#I'm burning all my history books immediately im done

[lewkwoodnco]

Heyy:) I just wanted to request a George x fem!reader one shot :P I totally understand if you don't want to write it or if you don't like the idea or anything but I was thinking a fic inspired by "wildest dreams" by Taylor? Just some silly teen romance vibes you know🤭 (and please no Angst or anything, I can't take that shit atm😔)

Wildest Dreams - George Karim x Reader

A/N: going to be taking a break from the requests in my inbox to work on my 12 days of fics series! (but will get back to them after im done heheh) I might have completely butchered this ask im so sorry BUT I made it as fluffy as I think it gets (w George at least), just had to do the 77 thing i have no self-restraint, also this poem is soso beautiful one of my absolute favesss but idk whats up with the formatting :(((, wc 3.3k!

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

Subtle Bridges

Walking with me, you'd once pointed to the fragility and ingenuity of a spider's web. Subtle bridges, you said, On bridges some men hang. A warning that has stayed While I read history traced in blood and tears of men. I was caught in the end with a nest of books. They burned anyway, and now I bend to build an emperor's endless wall. Like a thread of longing the border runs in loops and bends, and along it we root the gravestones of nameless men. A king's metaphor, This is, history raised from ash and bone -- a symbol Of its vast futility, or of eternity. Which it is I do not know, But since leaving home some things have come clear. No one literally breaks from loss, not even here. And some ties won't give. I sometimes dream of you, and walking, in gardens where love and knowledge hang.

By Yvonne Koh

She was at the Kensel Green Cemetery with the rest of her team from Fittes, after being called down by DEPRAC because of a robbery. They had spread out over the building, looking for any sign of the missing relic or the culprit, when she heard a slow, grinding noise from inside the hall. She quietly crept in to the silhouette of a shadowy figure bent over the casket.

"Can I help you?"

The boy's head snapped up immediately, painfully slamming against the stone shelf behind him. She let out an involuntary gasp, briefly wincing at the hollow thunk.

"Didn't do it," he groaned, steadying himself against the wall. "...whatever it was that...someone did."

She squinted at him using the little light spilling in from the corridor. He couldn't have been more than a year or two older than her. Against her better judgement, she kept her voice down.

"This is a crime scene!" she hissed at him.

"I - what?"

"Who are you?"

"I'm not a thief, or a relic man. I promise."

Her eyes swept his scruffy appearance critically. "Why would I think that?"

"Ms L/N?"

She turned, momentarily speechless, barely registering the rustle of the boy stealing away into the darkness. She blinked against the brightness of Inspector Barnes' torch, glancing back to check that he really was gone.

"Everything alright?"

She paused for a moment longer, as if willing him to rematerialise in the corner he had been crouching in just a moment ago. Nothing. Her eyes narrowed. Interesting. Very interesting indeed.

"Must have been the wind."

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

George was staring out the kitchen window glumly, lazily stirring his mug of tea. The weather was as pleasant as it got, and Lockwood had roused them all at the crack of dawn for a breakfast picnic, to 'boost morale.' Of course, George should have known better than to hold his breath, especially when loud angry voices had started to shake him awake when he had been halfway through groggily packing their picnic basket. Now, he sipped his cold tea through thin lips, listening to the slow, steady footsteps approaching the kitchen and the wan face belonging to them.

"Let me guess. You and Lucy are no longer in the mood for a picnic?"

Lockwood sombrely shook his head. George sighed, picking up the picnic basket. Seemed like a shame to let his slaving away go to waste. And he was still very much in the mood for the strawberries and cream he had packed inside. Which is why George had been heading out for a solo breakfast picnic with enough food for three when he heard a foreign voice stop him.

"George Casper Karim."

He looked up from the doorknob in alarm. It was the girl from Kensel Green Cemetery. He hesitated, trying to gauge her expression.

"Ex-employee of Fittes Agency, fired after six months for insubordination, currently a researcher at Lockwood & Co."

"Brilliant. Astonishing, really, how you've repeated my own job history back to me."

She frowned. He relished the stab of satisfaction. He'd had a shitty morning and was likely going to have a shitty day, so really, having a go at someone was probably going to be the highlight.

"There's no need to be rude."

"I think I'd know where I've been the past couple of years, thanks very much. Forgive me for not being more impressed."

Still looking a little disgruntled, she pressed on, firmly clutching the waist-high gate. "I've got a bone to pick with you, if you don't mind."

He eyed her warily, and decided against approaching her any further. "You can pick it just fine from over there."

She looked mildly peeved, but he didn't trust her as far as he could throw her. After a few long, tense seconds, she relented, not that she was happy about it..

"So...you were right. You're no relic man."

That was quick. "Thank you. Have a nice day." He closed the distance between him and the gate in a few quick strides, pushing against it, but she pushed right back with a steely look in her eye.

"Don't know about the other bit, though."

He didn't like the look in her eye; the look of someone knowing something he didn't. His mouth went dry.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Might be more convincing if your associate hadn't mentioned a talking skull. Awfully difficult to contain a visitor without a ghost jar, wouldn't you say?"

He swore under his breath. "Fucking Lockwood can't keep his mouth shut."

"I don't expect DEPRAC takes kindly to thieves or hooligans-"

He let out a bark of laughter. "Hooligan? Me?"

"-or strange boys who break into places they shouldn't be-"

"You can't prove it was me."

"Wanna bet?"

A challenge. A dare. His mouth was already open to call her bluff when the self-satisfied smirk curling at the corner of her lip gave him pause. Lockwood wouldn't be much pleased if he gave DEPRAC another reason to steer the agency dangerously close towards closing. He wasn't like Lockwood or Lucy - he was careful, very careful. Too late George wished he had been a little more careful all those years ago in covering his tracks - but, to be fair, he had no reason to think anyone at Fittes would have been capable enough to put two and two together.

Until now.

"Look, why don't we...talk about this, like civilised people? I've got strawb - you like strawberries and cream, don't you?"

She sneered again. George was beginning to think that was just how her face looked.

"You want to bribe me with...strawberries...and cream?"

"It's not bribery. Just...a friendly chat. Agent to agent."

Which was how they ended up on a grassy hill at one of the meadows at the outskirts of London. He had never been there before, but Lockwood had remembered it as a prime spot for cosy family picnics.

"So what else do you know about me?"

She chewed a bite of scrambled eggs thoughtfully before responding.

"You're obsessed with the Problem. An obsession that made you an asset, initially."

She had heard that he was the one who had identified the visitor, Edmund Bickerstaff, but what she had had difficulty wrapping her head around was how he had managed to do it with only the vast yet imprecise volumes of the Archives at his disposal. Imagine what he could do with the carefully curated library at Fittes. She stared at him, trying to figure him out. There was a gentle breeze blowing and the slight movement made him look marginally more affable but not any more comprehensible. She let out the breath she was holding.

"You must have really screwed up for Fittes to have let you go."

He shrugged. "It was a long time coming. Fittes never really was the type of company I was interested in working at, and I was never the type of employee Fittes was interested in keeping."

"What about now? Have you ever considered leaving?"

"Why would I?"

"I've taken a glance at Lockwood & Co's financial records. You can't be making much, if anything at all."

"And go from being broke to being broke and homeless?"

"Homeless? What about your parents?"

"I visit them, occasionally, but they're a right piece of work. Last time I saw them was my grandmother's 77th birthday. I think there was a row but I can't be completely sure because I was a little, er, sloshed. The party ended, and I expect the champagne went flat, and my aunt was the last to leave. She was sitting on the floor with a merlot in her hand, and her voice was ringing through the halls. The curtains were burnt, my parents didn't talk to each other for a week, and one of my brothers had broken his hand. But I could never forget sitting in that empty dining hall, holding those sodden, scorched curtains, listening to her saying nothing lasts forever, nothing lasts forever."

The sunlight had a diffused quality to it, at least the little of it that managed to pour through the layer of clouds blocking the sky. The ashy light threw a powdery glow on George's face, and for a moment she felt as though she was in that dining hall with him, listening to those same laments. He glanced at her, and she felt a sudden, foreign uncertainty grip her heart.

"Now I feel really bad about lying."

His hand slipped, missing his mouth by a good couple of inches, nearly sending the contents of his glass down his shirt.

"Lie? What lie?"

"I kind of haven't, not really...actually spoken to any of your associates."

He chokes on his laughter, and when he throws his head back she wonders if she's ever seen anyone laugh as freely as him. It's a ridiculously enticing sight.

"Touché. Touché."

He looks at her in the eye, unabashed, with an unnaturally casual intensity. It almost feels impolite.

"So...yeah. Maybe I was suited to be a Fittes agent, once upon a time, but not anymore."

"That's a pity."

He looks at her weird, and she hastily changes the subject.

"Do you do this often?"

"What, taking strangers out for breakfast?"

"No. Bring a girl out here, feed her some strawberries and cream, maybe a Shakespearean sonnet or two..."

"I don't set much store in Shakespearean sonnets. I'm not...I'm not much of a poetry person."

There's something reserved in his face that makes her feel terrible for asking.

"I've really only read one worth remembering. Subtle bridges, you said, on bridges some men hang. Some ties won't give. I sometimes dream of you, and walking, in gardens where love and knowledge hang."

He bites into a strawberry, which stains his lips a bright red. She looks away a second too late.

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

After reluctantly agreeing to keep the matter of the stolen ghost jar between the two of them, she never expected to see him again. And yet, as fate would have it, they crossed paths again roughly a week later. She and one of her teammates had been assigned to a Church to handle a relatively weak Type Two, when she heard a scuffling sound from one of the rooms whose door was ajar. Her teammate froze, and she didn't feel much braver either. They approached the room cautiously, rapiers at the ready.

"Hello? Anyone there?"

"Y/N?"

The glare from their flashlights blindly darted over the room before it settled on the floor, illuminating a bleeding George looking the worse for wear, hissing at the harsh florescent light.. She visibly relaxed.

"Oh. You again."

Lockwood and Lucy exchanged a look.

"Do you two know each other?"

A silence followed. George looked to be at a loss of words and she, too, couldn't quite find the right answer.

"We've...met."

They helped George up while Lockwood smoothly explained the situation, and how they would never dream of intentionally From the derisive eye rolls of his remaining, uninjured associate, there was clearly more to their presence than he was letting on, but she wasn't paid nearly enough to go through the trouble of finding that out. Apparently, they had already dealt with the Type Two, so she filled out her report as vague as she dared to be, while they wandered out to flag down a cab.

George lingered behind briefly, dabbing at his nose experimentally while she put the finishing touches to her file.

"We can't keep meeting like this, you know."

"Like what?"

She shook her head, surprisingly having to bite back a smile. "You're incorrigible. If you keep sneaking around for much longer I'll have to report you one of these days."

He pulled his face into an exaggerated sulk and ducked as she tried to smack him with her case report.

"Alright, alright!"

True to his word, their less-than-ideal meetings came to an end. Instead, they continued to occasionally meet at that serene, refreshingly Edenic sloping hill. She'd return from a client meeting or from scoping out a location and the front desk would have a message waiting for her, from one vaguely snippy anonymous man. Sometimes he'd be waiting at the hill with snacks, which she'd ravenously dig into, though he was less generous on the biscuit front. He tells her about the happenings of 35 Portland Row and his research and bounces his latest theory on the origins of the Problem off of her. She tells him about her week, and the bothersome, inept people she works with, and on their joint cases he's snarky towards all the right people. It makes her feel special.

On one such evening, they were lazing on a picnic blanket, and a pleasantly warm breeze was toying with their hair. George was looking at the severe, fragile branches encroaching on the powdery blue sky through heavily-lidded eyes. She was absent-mindedly fiddling with his surprisingly soft fingers, distractedly breathing in the faint, antiseptic smell of ammonia that clung to his clothes. She was thinking about how sharp he was and how quickly he picked up on details on their joint cases. No matter how many times she saw him pick apart a case with a carefully perfected elegance, she felt like a part of her would forever be in awe of his beautifully intricate mind.

"Sometimes I feel like your talents are so wasted here. Imagine what you could do with access to all of Fittes' resources."

"i don't need Fittes's resources to be a good researcher."

She watches the yellow daffodils tossing their heads back just inches in front of them through her eyelashes.

"i know you don't. It can't hurt, is all I'm saying."

"Why do you care?"

She paused. Why did she care? She cared about him, sure, but it was no different from how she cared about her teammates, her friends, but with George...it somehow felt more personal. She sighs irritably, releasing the bubble of frustration lodged in her throat all week. She just wanted what was best for him. It takes her a minute to come up with her hesitant response.

"I...don't know. I don't care. But sometimes I can't help but wonder...what if this was what you needed to uncover the root of the Problem?"

He half-laughs, but stops short at the sight of her face as she lifts her head off his chest. "You can't be serious."

"Why not?"

"Y/N...statistically speaking -"

"All I'm saying is the answer could very well be in the Fittes library and you might be the only one who'd know where to look."

She lies down again, and whispers to the trees rather than George.

"Just...something to think about."

As time went on, their relationship began to bleed into more public spheres. She dropped by Portland Row occasionally, and they even had tea at her apartment once. On this particular afternoon, they were in George's room at Portland Row. She was looking through the titles on his alarmingly tall bookcases while he was at his desk, copying some runes from a book while telling her about his latest experiment with the skull. Her eyes roved over the titles restlessly, unseeingly, in a futile attempt to distract herself from her upcoming assignment. She let George's voice wash over her, pleasingly varied in tone and comfortingly familiar, soothing the itch in her brain. After a moment or two, she realises he's stopped talking, and looks up to see him staring at her with a frown on his face.

"Er, sorry. Drifted off there for a while."

"I guessed."

He studies her with an inscrutable expression and she's been caught too off-guard to come up with anything other than the letter burning a hole in her desk.

"You alright?"

She sits on a chair next to his and rests her chin on her knee, feeling oddly wooden. After getting to know George, she had taken the comfort of being able to somewhat predict his mannerisms for granted, and the thought of heading into this blind made her nervous.

"My team's been assigned a case outside of London."

"Oh. When?"

"We leave this weekend."

He looks too stunned to ask the question weighing on both their minds.

"It's for a month."

"A month," he echoes distantly, as if not quite sure what to make of that piece of information. His face remains impassive and she waits for a reaction which never comes. "What about that celebratory dinner?"

"We leave after it."

"Oh."

For someone who usually always had so much to say about anything and everything, his current conversational skills were desperately wanting. Say something. Be affected, she begs internally. She needs to hear him say it. She needs the sickness in her chest to be real, to be founded.

"It'll be...different without you." The careful look on his face makes her feel like he's picking out her emotions from her face and engineering an optimal response. "I'll miss you."

It doesn't comfort her in the way she expected it would. Suddenly, she can't even bear to look at him.

"You don't have to."

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

Either George had decided that she needed some space or he was just as pissed as she was, because she didn't see one sign of him over the next few days. Good. She hardly noticed. The thousand times a day he crossed her mind were only out of relief, and nothing else. But as much as she pretended otherwise, by the time the celebratory dinner rolled around, his absence had taken a toll on her. She couldn't tell if she was hoping or dreading seeing him again.

She was on a balcony on the upper floor, looking miserably into the radiant foliage of the gardens below, where unfamiliar faces flitted with a lightness of heart she envied. Their shadows are tall and intertwine ceaselessly, making her dizzy. Her bags were packed, her ticket was waiting on her mantle, and all loose ends were tied up. Even her one chance at happiness for the rest of her life.

There's a rustle behind her and she turns to see George standing a considerable distance away from her. He's only marginally closer than the first time they met, properly, when he was standing outside their front door and she was pacing behind the garden gate. She wants to cry in relief. Instead, she finds it in her not to look away. Maybe it's the confusing lighting, but there's a soft edge to his face.

"I thought I saw you come up here."

She doesn't say anything; she's too happy to. And yet, a part of her is still deeply unhappy with the sight in front of her.

"Have you...tried the food?"

"...it's not as good as yours."

"You must be leaving soon."

"Tomorrow." The thought makes her want to rip her face off.

"You'll be back in a month."

She drummed her fingernails against the marble railing, carefully choosing her words.

"What if things change in a month?" What if, she wanted to say, you meet someone else who loves you better than I can?

"It's only a month."

"A whole month."

"I don't understand. Why are you so afraid?"

"Because - because you'd forget me. You'd forget me, and our memories would sink six feet under, and you'd move on and my heart would break and...you wouldn't care."

She's never felt this way about anyone before, and she doesn't know how to express how badly she needs him to stay.

"I don't want to go back to not knowing you, George."

The setting sun burns into her neck and all of a sudden, she feels unbearably hot. Her hair is plastered to her forehead and her hands feel clammy. Her face is flushed and she feels ridiculous in her dress. But he's here, and she's said it, so she lets herself dream, if only for a moment.q

"I think about you every day. One month, two months, three months...I'll wait."

TAGLIST: @avdiobliss @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @mitskiswift99 @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

[symeona]

I’m trying to do research on Artemis,

I’m trying to find a tribe that had connections with Hittite, Scythian, Mycenean and Egyptian ppl. My best guess is that the Amazons of Bana-mighdall have Punic , Phoenician or even Iberian roots? I'm leaning towards Punic, because of Tanit and her relationship with the goddess Artemis.

I’M TRYING.

TO TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY but look where I’m basing all this work on,

This is just middle eastern stereotypes that met pirates and had Lara Croft babies.....

And I KNOW I get ittt. It's """""fantasy"""""" but kill me.

...................*sigh*......................

Where on this Earth did they find all this gold IN THE BRONZEEEE AGEEEEE

HOW MUCH MONEYYY to make A THICCCC SUIT of ARMOR out of GOLD

IT'S A TRIBE OF BRUCE WAYNES how many ppl did they killllll???? WHAT KIND OF BADASS BRONZE AGE BUSINESS WOMEN

It's fantasy.

It's fine. They had contact with modern ppl. Maybe. Possibly. Who knows. Maybe it's polished bronze. Who cares. Why am I crying. Somebody help.

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom, season 3, episodes 1-2 thoughts! I had to split up my season 3 watch awkwardly because the second part of it was too picture heavy and tumblr only wants you to have 10 pictures per post, per the No Fun Allowed Rule. :/ I was planning on just doing 1-6 then 7-13, but, it'll probably be split into 3 posts now... (along with a follow up thoughts post after I finish and think on it for a lil while...)

see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3

-vlad got a new mansion. and the guys in white IMMEDIATELY BREAKS IN AND STARTS SMASHING THE SHIT OUT OF EVERYTHING, DESTROYING HIS NEW MANSION KAJDFHSSKADJKJN. NEVER LAUGHED SO HARD IN MY LIFE. 'the greatest practical joke ever' TUCKER YOU ARE SOOO RIGHT.

-'DAnnY FenTon MadE mE ThE LaugHINg StOCk oF WisCONsIn' if you dont shut up. you made yourself a laughing stock. love the cute pink hotel room. also, Vlad's Naked on The News. VLAD BUYING THE NASTY BURGER TO TEAR IT DOWN. the way they keep escalating these..pranks? IS TEARING DOWN A BUISSNESS A PRANK?? (the metric by which I decide if its a prank is if its funny to me or not. vlads house being torn down? funny prank. local burger place being torn down? maybe not. MAYBE the naked on the news prank was pushing it because he WAS in a hotel just, minding his own business, but like, he stays bothering danny for no reason when danny is just minding his own business, too! its not right but there IS a sense of vindication here. yknow?

-...'at least now he's channeling his sociopathic lonely bachelor energy into something positive!' this is unironically an insult to actual sociopathic people. 'but he doesnt care about other people!' 'and thats why he'll make a great politician!' BRUTAL. but not untrue? I mean, this is not at ALL surprising. hes a billionaire via cheating and lying, and already a huge Slimeball. So yeah, politician is 100% right.

-but did vlad move to amity park? I might be wrong about this, or illinois laws might be different, but I kinda assumed if you're running for election for mayor in a town, that you had to live within the voting jurisdiction and be registered to vote there. I mean, he's temporarily in a hotel and technically displaced rn (...I thought for sure he'd have more vacation homes...) so I guess there's probably a grace period to find a permanent home in amity park?

-ME, CHEERING DANNY ON EVERY SINGLE TIME HE BEATS VLAD UP, BEING SO PROUD OF MY SON:

-'hes overshadowing the voters!' why...are you surprised, danny???? election fraud is Nothing. did you forget he stole BILLIONS OF DOLLARS.

-ok the school uniforms are kinda cute tho lol.

-NO TEENAGERS ALLOWED IN THE NEW RESTURAUNT?? WHAT KIND OF BUISSNESS IS THAT,, SO PETTY. tucker straight up tearing off the security camera. king of property destruction

-vlad trying to make life hell. For a 14 year old. who is trying to genuinely apologize and offer a truce (despite all the creepy and fucked up things vlad has done to him and his family). what the fuck can I even say about this. I think i've said several times while watching 'what the fuck is wrong with you', i need a stronger statement.

-Teens Against McMasters! Fries Not Lies! I want to see vlad get mauled by teens. I want them to start Throwing Rocks.

-vlad saying 'dudes' is the worst thing I've ever heard.

-danny overshadowing the clone was GENIUS AND MAKING HIMSELF LOOK INJURED. SO PROUD OF YOUUUU. USE HIS OWN TACTICS AGAINST HIM. GET HIS ASS.

-frostbite's design is really interesting. ghost...bones... incased in ice?? anyway im so glad danny is getting more hugs :)

-oh, they basically worship(?) or put danny on a pedestal because he defeated pariah?? well IM happy for him having more ghosts that are friendly to him :) also, sam and tucker's lil snow jackets...super cute.

-more ghost lore!!! THE BERMUDA TRIANGLE IS A GHOST PORTAL. OF COURSE.

-VLAD ACTUALLY DID GET A CAT AWWW KITTY I WUV U KITTY. who he plays chess with...okay, you know what, thats so valid. and actually, pets are usually actually good for mental health, you have a lil guy to care for and they can give u a reason to try ur best so u can provide for them, and they are always good for comfort...good job, vlad!! next go to therapy. 'if anyone asks, you're my sister's cat!' so does he actually HAVE a sister? can she come beat him up

-sam is Right. they shouldve immediately taken the map back to frostbite! but I get it, exploring Can Be Fun

-'carnivorous canyon' in the ghost zone is just mystery flesh pit

-vlad is going to burn a 14 year old girl at the stake. you know, I half expected clockwork to come up and stop this, because they're fucking with time, BUT. nope. this is nbd, I guess.

-well, blood blossoms are terrifying. I know 'ive never eaten a vegetable in my life!' was tucker being hyperbolic, but this kid is going to get so many digestive problems if he doesnt Start Eating Healthier.

-...vlad wanted to go to rome and be a god?? I want to know where he self-inserted himself in their already established pantheon. what did he say he was the god of??

-VLAD SET THE ENTIRETY OF ROME ON FIRE. SO THEY PROBABLY ASSUME GOD OF DESTRUCTION. GOD OF ASSHOLERY.

-how embarrassing, to swordfight a 14 year old and struggle to win. lmfao they keep running vlad off every place he tries to take over

-'if i can destroy the first airplane, man will never fly and I will rule the air!' VLAD. DO YOU THINK. DO YOU THINK THE WRIGHT BROTHERS WERE THE ONLY PEOPLE TO THINK OF AND CONCEPTULIZE FLIGHT???! oh my god he is so dumb. people have always been trying to fly even before that, and even if you destroyed (1) plane its not like no one else could make one??? as if people hadn't already been making hot air balloons since the 1700s??? or coming up with concepts, and studying on how to make them work? starting to think vlad shouldve paid attention in college and not been so fixated on maddie. or, I dunno, read a book in his huge library...(I mean, I dunno what he majored in or studied in college, but it obviously wasnt history...)

-vlad getting his ass kicked by snow dogs and getting shidded on by a pigeon :)

-'hes got more in common with us than he realizes!' DANNY IS A YETI??? CONFIRMED (no,, but I hope that means we'll see more of the far frozen! I like them :)

-what in the world was this episode tho. like..okay?? vlads plans did not make ANY sense to me, like, was I missing something , or. WHY is he so fixated on Ruling all of the sudden...sure he might be power-hungry, feeling powerless can do that and I'm sure the accident/being abandoned made him feel that way, but its always felt like his real end goal was just to steal jack's family out of jealousy and spite, not to like. um,, rule rome I guess. ?? theres No Maddie In Rome, Vlad.

[marias-studyblr]

Hey, i'm not sure why i'm telling you this but im really upset and just need to vent. Today my history teacher pinpointed me infront of the whole class (twice) and, long story short, was very persistent with receiving an answer of some sort which i had no idea about. Everybody was staring at me, some were laughing, i felt my face burning honestly all i wanted to do was to run out of the class. As someone with social anxiety i avoid any form of class speaking anyway, but now i cant stop [1]

[2] replaying the events from earlier today and i just feel shit about myself. Im embarrassed that everyone else probably thinks i lack a lot of intelligence and basic knowledge. It’s hard to think when im asked a specific question infront of everyone,it makes me so nervous and my mind goes blank. To everyone this may seem like i’m overreacting but honestly im so upset and im not sure if its normal to feel this way. I dont know how to get over this feeling it’s horrible. I’m so done with school tbh

Hey! You deserve this rant, please whenever you need, I’m here for you!

So it might not seem like it because I’m pretty open in here, but I do exactly what you described. I was seeing myself in your words.

It used to be way worse in the last years of middle school, and in the first years of high school, it got to the point I didn’t really think for myself and all my interactions were based on what the other person wanted to hear or what I thought they would think of me.

Of course it always backfired, because it’s impossible to please everyone at all times, which left me even more unhappy about myself and lead me to more and more mental and physical problems (nothing too serious!). 

I would constantly overthink about particular situations where I was put on the spot at school and cringed over and over again.

It lead to tricky situations, a rough couple of years while I transitioned through that. A lot of hiding in bathroom stalls. And cringy stuff that only I remember by now.

I took way too seriously what other people talked about me, which gave them power. And those people understood it somehow and used it in the wrong way, which made me feel even worse.

I don’t know why. I have a couple of suspicions from my childhood but nothing that completely justifies why I didn’t know how to stand up for myself like most people did.

Looking back I can see how I was innocent and didn’t really understand how everyone, everyone, the students, the teachers, they also had problems and insecurities in their lives. I thought everyone was always better than me when actually we were all the same even with our differences and I had nothing to worry about.

I’m much better now. I’ve learned how to recognize my self-worth, hold myself as an individual. I’m not afraid to look people in the eye, and most importantly live my life for me and not for others.

But I’m not completely secure though. Just the other day I was thinking about this, trying to figure it out. Nowadays, I think my problems come from the huge respect I have for other people. I do this crazy thing: whenever I’m held responsible to someone I get super committed to doing it in the most perfect way possible because I don’t want to disappoint that person, even if it’s a total stranger. And whenever I feel like I’ve disappointed someone, I feel so bad because I just wanted to do it nicely for them. And I know that’s not a bad thing to do, but it comes to such extremes with me, because I overthink it so much.

For example, last friday I realized I forgot to send an email to the librarian to renew my book before 7pm, and I remembered at 10pm. I sent the email but through the night and the whole weekend I felt horrible about it.

It’s not like the social anxiety that I had before, but it’s still some kind of awkwardness that I don’t want to depend on.

So after this detour, let me get to the point. xD

I think we can both agree that we have to be able to stand up for ourselves and to appear stable even in the most embarrassing of situations, both for self-respect, because you don’t owe anything to anyone, you are allowed to make mistakes and be treated fairly, but also because it’s a good thing to have for your future life, you’ll always need to speak under pressure and you need to stop putting yourself through this anxiety everytime you are.

I also understand this is not something you can simply stop doing because it’s irrational. As soon as the moment starts, you get dragged into it and without noticing it your face looks like a tomato emoji.

However, that doesn’t mean you can’t slowly start making a change in your behavior, including practicing the way you present yourself, your posture, the way you talk, controlling nervous tics, answering while making eye contact with teachers and other people without stuttering.

Body language may seem non-important to you at first glance but it’s ALL that matters in social interactions, and this is what helped me overcome that feeling of pure cringe and embarrassment. I just kept practicing and I still do now. I encourage you to start paying attention to how confident people sit and how you sit, how they talk and how you talk. Truly start studying these things, and this is how I improved, it has made my life so much happier, and the biggest difference in my life quality. Truly.

Now, by NO means I’m saying this is going to solve everything overnight. I’ve improved my anxiety progressively and cringe situations still happen to me, but I find them less damaging over time. To finish up, I’m going to tell you an example of a situation of me practicing:

I’m in class, minding my own business. I pay attention to my posture. I sit with my back straight, hands relaxed, body still. I’m not covering my face or bending down. I pay attention to the class. The teacher asks me a question, I can feel my heart rate immediately going up. I focus first on my breathing (inhale and exhale profoundly) and maintaining my posture and quickly go through those physical checks. Even if I’m blushing, I keep eye contact with the teacher and my voice strong all the way through.

This is harder than it seems if you have social anxiety, but this practice really helped me and got me through so much. I still have a lot to overcome but I’ve gotten so many victories already and I want you to have the same, I know you can.

Here are 2 phenomenal Ted Talks that really helped me learn what I just told you about and I encourage you to watch them from beginning to end:

The surprising secret to speaking with confidence - Caroline Goyder

Your body language may shape who you are - Amy Cuddy

So I know this is already pretty long but I still have some stuff that might help you so I want to give it a try.

Confidence comes from within, so self-reflection is always needed. In order to not go too deep on that right now, because that’s a whole other question in itself, I’m going to give you the one piece of practical advice I always give which is recommending Yoga with Adriene, either doing her yoga videos or her meditation ones, or her challenges. Just to keep that positivity flowing in your veins is so important. And if you don’t have a source in your life, I feel like Adriene could be it.

Goals are really important in being confident too, so keeping a bullet journal, or a journal, a vision board, where you write your feelings, your interests, your dreams, might get you through the bad days and give you confidence when you need it the most. I feel like some days thinking about how grateful I am for my family, my home, myself, etc. really gets me through tough feelings I might be experiencing. 

Always share out loud what you are experiencing with your loved ones, with people you trust. Whenever I have feelings bottling up I force myself to spill them to my loved ones because I know no matter how much it embarrasses me to admit them, it always makes me feel better after they comfort me and make me see something differently, and suddenly the incident sounds a little more beatable.

Last thing I want to touch, and I promise, I promise this is the last thing, is those people in your class making you feel inferior. Don’t you shed a tear for them and I mean it. You are the classy one. You are the strong one. You get to keep your head high and be kind to yourself. If someone isn’t compassionate to you, you don’t owe them anything and you have the right to shut them out of your life. You don’t need to keep thinking about them or talk about them. You just don’t do them. You don’t pay attention to what they’re saying about you… they don’t know you. They. Don’t. Know. You. They don’t matter. That doesn’t mean you get to be rude to them, it just means they’re irrelevant. So. With that being said, I hope you understand you are a beam of light, a fucking rock star and you can get through this, you can overcome this school year, and the next one and the next one.

Find the people in your life who matter, who make you feel good. That’s all that matters. Here’s something interesting I read: “Feel bad for people who have the energy to bring others down. Don’t hate them back, feel for them. They are clearly in pain if that’s where they want to spend their energy.” Like I said they’re irrelevant, but you don’t have to be mean back, don’t get inside their game. Be the classy one and always, always, always focus on yourself, live your life.

I honestly want to keep talking for hours. I hope this was enough for you to kick-start a new way of seeing yourself and starting to become happy with who you are. There are so many obstacles in life but positivity is possible, you just have to keep looking for the things in your life that matter, that make you feel good and don’t give up.

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to answer this for you and I hope the advice reaches you. ♡ ♡ ♡ lots of love!