was right there I could see it

Only a bit further and I'll be safe inside my dorm

But Nooooo

The feeling cling to me

I push it down and didn't let it settle in

My heart was still thudding in my chest even after I got inside my room

I put my things away. stored the food. changed clothes while checking if I breathed normally or not(I did, breated normally I mean or at least I think I did, despite what most people think some of us do research about thingss like this even if or when we haven't been diagnosed as having something plus I did hyperventilated/had panic attacked before or, I think it was)

But after that my heart still wouldn't return to normal and my head is a bit light and spinny still(At first I thought it was the 3 flight of stairs I have to climb but it should have gone by now, I know, not an athletic person)

That was when I realise that there something different, something wrong this time

The nagging feeling I have had since I walked outside is this

I'm more worried and scared this time

There is something wrong

I don't know what to do so I typed this down

Normally It would help make me feel better

And It did, my heart stop beating fast and weird halfway through this

Like my other notes I didn't care much about the grammar or whatever, after all the purpose is to make myself feel better

All right a bit more on this notes

After I finished this I wnt and google 'scared of going outside'

I don't think it agoraphobia or sad that I have although I do have some of the symptomps. I mean I might have one of it but from what I read I don't exactly match with some of both, I'm not scared of crowd(sad) in fact being in crowds make me feel better, the more people the better cuz that mean the less would be looking at me

And I'm not scared of open space(agora) I'm okay with parking lots and I'm not scared of being left alone(agora)

Being with some one I trust would definitely help(contradict with sad but agree with agora)

I'm not scared of public place(sad), Library is one of my sanctuary once I settled in on the new one that's it, Everyone is minding their own business, I could tuck myself btw some old textbook shelves no one would come search and read in silent, peace. Or I could go to the working space, sit on the sofa or choose one of the table and no one would care even if I have 3 thick books with me and sit there for 3 hours straight. I could even strike up some friendly and relatively non-awkward conversation with the librarian on the counter when I checked out some books, there, social requirement of the day complete. Those days that I could do this is so peaceful, I was happy.

Sadly, I had gone to Uni library only once and checked out a book, I still feel a bit uncomfortable to go there, but the feeling of contenment when I get inside would be worth it. Just. Not today. Or tmr, we got a day off for mother day and I might go home with my siblings and come back to next week on Monday or sth. (We have classes online bc of covid)

And after the mini research I feel a dizzy spell hit me

It left me reeling for a few mins before I returned normal

It could be because i stand up too fast or it could be the information in my head that's there something wrong

I don't want to have it, sad, agora or whatever

My self confident/self esttem is shit enough

I can't satnd it if i know there sth more wrong with me

I can't be more of a burden to my parents

I want to make them proud I have to

I choose this path and I know they don't hate it, they even support me on choosing to study art instead of the cliche doctor or engineer(which I hate but is my dad's life I feel so fucking bad I should have like it, I should be better at it and follow his footsteps, but I already made my choice, sometimes I regret it but even if I could go back I wouldn't change it, I can't At least I probably could be a teacher like him, teach younger people, support them I love him, and I hate him I love that he isn't just a good father, he's a good person, a good friend, a good teacher, a good brother, a good son, he's so great I don't deserved him, not me, not my mom, not my brother, not his parents, not his siblings, not that univerity And I hate him, he's always at work when I was younger, came home at 8or9 almost everyday but I also love him because despite that he still tried to make some time for us I hate him because when he started to have less works and came home earlier it's when me and my brother are growing up wanting to stay out and spend time with our friends(I hate myself) I hate him because he's so great, has been since he's young, he's so intelligent and diligent he studied hard and he got scholarship in uni to US And that was 40 years ago how impressive is that? And after he came back with straight A every uni want him but he choose that Uni because they supported him when he needed it and he chose to stay instead of go to better uni purely bacause he's a good person he feels grateful and want to repay the uni, which has shit government I hate it I hate them, there's a few years he's so stress because he has to go to the court several times on several cases and could go to jail because of those peice of shits I fucking hate them If he choose to change uni our lifes would be different I wouldn't grow up there, I wouldn't have friends that I have, I wouldn't be the person I am today and I can't blame him for choosing this. I hate him because no matter what or how much I tried I couldn't achieve half of what he has done and still doing(I hate myself I'm a disappointment) I could have gotten A or at least B+ if I studied more on math, science and sociology, but I didn't. I could have beautiful skin and thin figure if I take care of myself more, exercise more, but I didn't. I could have spend less money on books and those trinkets and save a lot of money, but I didn't, I could have make more friends and get in with the better connection and reputation clique if I conceal some part of myself and pretend a bit more, but I didn't. I could have better resume if I'm brave enough to participate in those tournament and those candidates for manythings, but I didn't. I could have been a better person, a better friend, a better student, a better daughter, but I wasn't[I couldn't be] I hate myself I don't matter I'm a disappointment)

I fucking hate crying, It never help with anything except wasting evenmore time and make my head hurt make my throat hurt of how I hold my noise in and make my eyes hurt and everything's blurry and wet.

I just broke down and typed those long ass paragraph with tears for an hour straigh. such a waste of time I should have done some exercise instead. And now I feel like shit. I know I could still do it but I also know that I won't. I would save this note, re-read it again and again maybe add sth along the way and when it's getting late I would jusst take a shower and goto bed.

At least I've lost my appetite, no dinner mean less calories I take today, skipped breakfast AND dinner? At least that compensate for today exercise(maybe) But I also know that garigarikun in the freeze will disappear into my stomach before bed. I'm such a little shit. I'm ashame of myself.

you know what I could waste a bit more time. Typing this some how remind me of the time I have an argument with my parents in highschool(or was it middle school? the memory's fuzzy)and I had panic attack or at least hyperveintilated afterward. I can't remember exactly what started the argument but I remembered that that day I was having a bad day(worse than normal) the bullying that day was worse I don't know how I acted I just remembered yelling at my father who's stress from long day at work and the court problem, we were yelling(or at least I am) and I did what I usually do. I ran, to the bedroom. I don't(never)want to have a fight with my family. He didn't follow me this time. My mom did. She came talk to me, half soothing half scolding. Saying I shouldn't have yell, I was hurting him by behave like this and after he's tired from work too. She's basically tried to make amend. But in my head at the time she was calling out on my bullshit. Saying I'm being unreasonable. I know that some of what she said is true and I don't want to fight so I tried talking, I said something like you don't understand me, And I tried using some difficult words and lines that could be seen in dramas and such to make her understand. I poured my heart out I even consider revealing the real extent of the bullying. But you know what she said? She said I read too many fictions and watch too many movies and I'm being too emotional I should stop this nonsense right now. I still could recall the feeling when she finished and it get in my head. It's not the ice bucket being pour over me. It's not the fire of rage running through my viens. It's not an arrow straight through my heart, a stab at the chest, or a feeling crawl up myspine. It's blank. blank. blank. blank, blank,blank,blank,blank,blakn,blank,blank, I feel so, so empty. It's just how I used my words, how I tried to make her understand. And this is what I got? I remembered stop talking and stuffed my face on a pillow. She's speaking a few more things but I didn't listen. I couldn't. I was breathing so hard but I think she think i was crying so she patted my back and left. I was old enough to know that's something's wrong I wasn't breating normally even for someone who's crying but at the time I still didn't know what panic attack/hyperveintilated is. I just know there's sth wrong, but I ignore it, I was hurt. I was in pain my chest is so tight(at the time I thought it's because of the pain I was feeling later I learned that it's the combination of that and the pa/h I was having) My thought kept circling around the words she said, I'm being dramatic and such. At least after that I don't want to argue anymore. I came back to myself and got out of the room, more than half an hour later. (Times didn't only flies when you're having a good time huh?, I remembered thinking that)

I think the being emotional/dramatic bit really got me. I can't help it. it's how I'm expressing myself. So what if it looking I was writing some fiction/ fake the words to make it mmore dramatic? That's how I feel.

A breakdown and an empty moment recalling in a day? that's a new record. Normally It would be one at a time and not this soon after one another. Guess I'm really stressed out. I even consider calling some emergencies depression lines but after reading some review saying it's shit I decided not to. I would be in the way of those who really do need it(I'm such a failure) and I'm not good at talking anyways, just look at how tragic it turned out to be each time I do.