Reading worksheets free main idea fourth grade

Howdy there! The name's PK and I'm in the market for a Bleach roleplay.
Usually, I'm more open to allowing people to play whatever character they'd like - OCs in particular - but I'm in the mood for something a bit different this time; I'm looking for someone who's willing to play Momo Hinamori.
I do intend on playing an OC myself and I apologize for the hypocrisy. My character is male, a fellow Lieutenant, and he has already has a crush on her from the start. I like the idea that everyone but Hinamori herself knows, there's just something funny about the idea of her being oblivious to something so obvious. As you might expect, I'm leaning towards an eventual romantic angle between our two characters - something slow, natural and built up over time - that happens between all the action and adventure.
I've constructed a more singular and short-term plot that differs from some of my other ideas that are based in the Bleach universe and I'll give you very a brief plot synopsis:

A group of assailants calling themselves the Remnants of Aizen have appeared and are declaring war against the Soul Society. Their goal is simple: to free Sōsuke Aizen from his prison and reinstate him and the one, true ruler of this world.

I'm interested in someone who really knows, understands and respects her character. I'd like to explore her as someone who's worked through the trauma of what happened to her, but still has the physical and mental scars from the ordeal, and how it effected her... and how this plot will continue to effect her. So long as you don't boil her down to "still an Aizen simp years later", I'm probably not going to complain about the way you play her.
The setting is supposed to be post-series but the events of Thousand Year Blood War arc are mostly inconsequential to this plot, so anime-only fans don't have to worry! There will be a couple of canon characters who are missing from the Gotei 13 roster but don't worry - you can consider that the result of this being an AU rather than anything to do with canon. There are no spoilers here, I promise!
That being said - the more knowledge you have of the series and supplementary materials, the better! I have ideas to incorporate that based on CFYOW as well as other light novels and short stories, but they will not be exactly the same.
Anyways, if this sounds at all up your alley go ahead and shoot me a message - preferably of the envelope variety! These are my guidelines:

• I'm an adult. Therefore I am not interested in roleplaying with anyone under the age of 18. Nothing personal to any of you kids out there, I'm just not comfortable with doing one-on-one roleplays with anybody who's not an adult for what I hope are obvious reasons.
• I'm looking for paragraph-style, third-person responses. If you can't do that, I'm sorry, but I'm probably not interested in doing roleplaying with you.
• Length and descriptions can fluctuate. I'm not expecting you to summon your inner Stephen King and crank out a novel every time you write to me, and honestly I probably won't be able to do the same for you. As long as you put some degree of effort into your posts, I'm okay with that.
• If you're really interested in this, I'd suggest sending me more than just a generic "hey, I saw your post and I'm interested!" message. I honestly tend to ignore those kinds of messages. Tell me a little bit about yourself and your interests, like how much you enjoyed the series! Or other series that you've enjoyed over the years! Or your roleplaying experiences! You don't have to tell me your entire life story or write your entire manifesto, but anything besides just a one-sentence "hello, I'm interested" is much appreciated and will most likely go a lot further. Yes, even if it's just two sentences :b You're free to include any contact information within your introduction too because I'll probably be sending mine with the response.
• If you've actually read all of this, please put "Dilly Dally" as your message subject. It'll help me sort out the people who read this from the people who didn't!
• I'm not looking for just a roleplay partner, I would like to be friends too! I think a roleplay is much more interesting when you interact with and befriend the person(s) you're playing with. It especially helps when it comes to activity and world building. If you want to keep our relationship professional though, that's fine too.
• I absolutely do not expect multiple responses a day, or even a single response a day, because I can't even promise that myself. Sometimes you hit weird moods or life gets in the way and that's fine! Nor do I care how long these moods last - I get it, finding the mojo to reply can take time. I'm no stranger to going weeks without replying myself. However, I would prefer that we let each other know if we aren't going to reply for a while or if we're having a hard time coming up with a response.
• I'm an old-school forum roleplayer so that's the platform I'm used to i'm so old rip. That being said, Discord is obviously the most convenient way to roleplay these days and my posts often break the character limit and require multiple messages as a result. I'm also open to roleplaying through e-mail, on forums (if those are still a thing lmao) or even on here in the DMs! I may be open to GoogleDocs, if you're willing to be patient with me and help me learn how to do it.

Howdy there! The name's PK and I'm in the market for a Bleach roleplay.
Usually, I'm more open to allowing people to play whatever character they'd like - OCs in particular - but I'm in the mood for something a bit different this time; I'm looking for someone who's willing to play Momo Hinamori.
I do intend on playing an OC myself and I apologize for the hypocrisy. My character is male, a fellow Lieutenant, and he has already has a crush on her from the start. I like the idea that everyone but Hinamori herself knows, there's just something funny about the idea of her being oblivious to something so obvious. As you might expect, I'm leaning towards an eventual romantic angle between our two characters - something slow, natural and built up over time - that happens between all the action and adventure.
I've constructed a more singular and short-term plot that differs from some of my other ideas that are based in the Bleach universe and I'll give you very a brief plot synopsis:

A group of assailants calling themselves the Remnants of Aizen have appeared and are declaring war against the Soul Society. Their goal is simple: to free Sōsuke Aizen from his prison and reinstate him and the one, true ruler of this world.

I'm interested in someone who really knows, understands and respects her character. I'd like to explore her as someone who's worked through the trauma of what happened to her, but still has the physical and mental scars from the ordeal, and how it effected her... and how this plot will continue to effect her. So long as you don't boil her down to "still an Aizen simp years later", I'm probably not going to complain about the way you play her.
The setting is supposed to be post-series but the events of Thousand Year Blood War arc are mostly inconsequential to this plot, so anime-only fans don't have to worry! There will be a couple of canon characters who are missing from the Gotei 13 roster but don't worry - you can consider that the result of this being an AU rather than anything to do with canon. There are no spoilers here, I promise!
That being said - the more knowledge you have of the series and supplementary materials, the better! I have ideas to incorporate that based on CFYOW as well as other light novels and short stories, but they will not be exactly the same.
Anyways, if this sounds at all up your alley go ahead and shoot me a message - preferably of the envelope variety! These are my guidelines:

• I'm an adult. Therefore I am not interested in roleplaying with anyone under the age of 18. Nothing personal to any of you kids out there, I'm just not comfortable with doing one-on-one roleplays with anybody who's not an adult for what I hope are obvious reasons.
• I'm looking for paragraph-style, third-person responses. If you can't do that, I'm sorry, but I'm probably not interested in doing roleplaying with you.
• Length and descriptions can fluctuate. I'm not expecting you to summon your inner Stephen King and crank out a novel every time you write to me, and honestly I probably won't be able to do the same for you. As long as you put some degree of effort into your posts, I'm okay with that.
• If you're really interested in this, I'd suggest sending me more than just a generic "hey, I saw your post and I'm interested!" message. I honestly tend to ignore those kinds of messages. Tell me a little bit about yourself and your interests, like how much you enjoyed the series! Or other series that you've enjoyed over the years! Or your roleplaying experiences! You don't have to tell me your entire life story or write your entire manifesto, but anything besides just a one-sentence "hello, I'm interested" is much appreciated and will most likely go a lot further. Yes, even if it's just two sentences :b You're free to include any contact information within your introduction too because I'll probably be sending mine with the response.
• If you've actually read all of this, please put "Dilly Dally" as your message subject. It'll help me sort out the people who read this from the people who didn't!
• I'm not looking for just a roleplay partner, I would like to be friends too! I think a roleplay is much more interesting when you interact with and befriend the person(s) you're playing with. It especially helps when it comes to activity and world building. If you want to keep our relationship professional though, that's fine too.
• I absolutely do not expect multiple responses a day, or even a single response a day, because I can't even promise that myself. Sometimes you hit weird moods or life gets in the way and that's fine! Nor do I care how long these moods last - I get it, finding the mojo to reply can take time. I'm no stranger to going weeks without replying myself. However, I would prefer that we let each other know if we aren't going to reply for a while or if we're having a hard time coming up with a response.
• I'm an old-school forum roleplayer so that's the platform I'm used to i'm so old rip. That being said, Discord is obviously the most convenient way to roleplay these days and my posts often break the character limit and require multiple messages as a result. I'm also open to roleplaying through e-mail, on forums (if those are still a thing lmao) or even on here in the DMs! I may be open to GoogleDocs, if you're willing to be patient with me and help me learn how to do it.

Howdy there! The name's PK and I'm in the market for a Bleach roleplay.
Usually, I'm more open to allowing people to play whatever character they'd like - OCs in particular - but I'm in the mood for something a bit different this time; I'm looking for someone who's willing to play Momo Hinamori.
I do intend on playing an OC myself and I apologize for the hypocrisy. My character is male, a fellow Lieutenant, and he has already has a crush on her from the start. I like the idea that everyone but Hinamori herself knows, there's just something funny about the idea of her being oblivious to something so obvious. As you might expect, I'm leaning towards an eventual romantic angle between our two characters - something slow, natural and built up over time - that happens between all the action and adventure.
I've constructed a more singular and short-term plot that differs from some of my other ideas that are based in the Bleach universe and I'll give you very a brief plot synopsis:

A group of assailants calling themselves the Remnants of Aizen have appeared and are declaring war against the Soul Society. Their goal is simple: to free Sōsuke Aizen from his prison and reinstate him and the one, true ruler of this world.

I'm interested in someone who really knows, understands and respects her character. I'd like to explore her as someone who's worked through the trauma of what happened to her, but still has the physical and mental scars from the ordeal, and how it effected her... and how this plot will continue to effect her. So long as you don't boil her down to "still an Aizen simp years later", I'm probably not going to complain about the way you play her.
The setting is supposed to be post-series but the events of Thousand Year Blood War arc are mostly inconsequential to this plot, so anime-only fans don't have to worry! There will be a couple of canon characters who are missing from the Gotei 13 roster but don't worry - you can consider that the result of this being an AU rather than anything to do with canon. There are no spoilers here, I promise!
That being said - the more knowledge you have of the series and supplementary materials, the better! I have ideas to incorporate that based on CFYOW as well as other light novels and short stories, but they will not be exactly the same.
Anyways, if this sounds at all up your alley go ahead and shoot me a message - preferably of the envelope variety! These are my guidelines:

• I'm an adult. Therefore I am not interested in roleplaying with anyone under the age of 18. Nothing personal to any of you kids out there, I'm just not comfortable with doing one-on-one roleplays with anybody who's not an adult for what I hope are obvious reasons.
• I'm looking for paragraph-style, third-person responses. If you can't do that, I'm sorry, but I'm probably not interested in doing roleplaying with you.
• Length and descriptions can fluctuate. I'm not expecting you to summon your inner Stephen King and crank out a novel every time you write to me, and honestly I probably won't be able to do the same for you. As long as you put some degree of effort into your posts, I'm okay with that.
• If you're really interested in this, I'd suggest sending me more than just a generic "hey, I saw your post and I'm interested!" message. I honestly tend to ignore those kinds of messages. Tell me a little bit about yourself and your interests, like how much you enjoyed the series! Or other series that you've enjoyed over the years! Or your roleplaying experiences! You don't have to tell me your entire life story or write your entire manifesto, but anything besides just a one-sentence "hello, I'm interested" is much appreciated and will most likely go a lot further. Yes, even if it's just two sentences :b You're free to include any contact information within your introduction too because I'll probably be sending mine with the response.
• If you've actually read all of this, please put "Dilly Dally" as your message subject. It'll help me sort out the people who read this from the people who didn't!
• I'm not looking for just a roleplay partner, I would like to be friends too! I think a roleplay is much more interesting when you interact with and befriend the person(s) you're playing with. It especially helps when it comes to activity and world building. If you want to keep our relationship professional though, that's fine too.
• I absolutely do not expect multiple responses a day, or even a single response a day, because I can't even promise that myself. Sometimes you hit weird moods or life gets in the way and that's fine! Nor do I care how long these moods last - I get it, finding the mojo to reply can take time. I'm no stranger to going weeks without replying myself. However, I would prefer that we let each other know if we aren't going to reply for a while or if we're having a hard time coming up with a response.
• I'm an old-school forum roleplayer so that's the platform I'm used to i'm so old rip. That being said, Discord is obviously the most convenient way to roleplay these days and my posts often break the character limit and require multiple messages as a result. I'm also open to roleplaying through e-mail, on forums (if those are still a thing lmao) or even on here in the DMs! I may be open to GoogleDocs, if you're willing to be patient with me and help me learn how to do it.

Previous Posts
Grayson kept his promise and came over to talk with me. He arrived after classes for both of us were done for the day. It also meant that Cassie was home and this time, she didn’t vanish into her bedroom to give us privacy. She waited until we were both seated in the living room and Titanosaur was settled in Grayson’s lap, thereby preventing him from escaping.
Please don’t read too much into that, as I’ve said before Titanosaur has like three brain cells and will sit in literally anyone’s lap. Our landlady sent her husband over to fix the leaking faucet in the bathroom and Titan was trying to climb in his lap while the poor guy was sitting there with half his body inside of a cabinet.
Then Cassie came over, carrying a chair from the kitchen, and also seated herself with us. I glanced at Grayson. He looked dismayed, but was hiding it well in an effort to be polite. I decided to lean into my non-confrontational side and not ask her to leave.
“You’ve been acting a bit out of character lately,” I began delicately. “As a friend, I’m worried about you.”
“And I’m worried too,” Cassie added. “Maybe you don’t think of me as a friend, but you’ve been hanging out around Ashley enough that I consider you one of mine.”
Huh. I wasn’t expecting that, to be honest. I thought Cassie didn’t like him. I don’t think she was lying, either.
“Have you considered getting grief counseling?” she continued.
Straight to the point. I was glad Cassie was there. My plan was to tiptoe delicately around the subject for what probably would have been another 500 words worth of dialogue here in this post I’m writing up. Fortunately, Cassie’s willingness to address a problem directly saved me the typing and you the tedium.
“Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t,” Grayson said. “The university doesn’t know he’s gone yet.”
“Who is running this place?” Cassie asked in amazement.
I know. We’ve all been thinking it. Turns out the answer is ‘there’s a board’ and they make all the real decisions. The president is just a figurehead. Which is pretty obvious if you stop and think about it. I wanted to ask if the flickering man reported to the board but I also didn’t want to derail the conversation with things that really didn’t matter anymore. It’s safer to just assume the board is the administration I’ve been wondering about this whole time. Heck, it’s safer to assume everyone except for the students and professors are responsible in some part for the whole monster situation.
Sorry for not finding out for certain, but Grayson was working through some important stuff and I didn’t dare interrupt.
“I don’t want counseling, either,” he continued. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I never cared for him. Not in a familial sense. My presence was more to fill a role.”
Things were starting to connect in my head. This conversation reminded me of some things the flickering man had said. Roles to be filled. A cycle, ushering in new students to fill them. They’d been filling the president’s role with a corpse - a very old one, judging by the date on the photo Cassie took of the headstone - so perhaps that wasn’t the only role being filled.
“Were you adopted?” I asked. “By the president?”
“I was.”
Beside me, Cassie took a deep breath. It wasn’t from shock. It sounded more like… annoyance. If I’m being generous with the term.
“The flickering man said something to me,” I said slowly. “That I wasn’t the first person he’d seen like this and I wouldn’t be the last. Are you… not the only child that the president has adopted?”
“...I’m not.”
This is the point where Cassie just lost it. Stood up, yelled ‘why the fuck didn’t you tell us any of this?!’ and stormed out of the room. She slammed the door to her bedroom shut behind her. Grayson and I sat there in the living room for a good minute, stunned, listening to what I’m 99% certain was Cassie screaming into her pillow. Then the door opened and she returned to calmly sit down on the sofa again.
“I’m good,” she said. “All better. Please continue.”
The details of the conversation get a little fuzzy at this point, as it seems that even though the forgetter is gone I’m still having memory issues. Unfortunately Grayson was right - it wasn’t the forgetter that was responsible for my particular variety of memory loss. There’s something else trying to protect Grayson.
I suspect the tree in the graveyard. Its roots have spread all over campus, after all.
Sorry to be so blase about this but it’s not actually that upsetting anymore. It’s just this thing we’re dealing with.
It’s a good thing Cassie was present for the rest of the conversation. She filled me in on the details later, after we’d confirmed that I had some significant gaps. Grayson explained a bit more about the whole adoption thing. He didn’t know who his birth parents were. He’d never been outside of this town and basically grew up on campus. This is all kind of recapping what we already knew or guessed at, but the adoption angle was new at least. I’d assumed that his dad had died and been replaced, which he had, except it wasn’t his dad at all and Grayson’s role as the son was being replaced over and over also.
Which is all kinds of fucked up.
It also means that this has been going on for generations and I think we all know why that’s rather alarming.
“What happened to the previous adopted kids?” I asked once we’d gotten through this rather confusing summary.
“They died.”
There was a heavy silence in the room.
“How?” I asked.
“Well… one drowned. Another suffocated.” He hesitated. “This is kind of why I’m reluctant to tell people I’m the president’s son.”
“Grayson, are you worried someone will try to kill you?” Cassie asked flatly.
“...yeah. I am, actually.”
Screaming into a pillow myself was starting to look pretty tempting.
Now I’m sure you’re all thinking what I was thinking at this point. If the university was just recycling the president’s corpse and finding new children to play the role of their child for… reasons??? then perhaps that was why the flickering man was interested in me. Perhaps I was Grayson’s replacement, as many of you have theorized.
I mean, it seems pretty suspicious. Grayson’s dad is getting his soul replaced on the regular - or at least, he was. Grayson himself is a replacement for prior Graysons but I guess since they don’t need an adult, they’re just grabbing any ol’ kid to fill the role for a while. But the former Graysons keep dying because the inhumans get him? Grayson has a lot of protection on campus but he’s not immune - I’ve watched him get attacked by the steam ghost in particular.
Which leads me to my own theory. If I am a replacement, I don’t fit the mold. Perhaps that’s why the flickering man hated me so much. I’m too old (legal adult yay) and… I’m not a son.
But I wanted to confirm some things.
We wrapped up the conversation with Grayson because we were running out of mental capacity to ask more questions. He was clearly uncomfortable and there was a lot to process. He did promise to not be so difficult about this in the future. He wasn’t really grieving. He was just… uncertain. He didn’t know what to do anymore. Which is fair. When you’re raised to fill a role and suddenly that role is gone it’s hard to adjust.
I know what that feels like.
After Grayson left I messaged Maria asking if she knew anyone that was good with a camera. Like, really good. And also good in high stress situations. She got back to me pretty quickly. Maria is starting to become one of those people who knows everyone. She’s heading firmly down the road of becoming the subject of one of those unhinged tumblr posts where someone magically summons an army of people to fulfill a task, while she stays on the sidelines quietly directing the ever-increasing chaos.
Fortunately, she’s not there quite yet, but she is freakishly well-connected for a campus of this size. Within an hour she had me in a group chat with someone from the Folklore Society who fit all my requirements, even the unspoken ones. Someone that was good with a camera in “hostile circumstances” (her words, very accurate) and wouldn’t cut and run the moment things got a little weird. I think you all see where I was going with this.
Yeah, we were going to get photos of something inhuman.
DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME.
For starters, it’s not safe just getting close to an inhuman to photograph it. And once you do, that opens a whole new set of hazards. If the inhuman takes offense to being photographed, then they’re going to do anything they have to to get the photo destroyed and all rules are off the table when it comes to disguising their existence. Think of it like this - an inhuman might not be able to enter a house due to hospitality rules keeping them out, but this is weighed against their need to keep their presence obscured. The latter wins. Hospitality rules are no longer enough protection.
That’s my understanding, at least.
And sure, there are inhumans that don’t seem to care if a photo or two are leaked to the internet, but you have no way of knowing in advance. Let’s say you get lucky and nothing comes after you to destroy the phone/camera, computer, your social media accounts, and you. You’re not quite off the hook. That photo is a connection to the inhuman and if the creature captured in it doesn’t use it as an access point, something else might.
Photos are just a bad idea all around.
So we agreed that if we were going to go ahead with this stupid plan, we’d do so with as many safety measures as we could. First, the person taking the photo would be fully informed on the potential consequences. I was hoping that they could just teach Maria or I how to use a camera, but considering they were in the inner circle Folklore Society (what I’m calling the folks that know the monsters aren’t just stories) they wanted to come in person. I tried to talk them out of it, they finally made a snarky comment about if I wanted them to sign a waiver, and I dropped the topic.
Secondly, we were going to destroy both the photo and the camera afterwards. I got online and ordered the cheapest digital camera I could find. It was a camera designed for young children so it was pastel pink with teddy bears on it, but whatever, it was digital and didn’t cost over $30. The money from my job at the dining hall has helped with the finances but I didn’t particularly feel like lighting it on fire.
Especially since we planned to literally light the camera on fire when we were done. I wasn’t looking forward to the smell of burning plastic but fire is both a thorough and symbolically traditional way to dispose of things. Like I said, we were trying to do this as safely as we could.
The camera arrived the next day so we decided to go ahead with our plan that evening. Cassie would stay home because we felt having too many people might be a hindrance if we had to bail out. Also, she had “digital date night” with her girlfriend and I didn’t want to interfere.
Then we found a discreet entrance to the steam tunnels.
I wanted a photograph of the steam ghost. It had a face. I wanted to see what that face looked like.
I’d scouted out the steam tunnel entrances beforehand, while waiting for the burner (lol) camera to arrive. Last time I’d looked inside, they were clogged with roots. However, if the roots were originating from the graveyard, then perhaps the parts of campus that were farthest away would be clear enough to traverse. I got lucky and found an entrance inside of one of the dorms that’s out by the parking lot. The lobby is open and from there it’s easy enough to just coast into the stairwell behind someone with a keycard and then down into the basement. There were roots, but they hung from the ceiling as slender tendrils that brushed the top of my head like the faint touch of a moth. I didn’t go far inside. Just enough to confirm it didn’t get any worse and we had a long corridor free of obstruction.
When I came back, I had Maria and the photographer with me.
His name is Jacob and he’s a sophomore. He joined the Folklore Society because he realized he wasn’t making any attempts to be social, at college of all places, and picked a club that seemed like it would be small so he didn’t have to deal with crowds. Large groups of people intimidated him. I can certainly relate to that.
I feel bad for him. Imagine getting caught up in all this bullshit just because you had trouble making friends.
It also occurred to me that this photography excursion was also part of his attempt to make friends, because that’s what landed him in the group that had to hide from the thing in the hallway. Whatever. Maria can deal with that. She’s the extrovert.
“Let’s not forget the plan,” I said nervously as we gathered outside the door. “We get in. We get the photo. We run like hell back out the door.”
I’m happy to say that the plan worked. Every step. Swear to god.
We were about halfway to where the tunnel turned when the steam started to rise out of the ground around us. It seeped through the walls, filling our lungs and making it hard to breathe. The usual. We turned back at that point, as we wanted to be close to the exit so we could snap the photo and run once the steam ghost showed up.
The nice thing about inhumans is that they can be predictable. They have set rules they follow and so long as you follow the prescribed pattern of behavior, you know what to expect. This allows you to plan, as I’d done. So when we loitered within sprinting distance of the door, the steam ghost obliged to show up and chase us off.
Just as expected. And Jacob was ready with our pastel pink camera, so that when its face materialized out of the steam, mouth open in a silent scream and its misty hands stretched towards us, he was able to snap a photo.
Then we ran and reached the door before it caught up.
See? Exactly as planned.
There’s one more rule we learned about though. One that I’d forgotten to factor in for this crucial moment.
The doors in the steam tunnels don’t always open to the same place.
We tumbled through without thinking. I, pulling up the rear, had a moment of hesitation when I saw nothing but darkness ahead of me, but it was too late, I was in a full sprint and besides, Maria had already stumbled through the doorway. I slammed into Jacob’s back, propelling him the few steps he needed to be past the doorway, and then we were all through and the door slammed shut behind us.
The air was warm and damp. The steam tunnels, while warm, aren’t damp unless the steam ghost is present. This felt like being inside of a sauna. I could feel water beads forming on my arms, clinging to the hairs that were currently standing on end in alarm. There was a faint breeze coming from ahead of us, a slowly rhythmic flow to it like a fan. It did nothing to alleviate the heat. If anything, it was even warmer.
Maria turned her phone’s flashlight on.
We were in a corridor, much the same size as the tunnel we’d just escaped. The walls glistened with moisture, shining with the gray-pink color of rotting beef. There were no sharp angles, just a round passageway that vanished into darkness at the edge of Maria’s flashlight beam. The floor beneath our feet was slightly squishy.
And it was full of teeth.
Honestly I think I would have preferred sharp teeth, like an animal’s fangs or something out of science fiction. Instead, we got human incisors, circling the entirety of the tunnel in regular intervals.
The tunnel rippled. There was a faint gurgling sound, like the rumbling of a stomach twisting in hunger. And those rows of teeth began to tighten as the tunnel constricted around us.
“STEAM GHOST,” Maria yelled. “I CHOOSE THE STEAM GHOST.”
And she threw the door behind us open and dove back into the tunnel. Jacob grabbed my arm and dragged me along with him, as I was frozen in fear, staring at all those glistening ivory teeth. I stumbled over the doorframe and fell forwards, hitting the cement floor hard on all fours. I heard the door slam shut behind me. Frantically, I looked up at the tunnel.
No ghost. But the steam was still there, hanging heavy in the air and filling my lungs. The ghost would be back. I was certain of that.
“What now?!” Jacob asked, his earlier calm quickly giving way to panic.
“Try the door again!” I said, scrambling to my feet. “It changes!”
Maria spun around and opened the door a sliver for the second time, just enough to peer through the crack and confirm what was on the other side.
“FUCK.”
Then she slammed it shut. Opened it. Another burst of profanity, slightly more panicked than the last explicative. Meanwhile, Jacob and I cowered at her back, staring at the steam that hung thick in the air all around us, waiting to see if it was going to reform into a malevolent spirit while Maria played Russian roulette with the door.
She did this five times before she finally got the dorm we’d entered through.
Flushed and panting, we stumbled through and Jacob kicked the door to the steam tunnels shut with a determined flourish. There. We’d done it. As I’d said, our plan went perfectly. We got the photo and ran like hell to the door.
Didn’t plan on what happened after we went through the door. This is my lack of attention to detail coming into play, which is probably what also made me a shitty barista.
We crowded around Jacob to see the photo he got. This is why we recruited someone with actual photography skills. He was able to use a truly shitty camera intended for toddlers to somehow focus on a literal ghost’s face in the handful of seconds we had before it reached us, all while not panicking.
Staring at us from the tiny screen was a person’s face. Not a face made of steam. An actual flesh and blood human face. The rest of the shot was obscured by steam, framing it so that all we could see was this disembodied human face staring out at us from the camera’s digital screen. The expression was placid, the eyes hollow and devoid of emotion.
I’d seen this look before, on the library ghost. This distant stare of something that wasn’t wholly here.
“That is… really creepy,” Jacob said.
“We just escaped a hallway full of teeth and this is what you find creepy?” I said.
“No, that was creepy too. I can be terrified by multiple things at once.”
We all stared at the photo for a good few minutes, trying to commit the face to memory because we were not going to retain any copies of it. Then Jacob deleted the photo, handed me the camera, and we awkwardly went our separate ways.
I got out my phone as soon as we’d all walked off. My theory was looking plausible, but there was one more thing I could do to confirm I was on the right track.
I texted Grayson. I asked him if the children before him, the ones the president adopted, were all male.
They were.
The library ghost. The stabbed student. And now… the steam ghost.
All former students. All male. All trapped on campus after their deaths.
And for at least two of them, they seemed to have something against Grayson.
They don’t like Grayson because he replaced them.

Hey, my name is Elian. I’m 20 years old, I’m in the CDT time zone. I’m currently in college, though I graduate this week, I’m a major in Business Administration. I also currently work part-time. Since I am about to graduate, I will be having a lot of free time this summer, so I wanted to reach out and get some new roleplay partners! My rules are few but somewhat specific, so here are those!

1. Be 18+, no exceptions.
2. Be at least semi-literate.
3. Write in 3rd person.

I’m in a few fandoms, but I enjoy OC roleplays just as much! I also prefer MxM for ships and OC roleplays. Here are some fandoms I’m in and the characters I play for each!
• My Hero Academia: Toshinori Yagi (All Might), Hizashi Yamada (Present Mic), Shouta Aizawa (Eraser Head)
• Detroit: Become Human: Hank Anderson
• Naruto/Naruto/Shippuden: Kakashi Hatake, Iruka Umino, Jiraiya
My fandom list isn’t very extensive, but I have PLENTY of OCs! If you would like a list of those, I can send that with basic descriptions, and if any catch your eye I can send a more detailed bio! I also draw my characters, so I have art for each one :)
I have plots as well. Mainly themes like Romance, Slice of Life, Drama, Angst, and Fantasy. I have a rather long list, some a mix of those things, and I also love sharing ideas and plot/world building, so feel free to tell me any ideas at any time!!
If this interests you, feel free to DM me and we can talk more!!

Hi! This is going to be a long one/rant and story because I really don’t know who to talk to about this in real life because I’m not in therapy and I’m so embarrassed to be feeling this way knowing I made all the choices to be here and people are already flying in from out of state to come to our wedding. Also I’m diagnosed adhd incase any of yall are wondering what’s wrong with me once I tell you all the decisions I made to get here. I am getting married in three months and have a son who is 15 months old. My now fiance 28m and I 27f met whenever we were thirteen years old in middle school and started a tumultuous up and down / on and off again relationship. We were together all the way up until junior year in high school and we broke up. I come from a broken home and he does not. Looking back I realize how much of me staying with him and trying to keep his attention stemmed from my abandonment issues that I must have had from my own parents. After we broke up he joined a gang in my local hometown and I was still in love with him so I decided to still be involved with him even though I was not in a relationship with him. I ended up losing my virginity to him while we were not together just because I wanted to be with him and we said we were friends with benefits but really I was just in love with him and thought by doing that maybe he would want to be with me again but he didn’t and continued to sleep with other girls and do drugs. I also started doing drugs like Xanax and smoking to fit in with him and be cool. I ended up getting a horrible tattoo because one of the other girls he was also seeing had a bunch of tattoos. I dropped out of my high school college courses and ended up going to jail for marijuana in high school and got kicked out of cheer and softball. I ended up on probation and having to be drug tested for a year. Within that year after being heart broken and realizing nothing I did would make him change into who he was before he got involved in our local gang or make him want to be with me… I ended up enrolling in college and getting accepted to a university where I would move about two hours away from our home town to live on campus and study to be a nurse. While on probation, so I couldn’t really party or anything in college which was good (even though I was never really addicted to anything and it wouldn’t be that hard for me) I wanted to save money for a car so I ended up getting a job at the hooters next to my college and was in college full time and working at hooters. My sister happened to go to that same college before I did and live in that town with her ex bf and they would give me rides to and from work back to campus. Low and behold after about two semesters of me being in college and finally feeling like I was moving on from him, he came back messaging me and telling me he missed me and wanted to be with me again. I was stupid and so excited that I agreed and asked him to come see me at college where he would stay for the weekend and we would have an amazing time. I felt so good about myself doing what I was doing and being able to show my growth. Despite all that he was still able to convince me to leave school and come back to be with him and live with him and go to the college near our hometown and work at the hooters near our hometown. I had already felt like I didn’t want to be a nurse at the time because my sister who was a nurse told me you could never leave the state as a nurse if you get your license there (which she didn’t know at the time that you could) and I knew I didn’t want to stay where I was from and wanted to eventually travel. So I decided to leave and move back with him in his bedroom at his parents house where I would work at the hooters close to our home town and never enroll in the college. He would eventually break up with me while I was at work one day even though I was living with him and since I didn’t have a car he continued to take me back in forth from work and I continued to live with him and continued to be in love with him while he committed to the fact that he didn’t want to be in a relationship but wanted to marry me one day and just wasn’t ready for anything right now and still wanted to have sex with me which I did. From working at hooters I had auditioned for the calendar and ended up being really liked by the photographer and started doing some modeling from that which was super exciting for me because I always was interested in that and the pictures we took would blow up and I started getting well known in my area for modeling even though they were just pictures and I wasn’t making any money off of it. Eventually a guy came into hooters telling me about working as an exotic dancer and how much they could make and I still needed a car really badly and was desperate to get out of my ex’s (now fiance) house. So I told him I would be waitressing and that I heard the waitresses make good money there and asked him to give me a ride there one day and so he started giving me a ride everyday. The money was so good to me and the most money I had ever seen. I ended up staying in a hotel closer to the club I worked at and sometimes he would come stay with me and I would just uber to work. Eventually I had gotten a car which I was so happy about. A couple of weeks after I got a car I ended up getting sucked into human trafficking with a friend where I would live in a house with multiple girls for 6 months and go to work at the club every day of the week except Saturday and Sundays. I wasn’t doing anything extra just dancing but the money was going to some random guy. It’s crazy I know. I was stupid and young and my family were not concerned for me at all or involved in my life. unfortunately my friend is just now leaving that situation. I got out without anything no car or nothing and had nowhere to go so back to my exes I went where I decided I was going to buy a cash car again and I worked everyday like I was used to saved money and got a car. Moved to my sisters and stayed with her for a little where i decided I didn’t want to dance anymore and I got a job as a bottle service girl and then waitressing at another waitress. I continued modeling because it made me happy and I never told anyone the truth about the deep things that were happening in my life except for my now fiance. So nobody had no idea about me dancing or the human trafficking or anything. Everyone just knew I modeled. I ended up getting an apartment with some friends and One day I got the urge to go to California randomly and at my waitressing job I was handed $800 and I took it as a sign and booked a flight the next day. Where I went by myself my first time ever on a flight with no plans at all. The day I got there I got asked to be in a commercial two days later. My roommate and her friends flew out there to get me and she ended up being able to be in the commercial with me which ended up on tbs but I had to go back home to my apartment and responsibilities and couldn’t leave my roommate stranded. Even though months later we would end up getting in an argument and I’d move out and move back with my ex (now fiance) where I would continue to work and model (for free) and went back to the club to dance and then my sister ended up going to California for a travel nursing assignment and her and her bf broke up and she asked me to move with her. I had nothing else here, my ex was still saying he didn’t want to be in a relationship, he was consistently sleeping with other girls while we lived together and expected relationship things from me. I was paying for everything for him. I paid for him while he was in school for audio engineer, his gas, lunch, school clothes, shopping, I helped him open his own studio and bought his equipment and Mac for it, even though his parents were very involved in his life. I got all his family bday gifts and Christmas gifts every year. He was honestly just using me but I was so in love and blind. He encouraged me to go to California too so I had nothing else there for me, if he had told me to stay and he wanted to be with me I would’ve. I flew out on my 21st birthday and met my sister and Vegas where we would have such a great time and my ex spent that day hanging out with a girl that tried to fight me and didn’t even tell me happy birthday, I was crying in the bathroom in Vegas until my sister shook me and told me to get it together we’re in Vegas. I was so heart broken to be leaving him but he didn’t care. I got to LA and I instantly started modeling on day one I booked a photo shoot where I met a guy that reminded me of my ex (I know) but we instantly clicked and he was 7 years older than me. We ended up talking for a little bit and pursuing something even though I wasn’t ready emotionally but he didn’t really care and I was kind of star struck a little because he was a music producer for a very famous musician and he was very persistent but that’s another story. I ended up booking a music video as a main girl for my ex’s (now fiance) favorite artist. When it came out it was crazy because I felt like the universe and God was just blessing me for leaving that situation and I knew he would see it because he was so obsessed with that artist and it shook up the whole small town I was from. After that I booked a lot of cool jobs like Sephora and worked with a lot of companies, and did some music videos for other super famous artists, and walked in fashion shows and modeled for clothing brands etc. I was working all the time as an extra to pay my bills and I was meeting cool people. I was always getting invited to celebrities parties and just having such a fun time. I decided to start getting into acting instead and started going to acting school where a lot of well known celebrities also went to and I started having meetings with very popular directors and I was being mentored by famous directors and another person that created an tv entertainment channel that I won’t say here also mentored me a lot and got me a lot of meetings with these people and would go to dinners and stuff etc with a list celebrities. I truly was living the life. And coming from where I can it was almost a dream. I had gotten in a relationship my first year there with that other guy I mentioned who ended up being super possessive of me but he treated me like a queen in the sense of paying for everything, giving me a safe space to tell my feelings, open up, the sex was amazing, he would take me on trips, took me out of the country for the first time. We ended up not working out due to lifestyle differences and just being at two different places and wanting different things. He wanted to move out of the country and have a farm and I wasn’t ready to do that as I wanted to focus on my career. (But I would die to move out of the country on a farm now ironically and he is doing just that now like he said he would haha) anyway, I ended up having my own studio apartment by myself that I loved so much and was so proud of. My sister had moved to Montana and it took a lot for me to get my apartment like staying in a house with other girls for a little to sleeping in my car and at a spa for a couple days. When I would fly home or drive home to see my family I would always see my ex, everytime. We kept a friendship and sometimes I would still help him out if needed, he was interning at a church through his school for audio engineering and recording people at his studio in our hometown. By this time I was going to New York and Miami also sometimes and doing work there. I wasn’t as stressed about bills anymore. I was seeing guys every now and then but not at all interested in a relationship, my heart was still healing from the past and both my exes but mainly my first (now fiance). I was super focused on my career and optimistic, I was used to the grind and in no way ever thinking of quitting. It just wasn’t an option because I knew I would make it wherever that would be because to me that is all I had for me and all I ever knew I wanted and the only thing that saved me. Skip to around October 2019 I had found out about a girl my ex was seeing and it crushed me. He was doing with her just like he was with me though. Just “friends with benefits” I was living in my apartment in LA still and my uncle that helped raise me was getting really sick back home and put on hospice so I decided to take a trip back to see him. I would go to restaurants in my state and near my home town and people would ask to take pictures with me, and at the little ceasars drive through someone asked if I was me and stuff it was crazy because I hadn’t been home in awhile and I felt like what I was doing was finally paying off and people were recognizing me. It was surreal. I ended up going to see my ex. I had such a fear of losing him to this other girl for some reason. I was so scared he would get her pregnant or get in a serious relationship since I was gone so far away and I would never be with him, I would end up sleeping with him again and the girl found out and drove by his house mad and cussing me out and throwing stuff at me. We ended up getting in a fight which is so embarrassing and beneath me. I ended up crying to him that I wanted to be with him and don’t know why he never wanted to be with me which at this time he honestly was not even in my playing field anymore. He told me if I wanted to be with him I had to move back to my hometown.. my heart dropped to my stomach and I knew it wasn’t what I was supposed to do but I said okay… all because this is what I had wanted all those years. I decided to stay where the next two years all I would think about everyday was I was making the wrong decision and needed to go back to my life. My hometown had nothing for me.. COVID hit a couple months after me being there and we were terrified. We ended up getting everything out of my apartment and moving into a house around the corner from his parents. I had to tell him how I liked to communicate now without yelling and stuff which I learned from the boyfriend I had in LA and that I wasn’t going to put up with that disrespect but he never listened. Eventually everything went back to normal. I ended up going back to the club again dancing because I didn’t want to go backward and model here. He never wanted me to go back to LA even for a little bit even though that’s where my career and heart was so I had no idea what to do with my life. I started waitressing as well and getting back on my adhd meds. People started pressuring us to get pregnant and we tried for a year and 6 months. The month I found out I was pregnant before I knew, I quit my job and decided I was going to move back and get my life back. Two days later I found out I was pregnant…. Finally after trying for over a year. Our relationship was toxic just like the past he always yelled, I could never talk to him about my feelings without him saying I was trying to fight, he spit in my face once, threatened me, put his hands on me, he would tell me he was going to take my baby away from me as soon as I had it. I started asking him about getting married while I was pregnant and the proposal wasn’t even that. He got mad at me for asking one day and walked in the room and handed me the ring. It didn’t fit because I was pregnant & it was $27 (not that that matters but the proposal sucked).. he drained both my bank accounts and they closed it, charged my credit card up and put me in debt, he has not let me do anything I want to do like school or anything. He is so bad with money. He has an action figure addiction and at one point was spending 3k on action figures every month and turned one of the rooms in our house into a collection room so I had to take everything out of my closet and put my sons crib in there for the first year of his life. we have good times and I feel comfortable with him. He knows everything about me but he doesn’t respect me and sometimes I feel like he is intimidated by me. The sex isn’t good at all we always just ask “do you want to have sex” he never gives oral or foreplay, I never get pleasure. He’s an amazing dad though and loves his son. We have the most sweet and beautiful little boy now who I love so much and he loves him also. He’s very attentive to his son. But I still feel unheard. I can’t talk about my feelings. If I do it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t change anything. He is so defensive and we never communicate for a solution it’s always just pointing fingers. I have started yelling again because I’m so used to it now and I hate it because I grew up like that and I finally grew out of it until I got back with him and recently started again and now he throws it in my face and knows I begged him not to do it forever but he never stopped and now I am too. I’ve asked him to take me to the movies and he hasn’t still. I just ask for more romance and stuff but it just feels like I have a roommate. I have nothing now. I had my car and we traded it in for a new car that he wanted. I always dreamed of the next car I’d get once I paid it off but he got it & it’s in his name now so I paid it off for nothing. I’m driving around his dream car. I’ve been planning our wedding since I birthed our son and everything is going good. Money is tight. He works at the church now full time and makes about 45k a year or so, my son has been waiting to start daycare for awhile so I have been home with him. I’ve tried starting jobs multiple times but he is against it unless it’s super fast money like going to the club which I am so repulsed by and absolutely hate it now. I tried going back to college but my old college won’t release my transcripts for fasfa because I owe them money. I started cosmetology school a few months ago which he was all for but two months in freaked out and him and his mom guilt tripped me that we can’t handle this right now and he was having a hard time doing the night time routine for the baby while I was at school so I had to leave and now owe that’s school for my kit unless I enroll again in 128 days. I also miss modeling so much and sometimes think I can start again but it’s been five years. My body is so different too after a baby. Everything I want is a no go. Especially moving out of our hometown. He says he wants to but I don’t think he does. We are constantly at his moms and dads and they tell us all the time we aren’t moving anywhere which is really hard for me as this place is super toxic for my soul. Anytime I get money he spends it. Anytime I save money he spends it. Even if it does go towards our bills. His action figure habit is almost nonexistent now and he has grown a lot in the past few months from that since I demanded my son have his own bedroom after his first bday and all his figures are in boxes now and told him he could turn the shed into his man cave. He says we can’t save because we have nothing to save after bills but I believe in saving anything even $5 a paycheck. It’s doable. I grew up poor so this is nothing to me but after living the lifestyle I lived in LA and going out with guys that respected me and cherished me it’s hard. I know nobody is perfect but we are about to get married and I’m scared… I have nothing though anymore. I’ve threatened to leave a couple times and he says he will take me to court and take my baby. I’m scared he might. I don’t want my son to be angry like him or not respect women how he does. In public he’s a saint. He also has a very supportive family that it’s almost toxic. They all blame me for his anger issues and say I make him that way. But he’s been punching walls since I met him in 8th grade. I know it’s not because of me. But I have nobody else and nowhere else to go. No money. No car. I’m at the bottom again where I was before. Only difference is now I have a son. And we are getting married in three months and I can’t call it off. I am older now and looking back on my life I realize he maybe truly never loved me and I was just so desperate for love. I got myself here nobody else. I accepted everything, even when my gut told me not to. ( he is not just horrible, he’s a great person just with some bad qualities like everyone but I’m tired of feeling stuck with someone that never truly wanted me and doesn’t care to grow in some ways or show me )
Please help.. what do I do?

Hi just wondering going to give this a shot and try to detail cars for some extra cash on the side. Any tips and or ideas on how to execute this professionally and or smart I am open to critique. Been mainly curious on when I should detail the cars sense I live in FL where it is very hot throughout most of the day I wonder when I should look to detail the clients if I get any. Please feel free to state anything about this topic I am willing to learn and talk. (:

Good day, wherever in the world you are. As I mention in the title, I am looking for a writing group that is SFW only. No swearing or ... ahem heavy romance scenes. It does not need to be strictly PG-13, but perhaps you get the idea. A small enough group that I could get to know the people, but not so small that they would suffer too much if I (or any few people) missed contributing. If anyone knows of such a group, please feel free to comment.
I like writing short stories and conlanging.
Thank you for reading.

Hello! I'm available for free tarot readings. You can send me a message if you're interested.
I'm willing to read on most any topics and situations that may arise for you, to help you find solutions to your concerns about them. I use creative thinking along with knowledge of tarot correspondences, symbolism and metaphors to provide you with ideas and insights on your queries.
You have the option of having your reading live on call or in the form of photo + text; let me know which you prefer.
The main exceptions are queries on health/medical, legal/illegal, and supernatural topics. I won't be taking queries focused on third parties either (other people's mind, feelings, doing etc.).
You can message me with your request, and I'll respond to you as soon as I can. Please allow up to a few hours for a response. If I'm not able to take any request for any reason, I'll let you know. But otherwise, feel free to ask about anything!
This is for creative and entertainment purposes only. I won't read for anyone under 18 years of age.

Currently, I'm trying to write the plot of an original fiction story that is my passion project. The OCs have been bouncing around in my head for way longer, but only about a year and a half ago did I decide to put all my ideas together into a story. Then I got stuck, because I could not come up with a plot, took a several month break, and came back to it. I've been working on it for several more months, and I've got a pretty good idea of what I want to do with the character arcs and a few scattered ideas for plot points, but very little idea of what I want to do with the main plot, and the ideas I do have don't give me enough material, inspiration or starting place for me to truly spin a plot out of it. It's just this that I'm stuck on -when I try to come up with character backstory stuff, one-shot plot ideas or world lore, I can come up with ideas just fine. It's when I try to come up with a main plot that my brain refuses to create ideas. (I must specify that it isn't that I'm rejecting ideas, it's that I'm failing to come up with any ideas at all -I know perfectionism is a major reason why people get stuck, which is why I wanted to rule that out.)
I HAVE managed to work out how the first part of this roughly 4-5 part series would be structured -main character intro chapters and the initial quest hook, then a bunch of one-shot plots and shenanigans that also serve to build characterization and introduce important information, then a major tone shift near the end of it where I make the tone darker and get the plot fully rolling. (Not looking for criticism on the structure, just wanted to share what I have so far.) The issue is, I can't really go further ahead than that because there's a blank space where the plot is supposed to be, and I can't just start writing because the plot hook is supposed to tie to the main plot and there's a blank space where that is as well.
Now, I'm not asking for advice on what the specific plot of my story should be, because I don't want someone else's ideas for a plot, I want to figure out how to come up with my own ideas for a plot that I feel inspired and compelled to write, and I'm failing to do that. I want to emphasize that I've heard all the usual writer's block advice and tried it, as I've been stuck on this for a while and none of the usual writer's block advice worked -because I think this issue is a different, more difficult to identify problem than writer's block. I have an entire list of all the things I've tried doing, including some increasingly ridiculous ideas that I've tried as I've gotten more and more desperate. Every time one of my attempts to get ideas for a plot does turn up ideas, it's never ideas for a plot -it's always ideas for more character stuff, or world lore, or themes, or insight on the current situation, or literally anything other than the one thing I'm trying to get ideas for. I eventually managed to figure out that part of the issue is that my core concept for the story is fundamentally incomplete and that the original idea never actually specified a plot, just a premise, setting, mix of genres and a bunch of characters, but that doesn't explain why I'm continuing to fail to fill the blank. I also managed to figure out that the characters (and putting them in situations) has always been the most interesting part of this concept, but that doesn't mean my story doesn't need a main plot -the character arcs were designed to go with a main plot, as that's the kind of story I want to write.
Please help me figure out what I'm doing wrong, because by now I have to be doing something wrong or I wouldn't still be stuck. I've already tried stepping away and coming back (which helped in every area except this), I've already tried all the usual writer's block advice, I've already tried googling it, I've already tried overhauling the concept in novel ways -more than once- and I've already tried asking for help in various places -also more than once. This story just refuses to be written, and because I refuse to give up on it because it's my passion project and I actually love drawing and writing these OCs (I wanted to make that very clear because otherwise I know someone's gonna suggest that I give up), I have to find a way to move forward. Feel free to ask me questions -I'd be more than happy to answer.

Hi there, just a quick background about myself without getting too long… I’m 24(M) in southeast Texas. Graduated high school in 2018. For the last 6 years, I’ve been chasing the music dream. Although my band and I have been rising slowly, at this age I’m wanting to get setup for one of my other dream careers. I’ve been working as a mechanic to actually support myself while I play music. Wondering if anybody could toss me some advice/info that I haven’t thought of.
1- Law Enforcement: Been an interest of mine for about 3 years now. I’ve been on several ride alongs and loved it. Basically I’d just have to do 6 months at a police academy, and get hired on at a PD. Around here, I’d be starting at around $67-70k/year and cap off at MAYBE 100k (which is a LONG time). But with those awesome government benefits. (I do hope to get unbiased views on this. All I can say is I want to be in law enforcement for the right reasons…)
2- Maritime Deck Officer: Been a second dream of mine since I was a freshman in high school. This would require about 5 years total of school (wouldn’t be until I’m 29 at the latest that I can start working). I’d get a bachelors degree from Texas A&M (which means student loans) and the necessary license to be a deck officer in the merchant marine. I have a serious passion for being on the water and operating giant vehicles. I’d be starting off at around 120k/year, and the sky is the limit for capping off. Some jobs in maritime I could be at 300-400k/year. But in the grand scheme of things, I’d maintain between 120k-240k/year and be part of a union. Can be at sea 3-4 months at a time, but only work half the year (typically a 75/75 schedule… I value time off of work so this is awesome). I do plan to have kids/family so while I love the idea of that schedule, it is also a concern of mine. Another plus is if I want to leave being a mariner, I’ll have that degree to fall back on. Texas Game Wardens require a bachelors degree, so I would have that! I am a VERY avid outdoorsman/fisherman/hunter and I know I would excel at being a game warden as a fall back.
Really the biggest decision is… Start a career in the next 6 months-year and start making good money soon… OR put in the 4-5 years of school, live at home until I’m 29, and come out with a degree/license to be in an industry with high job security and a 6 figure starting salary. I’d like to have kids by my early 30s, but not while I’m living at home! Going the maritime route would be pushing that goal… Plus, I truly do hate the idea of still living at home into my late 20’s/early 30’s. I’m not a bum by any means, I just had different priorities right out of high school. I don’t have any regrets chasing my main dream AT ALL, but I do kind of wish I would have started on something else a bit earlier.
Sorry for all the reading, but I truly do appreciate any advice someone can give me. I will be getting started on one or the other this fall.

Hello there! I'm looking for people who want to write in the Stranger Things fandom who are 18+ as I am 18+ myself. I would also like to mention that all characters must be 18+ as well. My writing style fluctuates depending on the scene and what I am given by my partner but I like to keep a minimum of 350 words with all of my posts. Most of my posts really averaging to about 500-600 words. I also prefer to write in the third person, past tense and I prefer to write on discord. I also enjoy making mood boards, character boards, playlists, and love to gush about the roleplay!
As for plot, I'm really open for anything at the moment! We can do something in an AU, follow the aftermath of Season 4(again, characters must be at least 18), I even have a plot idea myself! Although, I would like to state that I don't want us to stray too far away from the series canon and by that I mainly mean the setting. Genres for the plot should kind of be similar to the genres present in the show: Action, Drama, Romance, Angst, Comfort, etc.
Currently, I'm looking to write against an Eleven. She is actually my favorite character from all media! I love her story so incredibly much, finding her own identity, trying to learn who she is as a person with her powers and childhood, finding people who care about her and give her a normal life, trying to shine the darkness away like, I can go on and on and on!
I want to keep this short and sweet so if you are interested or if you have any questions, feel free to dm me! Hope you have an awesome day!

Hello there! I'm looking for people who want to write in the Stranger Things fandom who are 18+ as I am 18+ myself. I would also like to mention that all characters must be 18+ as well. My writing style fluctuates depending on the scene and what I am given by my partner but I like to keep a minimum of 350 words with all of my posts. Most of my posts really averaging to about 500-600 words. I also prefer to write in the third person, past tense and I prefer to write on discord. I also enjoy making mood boards, character boards, playlists, and love to gush about the roleplay!
As for plot, I'm really open for anything at the moment! We can do something in an AU, follow the aftermath of Season 4(again, characters must be at least 18), I even have a plot idea myself! Although, I would like to state that I don't want us to stray too far away from the series canon and by that I mainly mean the setting. Genres for the plot should kind of be similar to the genres present in the show: Action, Drama, Romance, Angst, Comfort, etc.
Currently, I'm looking to write against an Eleven. She is actually my favorite character from all media! I love her story so incredibly much, finding her own identity, trying to learn who she is as a person with her powers and childhood, finding people who care about her and give her a normal life, trying to shine the darkness away like, I can go on and on and on!
I want to keep this short and sweet so if you are interested or if you have any questions, feel free to dm me! Hope you have an awesome day!

I was just thinking today about how I was looking forward to middle school as a kid. Elementary school was so awfully boring, but I also didn't really have any real friends so that didn't help. Still though, the thing is that I spent a lot of time by myself and that involved watching a lot of TV. And I'm not from the US, I live in Europe, but the TV shows were all from the US. And they kinda gave me a really cool fantasy of what school was gonna be like after elementary school. And yeah I'm sure anyone reading this is gonna think that, well, of course it's not actually like on TV, TV is fiction. But trust me, this is gonna be way more disappointing than you think. But I mean, at least I wasn't bullied, most people just sorta left me alone instead, so I don't wanna act as if school must definitely be better in other places. It's just that, it was so boring.
Hmm where do I begin. Two things constantly said in these TV shows that left me confused, kids often talked about classes they take, consider taking and don't take. And kids often talked about "this person from my x class". This gave me the idea that, unlike in elementary school, I'd get to at least somewhat choose what classes I might wanna take. Not at all how it worked, at least not at the schools that were options for me at the time I went to middle school in the early 2000s, as far as I can tell. I say as far as I can tell cause it was never explained to me either, it was explained to my parents, so that they could maybe talk to me and figure what to do with me. Anyway, you either went to trade school, which was seen as a huge embarrassment to your parents cause you are an idiot that's probably not gonna do college, or for 7th and 8th grade you decide on one of two options; latin or modern languages. Both of those come with a certain set of classes, you can't not take any of them and you can't take any that don't come with it. My parents didn't put much thought in it, they were just told that since I did so well in elementary school I should go for latin, as that's what smart kids do. It doesn't come with many interesting classes to me, but to be honest neither did the other option. I would have much rather gone to trade school, which has a technical studies option too that would come in handy for college, but many people just didn't like having to say that their kid goes to the trade school. In fact, I had a few people in my group failing on purpose cause they told their parents they wanna go to trade school but were just not allowed, so they protested by failing. Anyway, the other thing that had me confused about that, all classes are taken with the same group. You're in a group of about 20 people, they all have the same classes cause you don't get to pick and choose, why not have them do every class together. I'm not sure if that's supposed to get the group to know each other better or something, but really the result is just that you really don't get to know so many people. If you don't like any in this group so much, well tough luck, everybody only hangs out with people of their own group. You weren't even allowed to sit with people from another group for lunch, they assigned you a seat at a table for your group. And you know, many of them are kinda the same. This school was just for those two options I mentioned anyway, which are for preparing kids to continue to college in the future, anybody wanting to do any trade or anything technical would be at a different school that focuses on those. Oh and also, not a single girl in our group, I didn't really care at the time but thinking back about it it does seem kinda weird to have years of middle school where all classes were boys only. Alright on to the next topic to pick. Hmm how about the whole thing with the activities at school they always have on TV. You know, clubs, sports, arts, dances, science fairs, even elections for something? Yeah I did totally wonder what my future school was gonna have. Which was nothing, in fact I went to three different schools from 7th to 12th grade and they all had nothing. It's just not a thing here I guess? There is not a single thing to do other than go to your set of classes that day and go back home. No special events of any kind either, just an occasional educational school trip. But certainly nothing that would make you meet any people with similar interests, or anything social at all really. Here's sorta how it works instead. You wanna do any of this, you sign up for it somewhere else and go there after school. Like my city did have a music school and a drawing school for example, so if you wanna go to a 2nd school on some days after going to your 1st school that day then you're free to do that. Of course it'll be with completely different people that you probably don't ever see anywhere else. I was in an unrelated sports team for example, we played a game on saturdays that is only attended by parents and practiced 2 hours after school one day in the week. And I never saw anyone on the team ever outside of those couple of hours per week. That's also one kinda problem with that isn't it, the kids learning music or drawing at those specific schools after their main schools probably got to show off the things they learned at times, but only fellow kids at those specific schools and their parents would ever know about it. They never get to show off the stuff they learned to kids at their main schools.
Here's a little short one for in between that is kinda odd, personal lockers. Nobody ever got their own locker, not at any of the three schools I went to. We just stuff all our crap in our backpack and bring it home. Then in the morning figure out what we need that day, and carry it all back to school in our backpack. In elementary school we had a desk at school with a little space for books, but from middle school you're not always in the same classroom so you get no desk with storage. Every classroom you go to you bring your heavy backpack with everything for that day in it.
This is getting really long already so here's my last one, the whole social groups and cliques thing full of stereotypes. Well, just having anything like that at all really. Because of the stuff I wrote earlier, but also some of the rules. Like I already said, you take every class with your group and sit at an assigned place with your group for lunch, you can't go find someone who likes the same stuff as you from outside your group. Except during one of the three breaks, two of those are 10 minutes and one is 30 minutes. During those, you can walk around outside and go talk to anyone you want. Of course they are all total strangers to you though as you have never seen them do anything anywhere, since there are no activities at school other than your classes. But here are some of the rules we had. No electronic devices, so you can't listen to or show anyone any music or play any videogames with anyone. I mean no phones either but almost all of those couldn't really do anything other than call and text at the time anyway. No 'distracting' hair, whether that is a weird style or having any part of it any color that does not appear natural in humans. No 'distracting' clothing either, but at least no uniforms. No tattoos or piercings of any kind, except earrings but one time an acceptable looking punk came in with a safety pin earring he did at home and that did not count as an allowed earring. Actually come to think of it, the punks were the only group. Everybody else just looked the same as everybody else. And these punks were just 4 people. We knew they were punks cause of their outfit, they pushed the boundaries of distracting. And sometimes too far, like with the safety pin. But they usually wore a flat cap, a denim jacket with a few punk patches and leather boots. Probably the coolest looking people at the school, mostly because I couldn't tell you what anyone else looked like now, I totally forgot everything except their face. Though I was also a bit of an exception. I was the guy with long hair. Not that anybody knew anything about me cause I didn't talk, but they did know me as the one guy in school with long hair. They couldn't really ban that as I don't think they could ban things for only one gender. But yeah, you only have the opportunity to talk to people not in your group during the short breaks, but how would you decide who to go talk to? You never talked to any of these kids, all you got is how they look, and they're barely allowed to change their look from anything default.
Alright I'm gonna end it here. I guess the conclusion is that if you make school as absolutely boring as possible then there is not gonna be as much trouble, I think that might have been the goal at least? Just come in, get your education that day, go home, no drama. Is that better? I wouldn't know, I haven't been to other schools of course. But I sure couldn't help but wish it had a little more going on like they did on TV.

The HRRFY.
It’s the horror movie festival where something genuinely fucked happens every year. And I mean every year.
Like, there are some screenings that unleash hordes of bats while the movie is playing. You're free to leave whenever you want, but the movie will still play for 2 hours and 15 minutes.
Other screenings hire actors to turn at you and scream at some point in the movie. You have no idea when, or how many times.
It's a festival where the word "illegal" can't even begin to describe what happens. You'd only attend if you were a young, stupid edgelord like me who was trying to prove he was hardcore to his friends.
Trust me. DO NOT GO.
You have nothing to prove to anyone. Don't be stupid.
Wait for the lamer film versions to come out streaming. That's what everyone else does. They're neutered edits but they're fine.
All they lack is the real gleaming thing everyone wants to see at HRRFY, but who cares. At least you don’t get traumatized. At least you’re not risking your life.
Anyway, if you really want to know what attending HRRFY is like. I’ll be quick and summarize the one screening I went to. It was the 20th anniversary, and I was lucky enough to get in.
***
I had signed up for the HRRFY mailing list, and joined the subreddit. Through a series of cryptic online emails I solved a sequence of riddles and was entered in the lottery for a HRRFY entry.
Lady Luck took a shine to me, because one day in my mailbox, I received a physical ticket. I had done it.
I was going.
The actual ‘ticket’ was a black USB key that announced the location of the festival the night before (which I won’t disclose here) and it did force me to pay for a very expensive flight in order for me to make it on time.
You see, to prevent getting shut down, the location of HRRFY changes every year. Some years the local police have managed to stop it, but for the most part, authorities have given up. What’s the point of arresting or charging anyone, if all the organizers and attendees actually want to be there?
Upon arrival, I had to pick between three participating theaters.
Based on title alone, I decided to go see “Many Drownings” (directed by Oleksander Gołański.) It was in the theater that was furthest away from the downtown core, which meant it was likely the one where the craziest shit was bound to happen.
That’s what I came here for right?
I lined up a solid two hours before the screening like everyone else. The entire line was jittering, just vibrating with excited twenty-somethings. Rumors flew left and right.
“I heard they’re going to force everyone to take acid.”
“I heard an actor’s gonna run in and shotgun the ceiling.”
“I heard they’re going to disappear like four more people this year. At this screening!”
Each year people disappeared. And each year the same people were ‘found.’ And yes this is the worst part, and why should never, ever, ever go to this event.
Again I will repeat myself. DO NOT GO.
No one has ever truly gone 'missing' at HRRFY in any legal or physical sense, because every missing person always shows up a day later, convinced that they are fine—refusing to elaborate further.
There are some small support groups for people who have family members who had gone to HRRFY, and came back irrevocably changed after being ‘found.’
These few unlucky people lose all semblance of personality. They don’t want interviews, or help, or therapy, or contact of any kind. And they never, ever want to talk about what they saw.
Some HRRFY fans think that these ‘found’ people were body-snatched. Cloned in a lab or replaced by a cyborg, or something stupid like that.
But I think there’s a far simpler explanation. The ‘found’ are still the same people. They're just terrified. They got shaken by something that shattered the foundation of their mind, body and soul. They got too scared.
They got HRRFY’d.
***
I should mention I had a cough the day I went. And I was worried my sickly appearance might give me trouble at the airport.
So I invested in an intense double N95 mask which I wore for the whole flight, and continued to wear even at the screening of “Many Drownings.”
It made my face hot and uncomfortable, but it still didn’t stop me from yelling “excuse me, excuse me!” as I ran to snag a seat in the back of the theater.
I always preferred sitting in the far back. You get a good view of the whole screen, and a good view of the whole audience.
Beside me sat a big dude named Sylvester, who apparently flew all the way from Australia to attend HRRFY.
“Worth the full Seventeen hours mate! It’s gonna be epic!” he dropped a massive camping backpack beside me, which I assume contained all of his luggage.
The lights dimmed, and the production company logos started to play.
The whispering, giggling and suspense all stacked upon each other to create an electric feeling in the air. I was giddy. It's like the entire audience was embarking on a massive roller coaster.
The anticipation was the best part for sure. It might have been the only good part.
Then the movie started.
It was a wide shot of a gray, stormy sea. The waves were massive, and the thunderclouds were looming. There was no land visible in any direction.
All we could hear was the sound of waves foaming, swirling, and crashing over and over. Lightning crackled. Rain poured. The camera held perfectly still over this storm as if it was mounted on a perfectly hovering drone. A drone so resilient that it didn’t waver at all.
I thought it had to be CGI.
The shot held like this for the next few moments. Everyone sat glued to their seats. Everyone was thinking the same thing.
What’s going to happen? How are they going to scare us?
People chuckled. People cheered. People wanted to tease whatever was going to happen—to happen already.
But nothing did.
Five, ten, maybe fifteen minutes went by without any change. People started snoring.
I looked beside me and saw that Sylvester—the most excited audience member of them all—had fallen totally asleep. The jet lag must’ve gotten to him.
Then I peered beyond the rest of the audience members and saw other people snoozing too. Heads were keeled over, some people were curled in their seats, some had even spilled out into the aisle and were dozing on the floor.
I looked above the bright screen, at the huge vents in the corner of the theater. I saw a faint white gas emerging from the vents.
Holy shit. What have we been breathing? I tightened the straps on my N95 mask, and made my breathing shallower.
The gas must have been pumping since the opening credits—because how else would an audience of two hundred people all fall asleep?
As I moved my hand through the air in front of me, I could sense the thickness. It was definitely hazier than usual. I took the scarf off my neck and wrapped it around my mouth as well.
Then I spotted movement in front of the screen.
It was a tall blonde man, wearing a black trenchcoat and military-grade gas mask. Beside him arrived six hazmat suits who started pointing at various audience members.
I slunk in my chair, pretending to sleep like everyone else.
Two hazmats walked over to the front row and picked out a sleeping guy in flannel. They lifted flannel up, under the armpits and by his ankles, carrying him between them both like a hammock.
The hazmats walked back up to the stage, where the blonde leader inspected the flannel man and tapped his head. Something was approved?
The hazmats began to swing flannel back and forth, as if they were getting ready to toss him. Despite their masks, I could hear a very muffled, very distant countdown.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“One…”
The flannel audience member was tossed into the screen.
I literally watched him fly into the image of stormy waves … andfallinto them. The flannel man sank into the gray water like a rock, leaving a few bubbles and foam. A wave came crashing down. All trace of him was gone.
What the fuck.
All six hazmats began grabbing more audience members with much more urgency. It became a minute-long process where they would pick the sleeping person up, bring them beside the screen, and then swing-toss them into it.
How was this possible?
I turned slightly to see if there was a projector above me, and realized there was none. Which meant maybe there was no screen on stage.
Which meant … maybe it was a portal?
I tried to wake Sylvester by shaking him. I pinched his leg and arm a bunch.
He was out cold.
The hazmats started grabbing audience members from the middle rows now. They were emptying the whole theater. What the hell was I supposed to do?
I waited until they grabbed another batch, only a few rows down from me. When all hazmats had their backs turned—I broke into a run.
With my left arm, I tightly gripped my mask and scarf against my face, while my right arm vaulted me over seat after seat.
I had never breathed so hard—through so much fabric—in my life.
The hazmats all turned to me. “Hey! Hey!” But their hands were full with their next victims.
I ran all the way down the aisle, to the big exit sign on the left. My heartbeat filled my head. My plan was to dropkick through the exit door.
I imagined myself breaking through like some flying gazelle.
I jumped.
I angled my kick.
It might as well have been a brick wall. I fell ass-first to the ground, followed by my head. Of course the door was locked.
Through a muffled mask I heard a sneering scoff.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Above me stood the one wearing a trenchcoat. I could see his piercing gray eyes through his gas mask.
I rolled aside and tried to run by him. He lifted a foot and tripped me without effort.
My forehead bashed into an empty seat. It dazed me.
The blonde leader bent down and grabbed me by the neck, tearing away my scarf and mask.
“No! No!”
A sweet, ether-like smell filled my nostrils. I did my best to hold my breath, but I could already feel myself getting light-headed.
The other hazmats joined in, grabbing me from all sides. Even if I had the strength to struggle, there was no escape now.
Above me, all I could see was the dark theater ceiling, and some of the light behind me from the cinema screen.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“No. Please. Don’t do thi—”
SPLASH.
I was plunged deep into cold, wet chaos. My head was completely underwater.
Gagging. Bubbles. Spinning.
I fought for dear life, dog-paddling like a maniac.
Churning. Freezing. Panic.
For a second, my head popped above the water. I inhaled all the air my lungs could muster. I stared across a vast, violent ocean.
An enormous thirty foot wave came in my direction.
My whole body lifted higher and higher as the wave approached. I did my best to tread water. It seemed to be working.
Then a series of smaller waves arrived and smacked my chest.
SPLASH.
Spinning. Kicking. Flipping.
My view alternated between the pitch dark ocean beneath me, and the moonlit night sky above.
Again I swam to the surface, popped my head out. Ravenously sucked in air.
There was a small lull in the water.
Around me I now registered the other theater goers. Most of them were lying face-down or sinking … but a few were flapping about like me, fighting for their life.
And above all of us, a floating white shape.
It was painfully bright, I had to lift one hand to look at it.
My jaw dropped.
It was the movie screen, hanging completely still in the air. It showed a dark, empty theater. The exact same theater we all occupied moments ago.
It was tremendously high, above all of our heads. There was no way of reaching it.
Then I saw another thirty foot wave come our way. It grazed the bottom of the screen.
I knew what had to be done.
***
One of the theater goers happened to be on a college swim team. She was the first one able to traverse one of the giant waves and climb into the screen.
Once she was up there, she found a firehose in the theater and reeled it out to us like a rope.
One by one, we swam as hard as we could, praying to God we could reach the rope. Everyone’s energy was sapped. Your body can only sustain itself on adrenaline and fear for so long.
By some miracle, five of us got out.
I was the last.
I climbed the rope coughing and vomiting. I had swallowed so much water that my stomach felt swollen.
When I reached the top and they pulled me into the screen, I sobbed. I couldn’t stop crying.
My life had flashed countless times before my eyes. In bubbling, suffocating visions, I saw both my parents and my brother. I saw my highschool graduation. I saw my favorite Christmas from when I was six years old.
I had almost lost all of that. I had lost almost everything.
On the dirty, carpeted theater floor, I lay with my face down, savoring the fact that I now lay on a hard surface. God bless ground. God bless this filthy, popcorn-strewn ground.
Beside me I heard bantering, hugging, the wringing of wet clothes. Sylvester was the second last to be saved, and he was particularly vocal.
“Wooooooaaaaahh!” He came and drummed me on the back, lifted me up. “Oh my god dude! Holy shit!”
I sat on my knees, wiping the tears and snot off my mouth.
Sylvester clapped his hands, held his face and screamed some more.
“Holy shit dude! That was so fucking scary! Like literally people were dying beside us. Like I SAW people die!”
I nodded, shivering in my drenched clothes. “ I know it was—”
“—That was craaaaazy!”
He laughed and stood up, patting everyone on the back. He kept clapping his hands like this was some sports event.
“That was sick! That was siiiiiiiiick!”
He ruffled someone’s hair then ran up to me with an open palm.
“High five dude! WE MADE IT! High five!
“Don’t leave me hangin’ dude!”

The HRRFY.
It’s the horror movie festival where something genuinely fucked happens every year. And I mean every year.
Like, there are some screenings that unleash hordes of bats while the movie is playing. You're free to leave whenever you want, but the movie will still play for 2 hours and 15 minutes.
Other screenings hire actors to turn at you and scream at some point in the movie. You have no idea when, or how many times.
It's a festival where the word "illegal" can't even begin to describe what happens. You'd only attend if you were a young, stupid edgelord like me who was trying to prove he was hardcore to his friends.
Trust me. DO NOT GO.
You have nothing to prove to anyone. Don't be stupid.
Wait for the lamer film versions to come out streaming. That's what everyone else does. They're neutered edits but they're fine.
All they lack is the real gleaming thing everyone wants to see at HRRFY, but who cares. At least you don’t get traumatized. At least you’re not risking your life.
Anyway, if you really want to know what attending HRRFY is like. I’ll be quick and summarize the one screening I went to. It was the 20th anniversary, and I was lucky enough to get in.
***
I had signed up for the HRRFY mailing list, and joined the subreddit. Through a series of cryptic online emails I solved a sequence of riddles and was entered in the lottery for a HRRFY entry.
Lady Luck took a shine to me, because one day in my mailbox, I received a physical ticket. I had done it.
I was going.
The actual ‘ticket’ was a black USB key that announced the location of the festival the night before (which I won’t disclose here) and it did force me to pay for a very expensive flight in order for me to make it on time.
You see, to prevent getting shut down, the location of HRRFY changes every year. Some years the local police have managed to stop it, but for the most part, authorities have given up. What’s the point of arresting or charging anyone, if all the organizers and attendees actually want to be there?
Upon arrival, I had to pick between three participating theaters.
Based on title alone, I decided to go see “Many Drownings” (directed by Oleksander Gołański.) It was in the theater that was furthest away from the downtown core, which meant it was likely the one where the craziest shit was bound to happen.
That’s what I came here for right?
I lined up a solid two hours before the screening like everyone else. The entire line was jittering, just vibrating with excited twenty-somethings. Rumors flew left and right.
“I heard they’re going to force everyone to take acid.”
“I heard an actor’s gonna run in and shotgun the ceiling.”
“I heard they’re going to disappear like four more people this year. At this screening!”
Each year people disappeared. And each year the same people were ‘found.’ And yes this is the worst part, and why should never, ever, ever go to this event.
Again I will repeat myself. DO NOT GO.
No one has ever truly gone 'missing' at HRRFY in any legal or physical sense, because every missing person always shows up a day later, convinced that they are fine—refusing to elaborate further.
There are some small support groups for people who have family members who had gone to HRRFY, and came back irrevocably changed after being ‘found.’
These few unlucky people lose all semblance of personality. They don’t want interviews, or help, or therapy, or contact of any kind. And they never, ever want to talk about what they saw.
Some HRRFY fans think that these ‘found’ people were body-snatched. Cloned in a lab or replaced by a cyborg, or something stupid like that.
But I think there’s a far simpler explanation. The ‘found’ are still the same people. They're just terrified. They got shaken by something that shattered the foundation of their mind, body and soul. They got too scared.
They got HRRFY’d.
***
I should mention I had a cough the day I went. And I was worried my sickly appearance might give me trouble at the airport.
So I invested in an intense double N95 mask which I wore for the whole flight, and continued to wear even at the screening of “Many Drownings.”
It made my face hot and uncomfortable, but it still didn’t stop me from yelling “excuse me, excuse me!” as I ran to snag a seat in the back of the theater.
I always preferred sitting in the far back. You get a good view of the whole screen, and a good view of the whole audience.
Beside me sat a big dude named Sylvester, who apparently flew all the way from Australia to attend HRRFY.
“Worth the full Seventeen hours mate! It’s gonna be epic!” he dropped a massive camping backpack beside me, which I assume contained all of his luggage.
The lights dimmed, and the production company logos started to play.
The whispering, giggling and suspense all stacked upon each other to create an electric feeling in the air. I was giddy. It's like the entire audience was embarking on a massive roller coaster.
The anticipation was the best part for sure. It might have been the only good part.
Then the movie started.
It was a wide shot of a gray, stormy sea. The waves were massive, and the thunderclouds were looming. There was no land visible in any direction.
All we could hear was the sound of waves foaming, swirling, and crashing over and over. Lightning crackled. Rain poured. The camera held perfectly still over this storm as if it was mounted on a perfectly hovering drone. A drone so resilient that it didn’t waver at all.
I thought it had to be CGI.
The shot held like this for the next few moments. Everyone sat glued to their seats. Everyone was thinking the same thing.
What’s going to happen? How are they going to scare us?
People chuckled. People cheered. People wanted to tease whatever was going to happen—to happen already.
But nothing did.
Five, ten, maybe fifteen minutes went by without any change. People started snoring.
I looked beside me and saw that Sylvester—the most excited audience member of them all—had fallen totally asleep. The jet lag must’ve gotten to him.
Then I peered beyond the rest of the audience members and saw other people snoozing too. Heads were keeled over, some people were curled in their seats, some had even spilled out into the aisle and were dozing on the floor.
I looked above the bright screen, at the huge vents in the corner of the theater. I saw a faint white gas emerging from the vents.
Holy shit. What have we been breathing? I tightened the straps on my N95 mask, and made my breathing shallower.
The gas must have been pumping since the opening credits—because how else would an audience of two hundred people all fall asleep?
As I moved my hand through the air in front of me, I could sense the thickness. It was definitely hazier than usual. I took the scarf off my neck and wrapped it around my mouth as well.
Then I spotted movement in front of the screen.
It was a tall blonde man, wearing a black trenchcoat and military-grade gas mask. Beside him arrived six hazmat suits who started pointing at various audience members.
I slunk in my chair, pretending to sleep like everyone else.
Two hazmats walked over to the front row and picked out a sleeping guy in flannel. They lifted flannel up, under the armpits and by his ankles, carrying him between them both like a hammock.
The hazmats walked back up to the stage, where the blonde leader inspected the flannel man and tapped his head. Something was approved?
The hazmats began to swing flannel back and forth, as if they were getting ready to toss him. Despite their masks, I could hear a very muffled, very distant countdown.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“One…”
The flannel audience member was tossed into the screen.
I literally watched him fly into the image of stormy waves … andfallinto them. The flannel man sank into the gray water like a rock, leaving a few bubbles and foam. A wave came crashing down. All trace of him was gone.
What the fuck.
All six hazmats began grabbing more audience members with much more urgency. It became a minute-long process where they would pick the sleeping person up, bring them beside the screen, and then swing-toss them into it.
How was this possible?
I turned slightly to see if there was a projector above me, and realized there was none. Which meant maybe there was no screen on stage.
Which meant … maybe it was a portal?
I tried to wake Sylvester by shaking him. I pinched his leg and arm a bunch.
He was out cold.
The hazmats started grabbing audience members from the middle rows now. They were emptying the whole theater. What the hell was I supposed to do?
I waited until they grabbed another batch, only a few rows down from me. When all hazmats had their backs turned—I broke into a run.
With my left arm, I tightly gripped my mask and scarf against my face, while my right arm vaulted me over seat after seat.
I had never breathed so hard—through so much fabric—in my life.
The hazmats all turned to me. “Hey! Hey!” But their hands were full with their next victims.
I ran all the way down the aisle, to the big exit sign on the left. My heartbeat filled my head. My plan was to dropkick through the exit door.
I imagined myself breaking through like some flying gazelle.
I jumped.
I angled my kick.
It might as well have been a brick wall. I fell ass-first to the ground, followed by my head. Of course the door was locked.
Through a muffled mask I heard a sneering scoff.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Above me stood the one wearing a trenchcoat. I could see his piercing gray eyes through his gas mask.
I rolled aside and tried to run by him. He lifted a foot and tripped me without effort.
My forehead bashed into an empty seat. It dazed me.
The blonde leader bent down and grabbed me by the neck, tearing away my scarf and mask.
“No! No!”
A sweet, ether-like smell filled my nostrils. I did my best to hold my breath, but I could already feel myself getting light-headed.
The other hazmats joined in, grabbing me from all sides. Even if I had the strength to struggle, there was no escape now.
Above me, all I could see was the dark theater ceiling, and some of the light behind me from the cinema screen.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“No. Please. Don’t do thi—”
SPLASH.
I was plunged deep into cold, wet chaos. My head was completely underwater.
Gagging. Bubbles. Spinning.
I fought for dear life, dog-paddling like a maniac.
Churning. Freezing. Panic.
For a second, my head popped above the water. I inhaled all the air my lungs could muster. I stared across a vast, violent ocean.
An enormous thirty foot wave came in my direction.
My whole body lifted higher and higher as the wave approached. I did my best to tread water. It seemed to be working.
Then a series of smaller waves arrived and smacked my chest.
SPLASH.
Spinning. Kicking. Flipping.
My view alternated between the pitch dark ocean beneath me, and the moonlit night sky above.
Again I swam to the surface, popped my head out. Ravenously sucked in air.
There was a small lull in the water.
Around me I now registered the other theater goers. Most of them were lying face-down or sinking … but a few were flapping about like me, fighting for their life.
And above all of us, a floating white shape.
It was painfully bright, I had to lift one hand to look at it.
My jaw dropped.
It was the movie screen, hanging completely still in the air. It showed a dark, empty theater. The exact same theater we all occupied moments ago.
It was tremendously high, above all of our heads. There was no way of reaching it.
Then I saw another thirty foot wave come our way. It grazed the bottom of the screen.
I knew what had to be done.
***
One of the theater goers happened to be on a college swim team. She was the first one able to traverse one of the giant waves and climb into the screen.
Once she was up there, she found a firehose in the theater and reeled it out to us like a rope.
One by one, we swam as hard as we could, praying to God we could reach the rope. Everyone’s energy was sapped. Your body can only sustain itself on adrenaline and fear for so long.
By some miracle, five of us got out.
I was the last.
I climbed the rope coughing and vomiting. I had swallowed so much water that my stomach felt swollen.
When I reached the top and they pulled me into the screen, I sobbed. I couldn’t stop crying.
My life had flashed countless times before my eyes. In bubbling, suffocating visions, I saw both my parents and my brother. I saw my highschool graduation. I saw my favorite Christmas from when I was six years old.
I had almost lost all of that. I had lost almost everything.
On the dirty, carpeted theater floor, I lay with my face down, savoring the fact that I now lay on a hard surface. God bless ground. God bless this filthy, popcorn-strewn ground.
Beside me I heard bantering, hugging, the wringing of wet clothes. Sylvester was the second last to be saved, and he was particularly vocal.
“Wooooooaaaaahh!” He came and drummed me on the back, lifted me up. “Oh my god dude! Holy shit!”
I sat on my knees, wiping the tears and snot off my mouth.
Sylvester clapped his hands, held his face and screamed some more.
“Holy shit dude! That was so fucking scary! Like literally people were dying beside us. Like I SAW people die!”
I nodded, shivering in my drenched clothes. “ I know it was—”
“—That was craaaaazy!”
He laughed and stood up, patting everyone on the back. He kept clapping his hands like this was some sports event.
“That was sick! That was siiiiiiiiick!”
He ruffled someone’s hair then ran up to me with an open palm.
“High five dude! WE MADE IT! High five!
“Don’t leave me hangin’ dude!”

Hey guys! Just wanted to see what my chances are at programs like Rutgers, Sophie Davis, Brown PLME, etc. For context, I'm in 11th grade.
Background:

• Female south Asian
• Northeast
• Competitive public school
• GPA: 3.93 UW, 4.3 W
• SAT: 1580 (800 reading, 780 math)
• 120k+ income

Classes (just listing the important ones): Sophomore year AP Chem (4), AP World (5), AP Seminar (5), Research
Junior Year AP Bio, AP Calc BC (I hate this class so much, might get a B), AP US History, AP Music Theory, AP Lang, Research
Senior Year AP Physics I, AP Literature, AP Government, Multivariable Calculus, Research
ECs

• Research
  • Placed 3rd in my category at ISEF this year (health related research)
  • 1st in my regional fair and 2nd overall at state (got a special award from the Air Force as well
  • Assisting professor in creation of a high level college course
  • Starting clinical research internship at well renowned hospital in NYC (they usually only take med students and undergrads)
  • Will be returning to my ISEF project related research lab this summer as well (so excited!!)
  • Getting citation from my town for all this? Unusual, I know
  • Coauthored a brief case study in the JACC (Journal of the American College of Cardiology)
• Environmental Activism
  • International finalist in environment related competition
  • International finalist in another environment related competition (trying to be vague here, sorry)
  • Have done some stuff trying to improve sustainability in my school
• Music
  • I play a variety of instruments, piano being my main
  • Performances at local nursing homes and hospitals
  • Pianist job at a church, taking on other music gigs as well
  • In my school's band and jazz band program! I play 3 instruments there
  • I do have state certifications/top marks in some of these instruments
• Community/Volunteering
  • Nursing home stuff mentioned beforehand
  • Volunteering at my local hospital (will have 100+ hours by the time I apply)
  • Will start volunteering at my local rotary club and get some leadership there somehow
  • Active in my cultural community through the arts (leading choirs, dancing, singing)
• Shadowing
  • It's very hard to do this with hospitals in my area
  • I shadowed a transplant surgeon for like 5 hrs total so far? I'm planning to shadow more this summer
• Leadership/clubs
  • Treasurer of an honor society at my school for two years
  • Theater for 3 years (was the pianist for one of their shows as well)
  • Audiovisual club
• Awards
  • The ISEF and other science fair stuff
  • Air Force certificate
  • Bunch of district wide awards for accomplishments but I don't think I'll be including those in my application
  • Yeah I think that's about it

I'm a little bit delusional and am leaning towards EDing to Columbia, but I'll probably have an easier time in a BS/MD program. Any and all advice is greatly appreciated!

The HRRFY.
It’s the horror movie festival where something genuinely fucked happens every year. And I mean every year.
Like, there are some screenings that unleash hordes of bats while the movie is playing. You're free to leave whenever you want, but the movie will still play for 2 hours and 15 minutes.
Other screenings hire actors to turn at you and scream at some point in the movie. You have no idea when, or how many times.
It's a festival where the word "illegal" can't even begin to describe what happens. You'd only attend if you were a young, stupid edgelord like me who was trying to prove he was hardcore to his friends.
Trust me. DO NOT GO.
You have nothing to prove to anyone. Don't be stupid.
Wait for the lamer film versions to come out streaming. That's what everyone else does. They're neutered edits but they're fine.
All they lack is the real gleaming thing everyone wants to see at HRRFY, but who cares. At least you don’t get traumatized. At least you’re not risking your life.
Anyway, if you really want to know what attending HRRFY is like. I’ll be quick and summarize the one screening I went to. It was the 20th anniversary, and I was lucky enough to get in.
***
I had signed up for the HRRFY mailing list, and joined the subreddit. Through a series of cryptic online emails I solved a sequence of riddles and was entered in the lottery for a HRRFY entry.
Lady Luck took a shine to me, because one day in my mailbox, I received a physical ticket. I had done it.
I was going.
The actual ‘ticket’ was a black USB key that announced the location of the festival the night before (which I won’t disclose here) and it did force me to pay for a very expensive flight in order for me to make it on time.
You see, to prevent getting shut down, the location of HRRFY changes every year. Some years the local police have managed to stop it, but for the most part, authorities have given up. What’s the point of arresting or charging anyone, if all the organizers and attendees actually want to be there?
Upon arrival, I had to pick between three participating theaters.
Based on title alone, I decided to go see “Many Drownings” (directed by Oleksander Gołański.) It was in the theater that was furthest away from the downtown core, which meant it was likely the one where the craziest shit was bound to happen.
That’s what I came here for right?
I lined up a solid two hours before the screening like everyone else. The entire line was jittering, just vibrating with excited twenty-somethings. Rumors flew left and right.
“I heard they’re going to force everyone to take acid.”
“I heard an actor’s gonna run in and shotgun the ceiling.”
“I heard they’re going to disappear like four more people this year. At this screening!”
Each year people disappeared. And each year the same people were ‘found.’ And yes this is the worst part, and why should never, ever, ever go to this event.
Again I will repeat myself. DO NOT GO.
No one has ever truly gone 'missing' at HRRFY in any legal or physical sense, because every missing person always shows up a day later, convinced that they are fine—refusing to elaborate further.
There are some small support groups for people who have family members who had gone to HRRFY, and came back irrevocably changed after being ‘found.’
These few unlucky people lose all semblance of personality. They don’t want interviews, or help, or therapy, or contact of any kind. And they never, ever want to talk about what they saw.
Some HRRFY fans think that these ‘found’ people were body-snatched. Cloned in a lab or replaced by a cyborg, or something stupid like that.
But I think there’s a far simpler explanation. The ‘found’ are still the same people. They're just terrified. They got shaken by something that shattered the foundation of their mind, body and soul. They got too scared.
They got HRRFY’d.
***
I should mention I had a cough the day I went. And I was worried my sickly appearance might give me trouble at the airport.
So I invested in an intense double N95 mask which I wore for the whole flight, and continued to wear even at the screening of “Many Drownings.”
It made my face hot and uncomfortable, but it still didn’t stop me from yelling “excuse me, excuse me!” as I ran to snag a seat in the back of the theater.
I always preferred sitting in the far back. You get a good view of the whole screen, and a good view of the whole audience.
Beside me sat a big dude named Sylvester, who apparently flew all the way from Australia to attend HRRFY.
“Worth the full Seventeen hours mate! It’s gonna be epic!” he dropped a massive camping backpack beside me, which I assume contained all of his luggage.
The lights dimmed, and the production company logos started to play.
The whispering, giggling and suspense all stacked upon each other to create an electric feeling in the air. I was giddy. It's like the entire audience was embarking on a massive roller coaster.
The anticipation was the best part for sure. It might have been the only good part.
Then the movie started.
It was a wide shot of a gray, stormy sea. The waves were massive, and the thunderclouds were looming. There was no land visible in any direction.
All we could hear was the sound of waves foaming, swirling, and crashing over and over. Lightning crackled. Rain poured. The camera held perfectly still over this storm as if it was mounted on a perfectly hovering drone. A drone so resilient that it didn’t waver at all.
I thought it had to be CGI.
The shot held like this for the next few moments. Everyone sat glued to their seats. Everyone was thinking the same thing.
What’s going to happen? How are they going to scare us?
People chuckled. People cheered. People wanted to tease whatever was going to happen—to happen already.
But nothing did.
Five, ten, maybe fifteen minutes went by without any change. People started snoring.
I looked beside me and saw that Sylvester—the most excited audience member of them all—had fallen totally asleep. The jet lag must’ve gotten to him.
Then I peered beyond the rest of the audience members and saw other people snoozing too. Heads were keeled over, some people were curled in their seats, some had even spilled out into the aisle and were dozing on the floor.
I looked above the bright screen, at the huge vents in the corner of the theater. I saw a faint white gas emerging from the vents.
Holy shit. What have we been breathing? I tightened the straps on my N95 mask, and made my breathing shallower.
The gas must have been pumping since the opening credits—because how else would an audience of two hundred people all fall asleep?
As I moved my hand through the air in front of me, I could sense the thickness. It was definitely hazier than usual. I took the scarf off my neck and wrapped it around my mouth as well.
Then I spotted movement in front of the screen.
It was a tall blonde man, wearing a black trenchcoat and military-grade gas mask. Beside him arrived six hazmat suits who started pointing at various audience members.
I slunk in my chair, pretending to sleep like everyone else.
Two hazmats walked over to the front row and picked out a sleeping guy in flannel. They lifted flannel up, under the armpits and by his ankles, carrying him between them both like a hammock.
The hazmats walked back up to the stage, where the blonde leader inspected the flannel man and tapped his head. Something was approved?
The hazmats began to swing flannel back and forth, as if they were getting ready to toss him. Despite their masks, I could hear a very muffled, very distant countdown.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“One…”
The flannel audience member was tossed into the screen.
I literally watched him fly into the image of stormy waves … andfallinto them. The flannel man sank into the gray water like a rock, leaving a few bubbles and foam. A wave came crashing down. All trace of him was gone.
What the fuck.
All six hazmats began grabbing more audience members with much more urgency. It became a minute-long process where they would pick the sleeping person up, bring them beside the screen, and then swing-toss them into it.
How was this possible?
I turned slightly to see if there was a projector above me, and realized there was none. Which meant maybe there was no screen on stage.
Which meant … maybe it was a portal?
I tried to wake Sylvester by shaking him. I pinched his leg and arm a bunch.
He was out cold.
The hazmats started grabbing audience members from the middle rows now. They were emptying the whole theater. What the hell was I supposed to do?
I waited until they grabbed another batch, only a few rows down from me. When all hazmats had their backs turned—I broke into a run.
With my left arm, I tightly gripped my mask and scarf against my face, while my right arm vaulted me over seat after seat.
I had never breathed so hard—through so much fabric—in my life.
The hazmats all turned to me. “Hey! Hey!” But their hands were full with their next victims.
I ran all the way down the aisle, to the big exit sign on the left. My heartbeat filled my head. My plan was to dropkick through the exit door.
I imagined myself breaking through like some flying gazelle.
I jumped.
I angled my kick.
It might as well have been a brick wall. I fell ass-first to the ground, followed by my head. Of course the door was locked.
Through a muffled mask I heard a sneering scoff.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Above me stood the one wearing a trenchcoat. I could see his piercing gray eyes through his gas mask.
I rolled aside and tried to run by him. He lifted a foot and tripped me without effort.
My forehead bashed into an empty seat. It dazed me.
The blonde leader bent down and grabbed me by the neck, tearing away my scarf and mask.
“No! No!”
A sweet, ether-like smell filled my nostrils. I did my best to hold my breath, but I could already feel myself getting light-headed.
The other hazmats joined in, grabbing me from all sides. Even if I had the strength to struggle, there was no escape now.
Above me, all I could see was the dark theater ceiling, and some of the light behind me from the cinema screen.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“No. Please. Don’t do thi—”
SPLASH.
I was plunged deep into cold, wet chaos. My head was completely underwater.
Gagging. Bubbles. Spinning.
I fought for dear life, dog-paddling like a maniac.
Churning. Freezing. Panic.
For a second, my head popped above the water. I inhaled all the air my lungs could muster. I stared across a vast, violent ocean.
An enormous thirty foot wave came in my direction.
My whole body lifted higher and higher as the wave approached. I did my best to tread water. It seemed to be working.
Then a series of smaller waves arrived and smacked my chest.
SPLASH.
Spinning. Kicking. Flipping.
My view alternated between the pitch dark ocean beneath me, and the moonlit night sky above.
Again I swam to the surface, popped my head out. Ravenously sucked in air.
There was a small lull in the water.
Around me I now registered the other theater goers. Most of them were lying face-down or sinking … but a few were flapping about like me, fighting for their life.
And above all of us, a floating white shape.
It was painfully bright, I had to lift one hand to look at it.
My jaw dropped.
It was the movie screen, hanging completely still in the air. It showed a dark, empty theater. The exact same theater we all occupied moments ago.
It was tremendously high, above all of our heads. There was no way of reaching it.
Then I saw another thirty foot wave come our way. It grazed the bottom of the screen.
I knew what had to be done.
***
One of the theater goers happened to be on a college swim team. She was the first one able to traverse one of the giant waves and climb into the screen.
Once she was up there, she found a firehose in the theater and reeled it out to us like a rope.
One by one, we swam as hard as we could, praying to God we could reach the rope. Everyone’s energy was sapped. Your body can only sustain itself on adrenaline and fear for so long.
By some miracle, five of us got out.
I was the last.
I climbed the rope coughing and vomiting. I had swallowed so much water that my stomach felt swollen.
When I reached the top and they pulled me into the screen, I sobbed. I couldn’t stop crying.
My life had flashed countless times before my eyes. In bubbling, suffocating visions, I saw both my parents and my brother. I saw my highschool graduation. I saw my favorite Christmas from when I was six years old.
I had almost lost all of that. I had lost almost everything.
On the dirty, carpeted theater floor, I lay with my face down, savoring the fact that I now lay on a hard surface. God bless ground. God bless this filthy, popcorn-strewn ground.
Beside me I heard bantering, hugging, the wringing of wet clothes. Sylvester was the second last to be saved, and he was particularly vocal.
“Wooooooaaaaahh!” He came and drummed me on the back, lifted me up. “Oh my god dude! Holy shit!”
I sat on my knees, wiping the tears and snot off my mouth.
Sylvester clapped his hands, held his face and screamed some more.
“Holy shit dude! That was so fucking scary! Like literally people were dying beside us. Like I SAW people die!”
I nodded, shivering in my drenched clothes. “ I know it was—”
“—That was craaaaazy!”
He laughed and stood up, patting everyone on the back. He kept clapping his hands like this was some sports event.
“That was sick! That was siiiiiiiiick!”
He ruffled someone’s hair then ran up to me with an open palm.
“High five dude! WE MADE IT! High five!
“Don’t leave me hangin’ dude!”

Hello, I have been looking everywhere for somewhere to post this because I wanted more opinions, so this is my first time here. I’ve been having some symptoms going on for almost a year now. I was wondering if people on here could help me & I didn’t get any objections to this idea from my other friends, so here we go.
About last year I was talking to a friend who I’m no longer in contact with about some childhood stories, my first day in preschool, a hospital trip, and something that happened during middle school where I heard some sort of very faint voice in my head that didn’t sound exactly like me (I talked to my therapist about it, she suggested it was probably a depression voice since I was hearing thoughts as if I was overthinking or having anxiety.) All three times I started to feel incredibly zoned out, feverish, & it was hard to think. It felt very intense and I’m unsure why, a few days later I was with some friends on VR Chat, I start complaining about how I feel like I’m dreaming, and my friend asks if I’m dissociating, I ask them to clarify if feeling like you’re dreaming can count as dissociation, and they said yes to an extent, I ask my other friends who experience dissociation a lot and they say yes overall.
A few days after that, me and my family go somewhere for my dad’s birthday, it went fine but my mom started talking to me about how I always had a high pain tolerance since I was younger, while we’re eating she asked me if something in my childhood felt normal to me (I won't specify what it was, but it was something medical related to helping me eat) I said yes, so this and my friend asking if I was dissociating made me want to talk to my therapist about it both dissociation and my childhood.
I had a therapy appointment shortly after that and I ask my therapist what counts as dissociation (my other friends have explained it to me, I just never thought to myself “hey I feel like that a lot.”) and she explained to me what does count as dissociation and then I realize “hey I’ve felt like this a lot, maybe even every other day.” I ask her if next time we can talk more about my childhood since I was in and out of hospitals a lot and experienced a lot of other things related to that, and she says yes.
Around now is when I start feeling a pressure in my head a lot, or just a slight pushing feeling in my head feeling like somethings pushing my forehead forward, that or something trying to pull me away.
Next appointment we talk more about my childhood and some other things like middle school, and dissociation, and how I probably do have a lower level of trauma mostly revolving around my medical history, (I don’t recall any abuse or yelling besides my father grabbing my arm sometimes and raising his voice a good amount, he’s better now, just issues with tone.) Like I said earlier I will not specify what it is entirely but up till I was around 3-4 I was horribly sick, vomited a bunch, and had needles poked in me a lot for blood draws, needed a good amount of surgery, was constantly severely swollen most of the time, & suffered a lot of severe pneumonia (though I was still in and out of the hospital a bit till up to 5-6 I believe.)
More context is that I’m in a smallish sized friend group (more than 7-8 people at least.) About 3 people of them were systems, at this point, all 3 said systems told me they suspected me being a system and have been saying a lot of the symptoms seem very suspicious, & my descriptions sound similar to their experiences before they themselves found out they were systems, another 2 systems joined our group later on and they thought the same thing, so that’s 5.
Sometimes when I wake up, I do hear something like “Hey (my name).” quite often (when I hear things it also seems most common when I’m with friends.) I start feeling like I’m losing control of my body, sometimes (an example is I remember playing another game and suddenly I felt incredibly zoned out and I had to “hold on” Is how I’d put it.) Very rarely I do hear things during the day even now (though I thought I’ve been hearing my name get called down as I mentioned earlier, hearing things more commonly I feel like when I’m around others, when nobody did call me in reality, or in a call I hear someone in my head speak sometimes I’ve felt like.) another example is when I was in a voice chat on Discord with my other friends and we were all jokingly arguing about how Maria was said and I swear I heard a faint “Mari-uh.”
There’s not much else, besides constantly feeling a bit disconnected from reality, my therapist doesn’t know too much about the topic of dissociation unfortunately so she can’t be too reliable, my family is trying to look for a psychologist for me, here are some other notes.
-I am genderfluid, sometimes it feels like when I shift genders I feel like my head is melting and there’s a bunch of pressure on it - when I change genders sometimes it feels like it’s triggered by looking at other certain characters from other media (for an example, one makes me feel masculine, one makes me feel feminine, and one makes me feel non binary.)
-Talking to other systems most times triggers my head to flare up, most of the time feeling like something is sitting there (my other friends have suggested it is dissociative barriers.)
I have tried talking to “Maria” a bunch of times before, but it seems more responsive to other people (people saying “hello maria” jokingly, other systems speaking, etc, & flares up at things like me being mean lightheartedly towards my friends, talking to certain other friends, & sometimes when I’m around my dad the pain/pushing feeling flares up.)
-I am very likely autistic, if that is important.
-I have been having elevated blood pressure for over two years now (my therapist has suggested it might be why some symptoms are happening, though I have been on a light dose of medication for a bit, soon to move to a higher dose.)
-I have maybe heard voices when I was younger than 8 though I only feel like that has happened, I’m not too sure about the memory itself.
-I am pretty sure I remember a few instances where I was younger and I have randomly blacked out (mainly during dangerous situations) to wake up somewhere completely different, I have also shut down a lot mentally when I was young and zoned out a bunch - though it is probably due to a bunch of sensory overloads but still thought I’d mention it.
Forever I’ve felt like I’ve gotten these short, small rushing feelings in my head, like something is rushing towards the front of my head (sometimes my vision gets a bit blurry) the short moments of that rushing feeling might’ve been spiking up with how often it has been happening lately.
-Another friend who is a system has suggested things could be active at night because other alters could be feeling safer at that time.
-While I did say "Maria" is more responsive to others rather than me, the pain does sometimes go away when I type out "Please make my head stop hurting" or if I ask for my head to stop hurting. It seems more consistent when I type it out rather than saying it aloud, and if it does work, then I feel like I zone back in a little, even if I didn't feel too zoned out to begin with. It feels more consistent if I use name “Maria” or sometimes other names too.
-I have spoken to my therapist about how my memory of my childhood feels jumbled, as if I can only remember random certain events and small pieces, it still feels like a lot of my memory is missing (an example would be I cannot remember 2nd-4th grade for the most part.) Though my therapist did say missing gaps like that was normal but I’m still not sure.
-If my age is important, I am a 19.
-I’ve always felt a small struggle with who I am as a person, or my identity (I am able to say I am myself, but I’ve always felt a slight struggle at the same time, or I guess an off feeling when seeing myself in a mirror.)
-Sometimes it feels like I’m able to change my emotions as if it’s on command, I’d be breaking down terribly and sometimes I can snap myself into feeling mostly okay, though I am unsure If this is just me repressing those emotions or not.
-The head pain or pushing/pulling feeling in my head sometimes starts when I wake up and is pretty bad for a while.
-Sometimes the pain or pushing/pulling feeling goes away when I'm around others or outside.
I am aware nobody on here can diagnose me as none of you are likely a professional, but I thought it wouldn't hurt to get secondary opinions. I believe that’s all, I just want more opinions. Whoever has read this and made it this far, thank you and please put your own input if you have any thoughts. I am aware I should get a professional for this kind of thing but as I said earlier, my family is currently looking for a psychologist for me, and my therapist doesn’t know too much about these things unfortunately, so I just want more opinions on it to see if I can get more help.