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xcactusarto · 3 years ago

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Heaven Help Me

an Aoyama Yuga x Iida Tenya university au fic

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33615358

Summary:

What would happen if you found out the person that ordered art prints from you is the guy you’ve been interested in and lives 2 dorms away from you?

Poor Aoyama is denying his feelings from all the times boys broke his little heart, but this guy seems different and became even more special after Aoyama finds out this dude is a big fan of his art! Will he deliver the art prints himself or just leave the package at his door?

Part 1 / ?

Chapter 2 -

Aoyama was anxious to spill the tea on what had just happened to Bakugou once he could go back to his dorm. Even if he was excited to spill the beans, his stomach was not in good shape. He knew this feeling all too well.

He wanted it gone.

Aoyama arrived 5 minutes late after having to change routes and hiding between the bushes next to the art building to throw up dramatically. Thankfully his teacher was late so he could calm down and sit down. Aoyama felt seasick despite only having butterflies. Throw up could happen or the shits. ‘Not in this outfit’ Aoyama thought as he gripped his phone. The class only lasts 30 mins. Since his teacher was late probably less. Maybe he could text Bakugou about how sick he felt maybe they could walk together to the dorms.

Baku dear! My stomach is being very bitchy ~(>_<~) could you pick me up???

5 mins passed and Bakugou didn’t answer. Nor did the teacher show up yet. Aoyama looked around and his classmates looked confused as well. Aoyama looks a little to his right and whispers to his classmate.

“Dear, uh do you know if we had class today?”, his classmate looked at him and whispered back.

“Gurlie I’m not gonna lie, this is the first time in the semester I have come to class”, The classmate giggled and said,” Oh, but dude your outfit is hella cute”. Aoyama smiles at his classmate. A girl with a pink afro, a pink headband that made the knotted ends look like horns on her head, and hazel eyes.

“Oh thank you! But I gotta say you look absolutely dashing! Love the colors!”, Aoyama looked at his classmate up and down scanning her outfit. A blue tie-dye crop top with purple spots that went down to her chest. A black bralette under and some pastel yellow sweatpants that gave Aoyama the idea that she could be a dancer. White sneakers with colorful shoelaces. “What’s your name dear?”, Aoyama asked smiling. A small link formed and it was the start of a very nice and stylish friendship.

“Mina Ashido! And you?”, Mina said excitedly as she almost jumped from her seat. She could see this dude could be a great way to pass the class without having to show up. “Yuga Aoyama. Pleased to meet you.” Aoyama and Mina chatted as they waited for their teacher to show up. Slowly the people around them would get up and leave or just chat with each other. The silence of the room cleared up as Mina and Aoyama laughed and talked about their passion for fashion and their hobbies. Aoyama’s perception of Mina was right, she was a Dance major. She was currently doing ballet because she didn’t want her parents to know she was an underground street dancer. On the other hand, Mina learned Aoyama was a digital artist and even got to see some of his pieces. Both were very passionate and frankly, they could be each other’s moral support.

“Hey how about we exchange numbers?”, Mina said and quickly looked around. They were the only ones in class. The classroom was empty and the clock ticking at the front of the class. The class had just ended. Maybe coming to class wasn’t so bad since Aoyama was here. They both looked at each other and laughed. Aoyama’s butterflies were gone and Mina took away his anxiety of shitting himself.

“Yeah that would be wonderful”, Aoyama and Mina then tapped their phone and so they could now talk to each other without having to be in class. Maybe even hang out sometime. As they walked to the door and parted ways Aoyama could notice Bakugou never replied, but his bitch ass left Aoyama on seen. Aoyama was used to it and knew Bakugou would come. Bakugou often forgot to reply , but would do stuff Aoyama texted him to do or asked.

Aoyama waited outside the building for a while. He then sat down and looked at his phone. Scrolled down on his Twitter and Instagram timeline for some time. Aoyama then let out a sigh and got up. He then plugged in his earphones and as he was about to walk away his dorm neighbor called out to him. “Aoyama-kun! Wait up”, A slightly freckled buff guy with green fluffy curly hair called out to him. He wasn’t very stylish , but was always kind to Aoyama. Even though at one point our little Aoyama stalked him because he wanted to be friends with him. I mean he needed a reference for his styling assignment and he was perfect for the outfit. Aoyama stood there and waited for him to catch up to him. “Did class just finish for you too?”, The green-haired hunk asked Aoyama. Aoyama looked at him and explained his situation of waiting for Bakugou.

“Ah, Kacchan didn’t come to pick you up? I can walk you then since we are going to the same dorms!”, his dorm neighbor was always a lifesaver. “Denki is probably at our dorm so I can text him if he can check if Kacchan is there”.

“Please Midori! I’m worried he is oversleeping again. Which I doubt it...He’s probably working out”, Aoyama said as he locked arms with his neighbor. Midoriya Izuku or as Bakugou called him, ‘Deku’, shared a room with Denki Kaminari. Both Midoriya and Denki were his dorm neighbors and often came to watch movies or just help Aoyama with styling assignments. Midoriya was known by the fashion majors as the guy that wore weird shirts. Today he was wearing a pastel blue pullover that had ‘tiny weenie baby’ on it. Aoyama wanted to chuckle , but decided to hold it in. Midoriya’s boyfriend could probably say that was true. They walked to the dorms and as soon as Aoyama got close to the door he slammed it open.

“BITCH YOU HAD ME WAITING FOR 20 MINS OUTSIDE!”, Aoyama said hand still on the door. Midoriya looking over Aoyama’s shoulder. They had caught Bakugou at a...uh special moment.

“CAN’T YOU KNOCK?!”, Bakugou shouted back as he was making out with a purple-haired dude that looked exhausted. Bakugou was still in pajamas while the other was dressed like an e-boy that had just come out of hot topic after his mother had given him an allowance of $10 to spend on my chemical romance merch. That emo boy was Shinso Hitoshi, Bakugou’s boyfriend, and Aoyama’s ex-boyfriend which actually ended well with no heartbreak. I mean they lasted 1 week. Midoriya sneakily walking away then bumped into Denki who was joined by his dark-haired friend. Aoyama looked behind him and immediately then pulls Midoriya as to show proof in an Ace Attorney game.

“I can’t believe poor little Midori had to take time out of his day to walk me back!” Aoyama said as he hugged Midoriya with puppy eyes.

“W-Well uh technically I was walking back so might as well accompany him, right?” Midoriya nervously smiled as Denki walked into the room and held in the laughter he had from seeing Bakugou slightly flustered from being caught getting it on with Shinso. Bakugou then of course starts arguing with Deku as if Deku was the one at fault. Oh well, Aoyama needed to spill the beans on the guy he saw and interacted with so he gathered Denki, Shinso, and Denki’s friend who was just watching the chaos happening in a room full of gays. Except for Denki he had a girlfriend. I mean he isn’t straight, but bisexual so yeah a gay too. Aoyama shoved them to the other side of the room onto his bottom bunk. They all proceeded to sit down and let Aoyama sit cross-legged in the middle while he held a pillow.

“Oh my gosh, guys please help me snap out of these feelings I’m having! I’M GONNA DIE!”, Aoyama said as he swung his arms around dramatically.

“Is he gonna scooter ankle or is he being dramatic?” Denki’s friend leaned over and whispered in Denki’s ear.

“No Sero, he is just being dramatic about something .”, Shinso said as they looked at Aoyama giving them puppy eyes. Sero Hanta, Denki’s friend who was wrapped up in this situation. Sero is a black-haired dude with a nice wide smile. He often just wore pullovers and looked like those dudes that sits right in front of you in computer class and just watching memes or editing Shrek on Ronal McDonald’s body. Those dudes are pretty chill once you start talking to them.

“Just let him spill the tea guys. I wanna know what made him so anxious”, Denki said as he nudged both of the boys to listen.

“So I was walking to class alright?? And then and then I bumped into this guy while I was checking the time on my phone! And then bam this dude was holding me so sweetly and he was so strong might I add!!”, Aoyama said excitedly as he gripped the pillow close to his chest. The boys on the other hand looked at him. Maybe he’s being dramatic, Denki thought. The room of course was still noisy while Aoyama spilled his feelings on the hunk of a man that literally held him as if it was a shojo manga.

“And then he even HELD MY HAND!! MY PRECIOS HAND TO HAND ME MY PHONE!! He also told me to be careful and walked away as if nothing happened!!”, Aoyama sighs after this and just lets his body lay on the boys legs as he dramatically puts his left arm over his face.

“Well, that was something. How did he look like wey?”, Sero asked as he held Aoyama’s arm away from his face. Denki and Shinso nodded. Aoyama then puts a finger on his lips and thinks for a little. “Mind if I sketch him out?” Aoyama says as he signals Shinso to pass him his sketchbook.

After a few minutes, he then shows the boys as he had decided to sit between Denki and Sero. “He looked like this!! He had some weird eyebrows that looked like the Nike symbols!”, Aoyama pointed at the drawing. The boys felt like they had seen him before. They just couldn’t find this dude’s name in the glossary of their minds.

“Isn’t that Iida-kun?”

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mancavecloset · 6 years ago

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The Waterpark - pt. 1

It was a cloudless, mid-August day in the northeast United States. The year was 2012. I had two straight days off from work, which was rare for me, as I’d been juggling three jobs all summer to build up some savings for my first year of college. And for once, all three of my best friends from high school - Sam, Josh, and Kyle - were in town. I was eager to reunite with them and have one last hurrah before we all headed our separate ways for college.

A few weeks back when we’d realized we would all be free for the same 2-day span, we decided to go on a small road trip together. We settled on a mountainside waterpark ‘resort’ a few hours north from where we lived. Though, ‘resort’ was probably a bit too generous a term. I’d been up there for a day trip with my family a few years back, and while the waterpark was neatly built-out alongside the slope of a mountain, with tons of cool rides, pools, and places to eat, the “resort” part pretty much began and ended with a fairly ritzy lodge-style hotel (the place doubled as a ski resort in the winter). On the far south end of the forested property, some campsites and small, rentable cabins dotted the area, with a small rec hall, café, and communal bathhouse in the center.

We decided against splurging on a room in the hotel, since for one, we all were trying to save money for the fall semester. More importantly, we planned to get shit-faced drunk that night, and didn’t want to deal with noise complaints from wealthy hotel guests. Nobody was trying to get an underage drinking citation right before college began. Instead, we went with the thriftier option of renting one of the small cabins, which from the website was said to have two full size beds and a refrigerator. It also had its own grill and fire pit off of the patio so that we could bring our own food and cook. Most alluringly, the cabins seemed to be spaced far enough apart in the woods that we could do a fair amount of loud, annoying, 18-year-old things without causing too much of a disturbance.

I, being the planner of the bunch, booked the cabin and elected myself the driver. I woke up that morning and texted the boys to make sure they were getting up and around. Sam was supposed to be dropped off at my house around 8am, and then I was to pick up Kyle and Josh once we headed out, since their places were on the way.

Sam was the only one of my friends I had really seen at all that summer, but he was busy with band friends, his summertime golf course job, and his newfound passion for yoga, so I really had only seen him a few times since graduation in mid-May. Sam and I did occasionally meet up late at night to drive around, smoking weed and shooting the breeze, but other than that we never really got to see much of each other. I was glad that he was in town and that we had the chance to bond one-on one, since he was the newest of the group of friends. He had only moved to our school about three years ago, and we didn’t really become close until junior year.

Sam was charming and easy to like. He was a bit of a music nerd, and this past year was the drum major for our school’s marching band, but he got along well with everyone. From cheerleaders to football players to artsy wallflowers, everyone seemed to know and like Sam. He was very non-threatening, but carried himself with more confidence than you would expect for having just a 5′6″, 145 lb frame. He narrowly missed being crowned homecoming king, losing by single-digit votes to our school’s admittedly endearing quarterback. Especially impressive, given that he had only been going to our school for just over two years. Sam was naturally handsome, with thick, long-ish brown hair that waved down around to his ears and framed his boyish face nicely. His eyes were big and expressive, and his nose small, upturned and cherubic. He had a wide, almost feminine mouth with curvy full lips, which were contradicted by a masculine, pointed jawline. His smile was infectious, and he always knew how to charm people with jovial banter.

Sam and I shared a few classes together my sophomore year, and though we were friendly with eachother, we never really hung out outside of school. At the start of junior year, we were assigned as lab partners for AP Chemistry. That semester, we became workout buddies. My previous workout partner, Josh, and I had stopped going together, Josh instead opting to go with his jockier friends to his volleyball team’s lifting sessions. As I began to get to know my new workout buddy and chemistry partner more closely, we became fast friends. I started inviting him to hang out with Josh and Kyle, forming the aforementioned core group of four that would be heading up to the mountains together in a few hours. Josh and Kyle quickly took to him and his one-of-the-guys attitude, though when one-on-one with me, he always flashed a bit more of a contemplative and sensitive side. We could talk about deep things that I never really could with Josh and Kyle, which was very refreshing, and allowed me to be more authentic and vulnerable around Sam.

I had begun realizing I was gay right around the time my freshman year started, but I had always been terrified to tell anyone how I was feeling. I knew if I ever told anyone, it’d be Sam. He was just such a safe and understanding guy. He had a few gay friends and it was not something he seemed to be phased by, so I figured he would be the most understanding person I could tell without fear of judgment, or making it awkward.

But my inkling to confide in him faded fast a few months into senior year, when I realized I had started developing sexual feelings for him. This caught me off guard, as up until that point the only guys that struck my fancy were tall, muscular studs and pudgy beefy types who had big appetites and growing paunches. Sam was neither of those, as his short and relatively lean frame would suggest, but he did have one asset (pun intended) that really got me going: his perfectly round bubble butt. No matter what type of pants he wore, the two perky globes protruded proudly from his backside and bounced firmly as he walked. His newfound passion for yoga brought him to wear more athletic pants that often let little to the imagination. The circular slope of his cheeks jutted out below the small of his back at an almost 90 degree angle, rounding perfectly down his rump like meaty tear drops above his hamstrings. The ass truly defied gravity. Plenty of times I’d steal glimpses of it as he changed before our workouts after school, testing the back seams of his Calvin Klein boxers as he’d change from school clothes to gym clothes. But annoyingly, he was hesitant to shower at the school after our workouts and instead opted to go home in his gym clothes. I’d never seen him or his juicy ass fully unclothed. Sam’s body was boyishly smooth- just the tiniest amount of fuzz between his pecs and the faintest little happy trail underneath his cute belly button. No chest hair, no back hair. I could only image how soft and smooth his bubble ass would look in its full bare glory.

While up and showering, the thought of Sam’s gravity-defying butt started to chub up my fairly average cock. I know “fairly average” is not descriptive, but it literally is the most standard cock. If I must describe it (you horny bastards): cut, hangs just slightly to the left, no big veins, a little over 6″ on a good day, and average girth. Though, I do have a nicely pronounced ridge where the head meets the shaft that does give it a bit of character, and at the end of the day I really can’t complain about it. I’d been in swim team locker rooms for four years… there were some pretty ugly dicks out there. For a long time, it had been much smaller, and I worried it would never grow, thus I was elated to have reached the 6” threshold when the later stages of puberty finally kicked in. So, yeah. Average was good.

As the water from the showerhead cascaded over my body, I mindlessly rubbed soap suds up and down my shaft and lazily imagined that Sam was standing in front of me: facing the wall, ass jiggling towards my swelling package. Eventually, I just decided to leave it at half-mast as I cut the water, stepped out, and toweled off, inspecting my body in the mirror as I did.

I was pretty proud at how I’d managed to stay in decent shape despite my hectic schedule this summer. My primary job was as a lifeguard at the local country club. On rainy days when nobody showed up to the pool, I’d do crunches, push ups, dips, and body squats under the roof of the pavilion, since I wasn’t getting regular workouts in like I did during school. Being a swimmer had its perks, like being able to eat whatever I wanted and not gain weight, but it always made my body a little more slender than I’d prefer. My 6′ 175 lb frame was probably no more well-muscled than it had been 4 months ago, despite my rainy day efforts. My limbs were especially lanky, something Josh liked to tease me about since he had upped his workout intensity a few years back. Over the past two years he bulked up considerably, after swapping our tame thrice-weekly gym regimen with daily, 2+ hour training sessions with his volleyball friends. I styled my short, brown hair in a tight coif, and brushed my naturally straight, white teeth. I was good looking enough, but never considered myself much of a heartthrob. I inspected my lean, hairy chest in the mirror. Gotta start benching again, I thought to myself, as I tried to make my baby pecs dance.

I heard a slam of a car door and out of the bathroom window saw Sam exiting his mom’s SUV at the bottom of my driveway. He was wearing annoyingly baggy athletic shorts that went about mid-thigh, and a white t-shirt that he seemed to fill out more than I’d have expected him to. I quickly threw on my Saxx boxer briefs, some cutoff khaki pants, and a RVCA tank top, and hurried out into the living room where my mom was busy greeting him at the door.

“Micah!” Sam exclaimed as I pulled him into a hug. A real hug, not the bro kind that alot of guys half-assed. I guess most people wanted to stave off the slightest hint of anything other than pure masculinity, but Sam didn’t give a shit what people thought about his hugs. It was one of the things I both admired and envied about him. I gave him a friendly squeeze as he smiled, “I missed you buddy.”

Shit, I thought, how long has it been? “Almost a month,” I answered myself, realizing that statement was not really cohesive to what he had just said. I quickly added an “I missed you too Sam,” and smiled warmly back.

“You ready for an epic weekend?” He asked, eyebrows moving upwards as he spoke. I chuckled.

“Today is Wednesday.”

“Oh shit,” he jokingly pondered. So like him to not know what day it was. “Well whatever, it’s a weekend for us! Road trip! Did Kyle give you his most recent pretentious music playlist for you to blare in the car?”

I chuckled, “Oh yeah man, Thom York’s greatest hits only. With a brief intermission for an inspiring TED talk on how to get ‘jacked’ in no time,” I sarcastically air-quoted. Sam laughed.

“Oh Josh, bless his meathead soul,” Sam shook his head in feigned sympathy, the corners of his mouth turned up as his eyes shone playfully.

Josh always meant well, but he had a big ego, and we never let him live down last summer when he came back from a six-week volleyball camp and tried to explain to us how we too could get jacked in two months.

My mom, back from filling my car with what I assumed was her liberal interpretation of “the essentials,” fluttered around us making sure we both had everything packed. “Swimsuits?” Check. “Cash?” Check. “Socks, underwear, towels?” Check, check, and check.

“I put the coolers of food in the trunk!” She called as we carried our bags down to my trusty old Mazda.

“You mean the amount of food that could feed the Packers’ offensive line for three months? Yes, mom.” I chuckled back. She really overdid it. There were six packs of hotdogs, three lbs of ground beef, a small mountain of hot dog and hamburger buns, several bags of chips and other salty snacks, two 24-packs of chocolate chip cookies, 12 PB&J sandwiches ‘for the road’ (it was a 2-hour drive), along with a family size jar of peanut butter, a giant bag of granola, a king size carton of candy bars, a family pack of Oreos, three bags of marshmallows, two boxes of graham crackers, a Costco-sized thing of Gatorades, and eight two-liters of soda.

“Well, I don’t know! You eat alot! And your friends eat alot. Not you, Sam, but Kyle and Josh do!” I rolled my eyes. I really hadn’t been eating a lot since swim season ended, because when I wasn’t training but still eating like my leg was hollow, I’d pudge up a few lbs pretty quickly. I liked my abs, and wanted them for college, so no – I wasn’t planning on eating that much food. She had a point though. Josh and Kyle did eat alot.

Sam chirped in, “Thanks Mrs. K! Plus, it will be good to have extra in case we run into any laaaaadies.” He drew out the ladies part as he shimmied his shoulders at me. I rolled my eyes even harder.

“Okay Sam, what kind of girl would even put a dent in that much food?” I motioned to the cornucopia of coolers and grocery bags basically spilling out of my car.

“Who said it’d only be one,” he winked. I couldn’t help but laugh at that. Sam was little, but he could ham it up bigger than anyone I knew.

“Drive safe! Don’t speed,” My mom said as she kissed me on the forehead.

It was Sam’s turn to roll his eyes. “Mrs. K, do you know how aggravatingly slow your son drives?” I punched his arm and he let out a fake whimper.

My mom moved to kiss Sam on the forehead, which he happily accepted, clutching his heart dramatically. “Hush you. Have fun boys!”

And with that, we climbed in the car and drove off, heading for Kyle’s house.

...

Kyle had been away for the summer at his dad’s house in Kansas City, and his annoyingly scarce use of social media made it impossible for me to keep in touch with him. A sporadic text between work shifts or a call here or there was really all we’d done this summer, and even then it was mostly to discuss the newest music we’d been listening to. Kyle and I loved curating music playlists, and our evolving tastes in music were often a bonding point for us. Kyle was my first friend in middle school, as I was new to the school district and he was in all of my seventh grade classes. We quickly bonded over our shared interest in talking shit about our teachers and rolling our eyes the “popular” girls behind their backs, and soon became close friends outside of school as well.

Kyle was really easygoing, and was always quick with a one liner or funny observation. I liked hanging out with him, because when we were doing something he was into, he took the lead. That was a welcome change for me sometimes, as usually I feel the need to plan everything out and make sure everyone is happy at all times. Kyle didn’t play sports but was always fairly active, so we would often go on bike rides around town or kayak at the nearby state park. He went to the gym a decent bit, but compared to even most serious athletes, he could mindlessly put away ridiculous swaths of food with little effect. Anytime him, Josh, and I had a sleepover in middle school and into high school, he’d almost singlehandedly clean out whoevers house’s pantry before we were even halfway through an all-nighter of video games and movies. His metabolism had to have been the hardest working one on earth, because the kid just ate non-stop. Though he was never what you would call skinny, he never was really big enough to make fun of, or even notice when he had a shirt on. He always had a small layer of chub, especially around his bellybutton and lovehandles, but he certainly wasn’t fat. And the way he ate, he should have been.

Kyle wore artsy t-shirts and hats alot, and his wayfarer glasses framed his face well. He had light, dusty brown hair that wisped down his forehead and framed a very midwestern, salt-of-the-earth set of cheekbones and jawline. His thin lips and broad chin sat below a symmetrical, average-sized nose and intelligent blue eyes. He was understatedly handsome, in the way you would associate with the lead character in an indie move. At the end of high school, his 5′11, 200 lb frame was stockier than it’d ever been for sure, but sturdy and strong too as he started to take the gym more seriously. Growing up, I always relished in seeing his few chub rolls and slight love handles when he would remove his shirt, but those were rare times. He was really only shirtless at the pool, or when we gamed late at night at Josh’s house in his cramped and stuffy basement. It was enough flab to pique my fancy, but never enough to make me see him in too much of a sexual light. He was always, in my mind, squarely my friend. Admittedly, I did sometimes wonder how he’d look if his metabolism ever called it quits and the pounds poured onto that sturdy, rugby-player frame.

I didn’t have to wonder long. As Sam and I pulled into Kyle’s townhome complex, I saw him bound down his front steps in some tight forest green khaki shorts and an even tighter Obey tee. Kyle didn’t wear tight clothes normally, so it took me a few seconds to even comprehend that it was him.

“Man, I’ve always heard Kansas City barbecue is good, but I guess there’s the proof,” Sam said in awe, chuckling dryly as I pulled my car into the parking spot at the front of Kyle’s place.

“Hush,” I almost whispered, not being able to say much else. I was dumbfounded at the change heading down the steps in front of me. Kyle was big. Yes, it seemed like he had put on a bit more upper body muscle, but that was the least noticeable part of his transformation. His thick, fleshy thighs filled out his shorts completely, sending them in slow swaying jiggles as they moved, his meaty ass pushing the waistband of his shorts down to reveal his plaid boxers. Thick arms filled out the sleeves of his tee, his sizable muscles covered in a generous layer of soft flesh as he carried the duffel with his left arm. Where his arms met his torso, the beginnings of moobs strained against the fabric of his shirt, bridled but still visible as they bounced in cadence. The most impressive of all was his stomach, which billowed out and down from well beyond his moobs. The lower you looked, the bigger the belly swelled, and the bottom of the jiggly gut flashed from under his shirt with each step down the stairs. Kyle nodded his head upwards with a smile to acknowledge us, his face relatively unchanged except for a slight patch of extra padding under his chin. It was abundantly clear that Kyle had finally eaten himself past his metabolism’s breaking point this summer. At first glance I estimated that he had gained at least 35 lbs in the three months he’d been gone, maybe more.

“Hey big guy!” Sam was out of the car quickly and collided with Kyle in his trademark embrace, causing Kyle to drop his duffel on the ground with an oof. Sam looked more dwarfed than usual in the shadow of the pudgier new Kyle, his torso nearly disappearing as Kyle’s large arms wrapped back hesitantly. Sam was on his tiptoes, so despite the baggy shorts, his ass cheeks pressed out proudly from the fabric like two wrestling cantaloupes. They wiggled ever so slightly as he continually adjusted the weight on his feet to his toes. Finally released from Kyle’s meaty arms, he playfully poked a finger into the side of Kyle’s gut that had just nearly swallowed him. I silently cringed, not wanting him to draw too much attention to the fact that Kyle had packed on some serious weight.

“Ha, yeah, I’ve been hitting the gym with my dad this summer - in the middle of a bulk,” he smiled, a hint of pride in his voice. He was never one to care about his body much, so it seemed like such a foreign concept for Kyle to be “bulking” for a specific purpose.

"You look like you could lift a house!” Sam said, punching Kyle on the arm. Kyle smiled sheepishly and let out a light chuckle. I was glad glad he left it at that, as the last thing my slowly engorging dick wanted was for Kyle to be self-conscious about his body this weekend.

“Good to see you man,” I ambled up to him and opted for a more reserved bro hug. Even still, just a lightly pressing against him made his stomach give way much more considerably than I’d have thought. Up close, his body seemed even flabbier than it did from the car. My cock stirred ever so slightly at the sight of his now unmistakable gut.

I zoned out a bit as I climbed into the driver seat while Kyle and Sam chatted, catching up as they stood near the car. I became entranced by Kyle’s shirt riding further up his round, flabby belly, until eventually I could make out the bottom edge of a cavernous belly button. I realized that while I had zoned out, Sam had pulled a thing of Gatorades out from my hatchback, as well as one of the grocery bags that contained the PB&Js, along with a carton of the cookies and two bags of chips. He and Kyle were both chugging a Gatorade and fishing sandwiches from the grocery bag.

I noted a considerable dip in my shock absorbers as Kyle finally plopped into the front seat, drink in one hand and sandwich in the other. His belly rested heavily on the upper part of his quads as his fat rolls strained the fabric of his shirt. I shifted in my seat to hide my growing boner as I backed out of the parking space,

“Enjoy the front seat for 3 minutes,” Sam said to Kyle. “As if Josh is going to let our short asses up there to DJ.”

He wasn’t wrong. Josh was notorious for playing the “I’m tall” card and claiming the front seat, but Kyle relished the opportunity to play his newest playlist through the aux cord on the way to Josh’s house as we talked about what he was doing up in Kansas City.

“Mostly I just went to the gym in the morning with my dad and then explored the city. I tried all the barbecue I could,” Kyle said. “It was awesome.” I could feel Sam’s knowing smirk from the seat behind me. “So glad my dad moved there, it is way nicer hanging out there than starving out in California with his fitness-freak ex. But damn if it isn’t hot as hell in the summer. Thank God for air conditioning and Call of Duty...”

I immediately imagined the daily ritual Kyle employed during his time in Kansas City. Wake up, eat his typical four or five bowls of cereal and a muffin or two, go to the gym, venture out for barbecue, get home, peel off shirt (maybe even his pants, I thought, penis hardening even more at the mental visual) and snack non-stop while playing video games and downing sugary drinks. I thought about what I’d give to be a fly on the wall, watching day by day as Kyle grew stronger and fatter, smooth moobs and belly jiggling away as he mashed controller buttons and shoved processed food in his mouth.

I felt my cock start to stiffen impossibly more hard as I drove, as I stole glances at his smooth, jiggling stomach, which was now peeking out from below his t-shirt. He guzzled his Gatorade and munched away on his PB&J, and they were both gone before I had even gotten to the end of his street. I was kind of freaking out - I’d never been this aroused by Kyle, but weight gain was a huge turn-on for me, and it looked great on him. I could hear him conversing with Sam in the background of my lustful thoughts, and I started to feel guilty for tuning him out again as we were trying to catch up. I shifted in my seat again to try and covertly hide my now-raging boner as I snapped out of it just in time.

“Yo Micah, have you heard of ‘Young the Giant?’”

“Actually I have! But I haven’t gotten around to listening to them yet!” I enthused, shaking the lust off for the second time today. Kyle cranked up the volume as the sounds of alt-rock filled the car, and we turned on to Josh’s street.

...

There was weird history between Josh and I. He and Kyle were elementary school best friends, and I was quickly a welcome addition to slumber parties and hangouts once I’d made friends with Kyle in seventh grade. Soon, Josh and I had bonded over our love for sports, our tv-show preferences, and our shared interest in talking about sex. He was always taller than most of our classmates, with dark buzzed hair, a killer jawline, and plush, masculine lips. He had a ruggedly handsome face, yet his features were mostly soft. His eyes were intense and full of emotion; He could make you feel on top of the world or totally disarmed with just a glance. As puberty did wonders for him and stalled for me freshman year, a mix of jealousy and attraction for him washed over and confused me.

Thus, he was a large part of my sexual awakening that year. He dated my childhood best friend, Paisley, from the beginning of freshman year through a decent chunk of sophomore year. Because I was close friends with both of them, I got to hear details from both sides: when they’d had their first kiss, first make-out, second base, and so on. What really piqued my interest was when they started messing around together. I got to hear Josh talk about how great a hand-job felt, and Paisley talk about how long and thick Josh’s dick was.

From then on, I was obsessed with his dick and finding out just how big it really was, even convincing her to measure it the next time she serviced him. I pretended that I didn’t believe that it was really ‘all that big’. So one day, she actually measured. Over 7″ she said, and she couldn’t fit it in her mouth without scraping her teeth on it. Unfathomable to freshman year me, as at that point I was only packing 4″ and I knew that anyone could fit mine in their mouth with ease. I became more and more enamored with the thought of it, as a side effect really, because I eventually realized that I was head over heels in love with Josh.

I constantly tried to see it in person freshman year. At the gym when we’d work out, I’d say things like “we smell, lets shower before we go home.” When I slept over, he would shower and I’d pretend to be asleep so that he would change in the room without worrying about me seeing him, and I could steal a few quick glances at it. Eventually he started to pick up on the attention I gave him, and began reciprocating. When it was just the two of us at sleepovers, he would have me lay on his lap while we played video games. In front of Paisley, he would tease her by having me sit on his lap or big spooning me on the couch. Eventually, it just became a ritual to sleep in the same bed, cuddling and sharing warmth. I loved being held by someone taller and stronger than me. I loved his smell. I loved feeling the rise and fall of his breath. And I wanted more.

Paisley and I had kissed in the school play in eighth grade, and one day late freshman year, she teased Josh that I was the better kisser. This drove him mad enough to kinda-joke, kinda-argue with me about who really was the best kisser, which culminated one night at a sleepover. We thought Kyle was asleep by then, so I felt a little ballsy and said “well I guess there’s only one way to find out.” We leaned closer together, and Josh’s hand grabbed the back of my head and started to bring our faces nearer. I felt the warm air of his breath as our lips began to close the distance and our faces got mere inches apart. I remember his eyes looked at me in a way that caught me by surprise. He looked at me as if he wanted me, and I was sure he knew as I locked eyes with him, that I wanted him too.

A groggy Kyle, without even looking up, mumbled “If you guys kiss I’m leaving.” That was enough to break the tension of the moment. We all laughed it off, but deep down it felt like a blown opportunity, and I then longed for that kiss that never came.

Sophomore year I did get my other wish. He and Paisley broke up, and word spread around the school that he had an especially large member. He made the varsity volleyball team, impressive for a sophomore, and started going to the gym with his volleyball friends more often. We still worked out together when I went, but he was going twice as much as I was due to my 2-a-day swim practices prohibiting when I actually had the time. The rumors, his varsity status, and his swiftly muscling physique swelled his head quite a bit, and at large sleepovers which we now referred to as “parties”, he always made things a bit rowdy. He would joke in front of the group by randomly threading his flaccid dick through the hole in his flannel pajama pants, waiting for someone to notice it. When it finally got noticed, the room would explode in laughter. I remember the first time I saw it. He popped it out while standing up after winning a match of Fifa, and swung it like an elephant trunk by shaking his hips. This caused an eruption of laughter from the mix of volleyball guys and other friends at the party. I quietly left for the bathroom to rub one out. His dick was as big soft as mine was hard.

Soon Josh and I had left the cuddling sessions behind, and our friendship went back to a more “normal” one. We still had fun together, talked sports and girls and movies. I even got to see his dick a few more times when we would swim together at the high school pool. I was teaching him the more advanced strokes that he wanted to learn for his rotc training. But it was always soft, and he never kept it out longer than he had to.

All this to say, I was pretty much past my puppy dog love for Josh by the time we graduated. He was still undeniably attractive, and he seemed to perpetually put on muscle, so he still occasionally entered my lustful thoughts as I’d lay in my bed at night jacking off. By graduation he was probably 6′3″, and about 215 lbs. His handsome face had become more chiseled and strapping as he got older. He had left straight from graduation to vacation with his family at the shore, and then headed off to a two-month volleyball camp at his future alma mater upstate. So like Kyle, I hadn’t seen him since May.

Let’s just say that Kyle wasn’t the only one who transformed over the summer.

“Oh what the fuck, that’s not even fair,” Sam complained from the back seat as we pulled into Josh’s driveway and saw him waving at my Mazda from his front porch.

As I put the car in park, Josh locked his parent’s front door and swung his hefty duffel over his shoulder with ease. He looked like he was an inch or two taller, but more notably was the sheer amount of muscle that he’d impossibly packed on in the past 3 months. His shoulders were the size of melons, his biceps looked like they were seconds away from popping, and his pecs almost needed a bra as they bounced in his flattering grey tank top. He’d cut the undersides of the tank’s armholes to let his riplping lats breathe out from the sides. His narrow waist connected to a well-muscled ass, which was hugged attractively by a tight pair of athletic shorts. A ridiculously big crotch bulge bounced between his thighs as the tight athletic shorts hugged the upper part of his quadriceps, revealing tree trunk legs and bulging calves. Sam’s jealousy wasn’t misplaced – Josh looked cut out of a magazine.

Josh’s size 14 sandals clapped against the ground as he bellowed, “who’s ready to get wehhh-ehhht!” He was in a chipper mood. I liked him most when he was like this, jovial and positive. His eyes were beaming; it was a dorky type of joy he rarely let people see anymore. I couldn’t help but smile as I climbed out of the Mazda. He pulled me tightly into a crushing hug, muscles rippling, lifting me off the ground as I mashed against his boulders-for-pecs. It was a genuine hug, but I almost felt he did it to force me to take notice of just how strong he had gotten.

“How are you, Lank?” Fuck, I hated his favorite pet-name for me, but it felt kind of good to feel like he was kidding around with me in such a happy way. There was sometimes an intangible distance to our friendship now, as if we both feel guilty about what transpired when we were younger. I was glad to avoid those eggshells for the time being.

“I’d be alot better if I could breathe, you giant ape,” I shot back, punishing him for using the lank word. A stupid grin plastered itself on my face. He smiled back, setting me back down to earth as our eyes locked, and I could see the happy glow falter in his irises for a millisecond. “I missed you man,” I said, surprising myself with how much I meant it.

“I missed you too, M,” he spoke quietly, in a gentle, blissful voice that he really only used to use in early high school when it was just the two of us together. It caught me off guard for a half-second before I was able to smile and clasp my hand on his shoulder. Maybe this weekend will be a fresh start for us, I thought to myself.

Sam waited patiently for his turn to maul Josh in his trademark little-guy-bear-hug, and looked his muscular body up and down as I stepped back from the encounter.

“Hulk hug?” He joked, trying his best to wrap his arms around Josh’s broad, solid thorax.

Josh lifted him up and slung him over his shoulder with a single motion, which put Sam’s shorts-straining ass on full display. Josh swung him from side to side, his ass cheeks swaying in the air like two bouncy orbs. Sam’s shirt rode up during the antics, and I took notice for the first time a small but definite pudginess to the south of Sam’s belly button. I put two and two together, realizing Sam had probably put on a few lbs since the beginning of the summer, and I filed it away as something to watch for later that day. Josh finally released Sam from his shoulder by placing his hand directly onto the jostling globes of Sam’s bubble butt, and guided him off of his body and back to the ground.

Sam slapped his back. “You look great man,” he said in a more serious tone, giving Josh the genuine compliment I’m sure he wanted to hear.

“Thanks man,” Josh said, much more humbly than I’d have thought he would respond. “They really put me through hell up there.”

Just then, I realized Kyle had still not exited the car, and I spun around to see what the hold up has been. I noticed him polishing off a second PB&J, as he reached for a third, tearing it from its Ziploc. Finally, he shoved the door open with his free hand. He took a bite of sandwich as he hoisted himself out of the car, and the shock absorbers breathed a sigh of relief as he stood. His shirt, earlier able to fully cover his gut when standing, now gave way to expose two inches of soft belly flesh on the verge of overhang. The shirt must’ve stopped doing its job somewhere between Kyle’s house, and the two gatorades + two and a half PB&Js that he had inhaled on the way here.

I noticed Josh notice Kyle from across the driveway, and saw the slightest evil smile flash across his face before a much tamer expression replaced it. Teasingly, he called out across the driveway, “Perma-bulk!”

I got the vibe that Josh was already aware that Kyle had been trying his hand at putting on muscle this summer. Though I’m sure when he had explained to Kyle that bulking takes a concerted effort to eat more food, he underestimated the willpower to eat that Kyle was capable of.

Kyle was slightly indignant but smiled back. “This is nothing! My dad puts on at least 30 lbs before he cuts!”

I cocked an eyebrow and glanced over at Sam. In a look we both silently share our questioning of Kyle’s weight logic. He’s had to have gained 30 lbs at least during the summer, I telepathically communicated to Sam with a look. He seemed to have correctly translated my facial expression as he mirrors it back my way.

Again, though, instead of taking it further or piling on, Josh retreated as Sam did earlier. “You look solid, man. I bet you could take me in an arm wrestle.”

Kyle took the last bite of his second sandwich and pulled Josh into a tight bro-hug. With a mouthful of PB&J, he responded, “Bet.”

I felt my cock dance in my pants as I watched my two fantasies hugging in the driveway- a tall, hung, muscular stud and a soft, fattening hunk. Kyle’s soft, doughy moobs pressed into Josh’s hard, boulder-like pecs. His big jiggly stomach smashed into the side of Josh’s solid, washboard set of abs. Kyle’s belly rested so low and poked out so far that as they hugged, it noticeably shifted Josh’s bulge. I could make out the outline of Josh’s egg-sized balls, displaced by Kyle’s nearly-overhanging gut. I adjusted my cock in my pants to hide my growing erection, and noticed Sam turning towards the car. “Lets go get wet, bitches.”

I scurried back to the drivers seat, mainly to watch both Josh and Kyle jiggling as they walked towards the car. Josh’s pecs and bulge bounced as he walked towards the passenger side, while Kyle’s gut and widening love handles jiggled as he looped around the car. He grabbed another Gatorade and a bag of chips from the backseat. Josh had nestled his firm muscled ass into shotgun, and his thick, tree-trunk thighs pushed his oversized bulge into view. He looked up towards my face, and I quickly diverted my gaze to the back, catching Kyle’s belly shake as he tore open the chip bag, sending the scent of barbecue flavor emanating through the car.

“You guys have everything you need back there?” I asked as an excuse to watch Kyle shoveling a fistful of chips into his mouth.

“Myupf,” he says back through a mouthful of chips.

I turned my head back toward the dash and nearly bump my face into Josh’s, who was careening his head around to look at Kyle. “Give me some, I’m staving!” He demanded.

“It is 8:30 in the morning,” Sam observed from next to Kyle, incredulously. Again I shot him a quick glance as Kyle handed over the chip bag to Josh and reached into the grocery bag for a fourth PB&J.

“There’s PB&Js?!” Josh asked excitedly.

“Courtesy of Momma K,” I reply. “She packed 12 for the road, so dig in.” I noticed in the rearview Kyle’s face register that his current sandwich was one over the fair limit for each of us, so I quickly add, “I ate breakfast so I’ll probably only have one, if that.” This seemed to placate Kyle as he happily munched down on the last of sandwich number four.

“Same,” Sam echoed. “Well, actually, I’ll probably have a second.” I heard him reach down into the bag to fish out another PB&J. This surprised me, because it was before 9am and Sam had eaten breakfast and a PB&J already, and was reaching for a second one. My cock basically whimpered as it throbbed hard in my pants for the fifth time in a few hours. I imagined the extra calories going straight to Sam’s bubble butt, causing it to grow bigger and plumper. I fantasized about how much rounder, bouncier and fatter his ass would begin to look if he gained even just 10 lbs.

I smiled then, remembering what else was below the sandwiches in the grocery bag. “I think there are some Wegman’s chocolate chip cookies too.”

Josh’s hips twisted toward me as his head turned towards the back, immediately rummaging through the bag to find the carton of cookies. This gave me a wonderful side view of his athletic shorts pulled taut by powerful legs, a meaty ass, and a tremendous dick bulge. He pulled the cookies out victoriously, took three for himself, and passed them around to Kyle and Sam. By the time they got back to Josh, more than half of the 24 pack of cookies was gone. He offered the package to me as I drove, and I pulled one from the carton. One can’t hurt, I thought, glancing in my rearview to see Sam double fisting two cookies in each hand, and Kyle balancing a stack of eight cookies on his meaty thigh.

The sounds of munching and alternative music filled the car as I drove. I was stealing glances at Josh, now on his third PB&J and midway through the bag of chips, his bulging muscly body filling out the passenger seat, and his hefty bulge – could it have gotten bigger? – bouncing in between his thighs with each bump in the road. I glanced again at Kyle through my rearview, his belly looking even more tremendous and starting to grow rounder. He polished off the final cookie in his stack and reached into the carton for more, obviously forgetting that the eight he already had were more than his fair share. I noticed he had unbuttoned his shorts, and the exposed sag of belly below his belly button now escaped his shirt even when sitting down.

I caught sight of Sam, hand absentmindedly playing with the crotch of his athletic shorts, go for the final PB&J in the bag. On top of all of these wonderful visuals, the thought of his bubble butt growing in size and tearing through the seat of his underwear got me even hornier. My cock pulsed through my pants even more, the sexiness of each of my best friends becoming more apparent as we drove. I felt the beginnings of precum ooze into my boxer briefs. This was going to be a better trip than I bargained for.

…

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emotionalsupportaudino · 5 years ago

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literally me just complaining

I am very genuinely hurt by the treatment my school gave me in the three years I was there. This is my gentle full on vent. This is me getting out my incredible pain in a timeline.

When I went to NCC, my mental health was literally improving in strides. Two years and I walked out confident, happy, assured of my own worth. It was such a great school. I had such great friends! I was losing weight, I was running 5ks every day in the summertime, I was learning to love myself.

And then I started at Moore. My first year, my first day, my first class, I walk in at 8:30AM ready to fucking learn. I have my notebook, my flash drive, and my confident spirit. Here I was. I was at this fantastic school. All my professors at NCC were so proud of me for getting there. I was in a class studying my absolute favorite topic of my major: Character Design.

My professor walks in, six months younger than me and with a chip on her shoulder. She tells us that if we’re not pulling all nighters every project, we’re failures. She tells us we have an assignment worth 20% of our grade due the next Friday. A 4-person set of silhouettes from a fairy tale that make each character clearly defined as their characters. She gives us a rubric and only explains 80% of it. I ask about the other 20% and she responds “Oh I’m not grading on that, don’t worry.”

Anxious about this huge chunk of my grade, I skip out on a free music festival with my NCC friends and spend every night until midnight working on this project. I go through dozens of iterations of silhouettes for my characters. And then, I turn it in, and I barely pass. Because she gave me a 1/5 in the section of the rubric I asked her about. I ask her why? “These are too identifiable. They’re too obviously what they are.”

She continues this to the point where the rest of my semester is a fucking blur. I was miserable, having mental breakdowns once a week, and this lasted for about two months before I dropped the class because I was literally on the verge of killing myself.

She puts down every aspect of my personality, my very being. I worked in cut paper when I was at NCC and I did really well at it. I tell her I like working with shapes and it was my specialty at my previous school, she tells me “It doesn’t look like it.” I tell her my favorite games are Persona 3 (this is before 5 comes out) and We Know the Devil. She says the artist behind WKTD is a bad person and no one should play it, and that Persona is bad because why would any adult want to play as a teenager. She catches me listening to Love Live music and makes fun of my taste. When I had thought too hard about my project (a chimera where she literally threw an entire in-depth illustration at us the night before it was due and required us to pay fare to the zoo or she’d take 50% off our grade, WHEN I HAD LITERALLY JUST RECEIVED MY FIRST PAYCHECK and had almost nothing), and had everything about this animal planned, she asks me: “What’s the Latin name?” It was not mentioned anywhere on the sheet, it wasn’t involved at all. She docked me 5% for not knowing Latin

I seek out help, first, from my head faculty. I tell him the things she tells us. He says “oh I’ll talk to her, but that’s just how she teaches.” She comes in the next class talking about how much he praised her and how great she’s doing. She’s even worse to me. I cry in the bathroom for half the class and the head of first year classes catches me and literally lets me cry on her despite the fact I am not in any of her classes and tells me to drop. So I do.

My classmates for the rest of the semester are miserable. Everyone except for me and 3 others in my program are literally miserable for the rest of the semester. She cost kids their scholarships. One of my friends is so bad that literally the mention of this professor’s name causes her to have a panic attack. I accidentally caused one and felt awful.

This professor is the start of my Xanax dependence. And she’s never disciplined.

In the same semester they start teaching 2D animation. Except by start I mean start and finish. We are expected to know everything about 2D animation in one semester. We are never offered another class.

My second semester, two of my classes are taught by a man who DOESN’T KNOW THE PROGRAM and is teaching it to himself as we go along. He smells of alcohol, and at the end of the semester he disappears during critiques. We have to teach ourselves everything, except, SURPRISE. One of the classes is 3D modeling, teaching us the foundations of Maya.

We never learn the foundations of Maya.

Third semester, first of junior year, we find out the school has lied to us from the getgo. After saying every student got 1k for their internships, we find out students get $500. And the other $500 goes right to the school if you paid by month like I did.

We also find out that everything we didn’t learn in our modeling class was super important. Our professor--THE HEAD OF OUR PROGRAM--gives up teaching us and kinda says to do whatever for our 3D Animation class. I ask him how to do several things specifically (2D animation on a 3D model being one of them). He does not know how. He does not bother to learn.

During that semester, my grandfather dies. I am told by my Admissions department job that if I miss more than one day of work for the funeral, I will be fired. I never got time to mourn. I still miss my grandfather. I cried about his death literally every day from October to May.

Second semester of Junior year is a blur because I am having so many panic attacks. I find an internship, but it’s outside of my typical field. That internship saves my life. And that’s barely exaggerating. I hadn’t felt happiness in a year when I started it and suddenly every day was... exciting again. I made friends, I had fun, I felt human.

First semester of Senior year is... rough. But not overly rough, mostly because I’m only taking two classes. And one of them is with one of the three (3) competent teachers I had teach me my studio classes. It’s great. I genuinely enjoy working despite thesis.

I had won a grant in the spring of my Junior year to travel abroad for two weeks at the beginning of September. My head of program swears he will present my game and get feedback. I return and he says there was no feedback. I ask my classmates--he never presented. I never got critique on my concept until three months into it because I thought everyone knew what I was doing.

Second semester of senior year was the worst four months of my life. I had never been so hurt, so ignored, and so honestly lost.

-My senior thesis class is taught by a woman who has no experience in any of the programs we are using. She has never animated in 2D or 3D. She has never programmed or designed a game before. She keeps asking for more work because she doesn’t understand that the 12 hours a week I’m putting in in coding is seriously beginning to harm my health.

-The same professor teaches the modern culture of Animation/Game Arts class. She refuses to touch on queer subjects. Repeatedly. She drops the hbomberguy stream but knows nothing about it. I wind up being the one who had to explain what it was about.

-She requires us to take a trip to New York and doesn’t get funding for us. This includes transportation there and back, subway fare, tickets to events, and meals. Had she mentioned it to ANYONE in administration, we would’ve gotten free meals. She did not. She left most of my class alone in New York City with literally no idea where to go and no instructions on how to get back. That trip cost me nearly $100 in the end. (I did get to see the original Taminella puppet at the Jim Henson exhibit at the Museum of Moving Image, and the costumes from Labyrinth, which was totally worth it and I broke down crying at it because like, Jim Henson means the world to me? I want to be like him. I just want to make the world a little brighter.)

-Oh did I mention we were never fully taught C#, and yet I was expected to code an entire game in it because for my thesis I wanted to combine 2D art and gameplay? Yup. She didn’t know that either.

-They refused to let us know anything about setup for Senior show until less than 2 weeks before hand. We had to pay for anything installed for the show and any decor. Every other major knew at least a month in advance. We had less than 14 days.

-I walked in on my one friend about to harm themself more than once. I found others saying they were on the verge of suicide. I comforted more people than I think I ever should have had to in those last 4 months. Whenever I asked for help, I was met with a door in my face.

DESPITE ALL OF THAT I have a deep love for my underclassmen. I genuinely want the fucking best for them. They’re in that hellhole and they deserve better, and I want to be as much help to them as possible. Our major has no connections in the paid art world.

Last March, due to my work in the library (AGAIN THAT INTERNSHIP SAVED MY LIFE ), I was offered a job teaching game design to kids in an underserved area. It’s good pay and great work and great people. So when they said “We need more people,” I immediately said “Let me get in contact with my school.”

The head of the program and his full time faculty both REFUSED to either answer emails or meet with me and my job leads. It’s good fucking work. I love every second of it. I’m happy doing it. And I know I have classmates who would be happy too.

And they’re refusing to meet with me.

Everyone else I came in contact with at the school was happy to see me again. The deans were happy, my old bosses were happy, my career center was happy, my old classmates were happy!

But it stings to be rejected like that after busting my ass for three years to do my best.

I just... I feel like I’m never enough for anybody. And the damage they did to my mental (and physical) health is irreversible. I got addicted to anxiety medications, I’m struggling to be confident in myself, I literally get told almost daily at work to not do the things the program drove into me.

I’m getting better and learning to be okay again, but... I’m really fucked up by this school. And I don’t know what to do.

(Oh and the school counselor apparently didn’t actually have a license to practice and often told me my anxiety was in my own head and that it was my own fault bad things were happening to me. Like deaths in the family. And the way my teachers treated me.)

#cw: Suicidal ideation #i am okay #this is talking about years ago #if you're a student at my old school currently #heed my warning

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alexandergarciahitegd-blog · 6 years ago

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First Journal for Web Design Spring 2019

1/18/2019

My History with Web-Design:

The first time I ever considered web design was last semester during the intro to design class where we were told to design one. It was horrible, I had no idea how to even approach it and ended up just throwing pixels at a screen until I technically put in enough work to justify turning the project in. I never even thought about websites before then as I always saw them as inconvenient mediums to whatever content I wanted. This reminded me of when I first started in graphic design and literally couldn’t tell the difference between Futura and Baskerville by just looking at them because of how new this field of design was to me. The panic of the oncoming slaughter that would be known as class 576 pushed me to research as much as I could into the field, especially in how to physically make the websites with code. I focused on code in part because of my experience in Adobe programs. Before I can make an illustration in Illustrator, I need to know the mechanics of the program so that I can work at the speed of thought without being stumped. I saw learning how to code as just the web design version of that, though to a certain point I think I was confusing being able to do whatever I want in the browser with being able to design things that are worth making.

I’m coming into this semester very excited for learning how to design for the web.

The First Project Process:

The assignment was to make a website focused on three things that were our favorites in a category of our choice. I may have misunderstood the prompt a little as I thought we were supposed to make a site to house three article listing three of our favorite things in three different categories, rather than one website acting like the article itself listing the three favorites in only one category that the website is entirely dedicated to. I started in my sketchbook before touching the computer just to get some ideas out before I jumped into the computer with no direction and find myself a deer in the Adobe RGB headlights.

Making the initial wireframe in Photoshop was not an issue, save for some elements that found themselves on the same layers as each other which made editing later difficult because moving objects in Photoshop is difficult when they’re sharing layers. I wrote the colophon in my notes as analog paragraph styles instead of trying to work with whatever nightmare Photoshop’s version of styles must be like. I eventually started doing the text in Photoshop to save me the trouble of having to replace everything from InDesign everytime I wanted to change anything, as per Michael Jared’s recommendation.

The problems I started having in Photoshop was when I started working with photos. Usually, I love using PS for photo editing and photo-comps but using it as a layout software is frustrating as each resizing requires manual rearrangement of everything on the page. Making things more difficult was the problem of multiple objects being on the same layer coming back, as they had different rules for how they need to move I needed to constantly code switch between the free objects and the layered ones.

After there were a few basic sketches done using shapes and a system of values to denote the difference between images, texts, and sections, I started populating the file with content, slowly phasing out the shapes. I’m embarrassed to say that the design decisions I made were solely based on the intuition that I don’t have. I decided on a landing page design of a bleed image with some big text over it because that’s what I see on all the web design Instagrams, which is pretty much the only place that I get around to seeing any web design examples for my still shallow internal visual library. The placement of the text and images in a strict and boring grid was based on instinct and my incompetence with working in Photoshop for this purpose completely stunted my ability to explore any other options.

The minimalism in my designs come from my instinct to remove anything unnecessary out of a fear that the alternative is just a mess of content and design elements that I wouldn’t know how to make work. I’m retreating into minimalism because I’m often at a loss for ideas, inspiration, and confidence. I think this has worked out for me a lot in the past as I understand the way to make low detailed content work is to make sure there’s more attention given to each piece of that content, but at the same time I don’t want it to be something I have to do, but rather something I want to do. There is also the issue that I often find my work to be very boring and derivative. The landing page above just reminds me of YouTube, the website that I’m on the most. During the wireframe portion of this design, I was feeling very confident in it and I loved the way it looked. That is until I realized how simple it was and reflected on how little exploration I really did. I fluctuate drastically between feeling overly arrogant and wondering how I could ever survive in this program, something that I expect a lot of designers could relate to.

The image above is of the splash page for the website.

The image above is the article featuring my favorite music genres. The part of the project I’m still mostly proud of was my work with data-bending. I love the process of designing procedural rules for how art should be created rather than creating the final product itself. I put images into Audition and edited them using soundwaves similar to the genres I was showcasing as my favorite to demonstrate how they look in the context of the image I used here with basic shapes and colors. What I wanted was to mix specific songs with the image to produce a more specific result. When I figured out how to do that the final product did not look very good because of hardware compromises I had to make. When I tried to use the image at the highest quality it was 1 hour and 45 minutes long, which meant the song had to be just short of that in length to be mixed properly. I still don’t know if this would work in producing something aesthetically pleasing, you never do until you see the result, but I would like to have experimented with that if my computer had enough RAM for the operation. It’s normal for only 1 in 10 images mixed with sound to look any good at all in my experience, which means experimenting many times in a short time frame is critical to using the medium effectively.

On Code:

I’ve been reflecting on my resistance to learning a bunch of new programs for future projects. I think a part of it is that I struggle to learn new programs through experimentation, but rather extensive tutorials that walk me through the sensory overload of icons, options, and settings. Before the semester I put so much time into making code the thing that I learned that I was a little disheartened to learn I would have to do the same for a bunch of other programs, but I think it will be fine. When I decided to learn code I promised myself I would never limit my design to what I could do with code, but rather learn how to do it later, and as long as I approach these programs with the same philosophy, then while it might be frustrating and time-consuming to learn how to do what I want, it should be more than doable since they are designed for web design, unlike Photoshop. Apparently, engineers think Photoshop is designed for this kind of work, they’re wrong and that’s why I’m not an engineer, that and I’m bad at math.

One of the things I did in preparation for this class was learn how to code. I started to do this because the idea of using illustrator and XD to make images of the idea of a website rather than actually making the website frustrated me and sounded like it was adding extra unnecessary steps. I was approaching code the same way that I approached any adobe program, it was just something I learned the mechanics of so that I didn’t have to learn while I designed or limit my designs to what I knew how to code. This is the same as in illustrator or Photoshop where I need to sketch out a design and hope that it’s possible to learn how to do in the program. The key with code, that I didn’t realize before I started learning it, is that there are almost no limitations or hoops to jump through. If I want to do something with the website, I just type it and it happens, and if that something is complicated then instead of spending an hour on google looking for a setting that lets me do in like is Illustrator, I just break it down into smaller steps and do it. It makes me feel like I’m no longer being limited by the technology when I code because it’s so clear what I can and can’t do.

It’s not that I think my first project would have been leaps and bounds better without Photoshop, I don’t mean to blame Photoshop for my shortcomings with the design, but there were some things that I simply couldn’t do because I couldn’t figure out how the makers of Photoshop wanted me to do it, such as changing the colors of shapes, and Google was no help on this issue. The other reason that coding has felt natural to me is how intuitive it is to start with nothing and build out. In the Creative Cloud, I am given every tool to use right when I open the program, and it’s information overload. I often have nowhere to start and in worst cases, I get genuinely claustrophobic because I don’t know what I’m looking at until I spend at least 10 or so hours being walked through the interface by tutorials. Coding is the exact opposite workflow. Instead of starting with everything and adding rules, slowly making everything more organized and follow those rules and hoping you don’t miss anything, coding starts organized and with every rule and restriction you could ever have because of the defaults, and I work at my own pace to slowly usurp those defaults and write my own rules for how the website should be. It forces me to set the foundations for the design and work out, rather than forcing every idea I have into one document like I tended to get myself in trouble doing in the past. It also forces me to keep the design structured. When it’s in code I feel like there’s a backbone to the site, and I’m building the body on top of it, as opposed to InDesign which feels like I’m just throwing pixels at a screen blindly and hoping that it works. My brain just responds better to the amount of control you get with coding things, which is not something I expected when I first started learning it.

The disadvantage of code is a significant one. The organization and the foundational nature of it does not lend itself well to exploration. If I want to change something fundamental about the design, then I would have to do a significant amount of reworking, whereas with Photoshop I was able to change the core design ad hoc until I liked it. I had very little issue doing my initial sketch, or wireframe, in Photoshop, and I think it’s necessary to start with sketching in a notebook and then moving to a sketching application. So, in an Ideal world I would do the sketching and wire-framing in my sketchbook and Illustrator, and then make the final version in code where I’m not limited to what Illustrator is okay with me doing. I am hoping that Adobe XD will provide the best of both worlds. Where I can change things on the fly without cutting and pasting a ton of text and hoping I didn’t make a mistake when doing so, which is what Illustrator provides and being functionally structured enough that I don’t get overwhelmed, which is the benefit of code. I intend to try coding my websites after making them in these prototyping programs to polish my skills in code and to boost my self-confidence, but I will not make it a priority until it’s time to make fully functional websites, at which point I’ll get Susan to teach me GitHub.

Wrap-Up:

As I said before, I fluctuate between being overly confident and feeling like there’s no way for me to survive in this program. When I was coming into this class I was in the overconfident stage, and after critique where I saw everyone else's work, I’m shifting into the other stage. Based on the work that I’m doing in this class and in Typography 2, I’m starting to feel concerned that I haven’t actually improved in the past 8 months or so, but instead just learned a couple of rules to make something look good despite not having a great concept behind it. Whenever I do something that I’m very proud of It’s usually an accident that I run with, which is an observation I’m not totally uncomfortable with. I know that I’ve improved at least some despite my doubts, and I’m proud of my ability to see the beauty in mistakes when I’m working that often leads to the final works that I end up being the proudest of.

I had a lot of plans of doing a ton of self-directed projects this semester considering I have plenty of time for it, but after a couple weeks I’m deciding to cut those expectations of myself down in favor of focusing much more heavily on my classes and developing specific side skills that I’ve wanted for a long time, such as the ability to code and draw. I’m also making it my goal to become more proactive on social media and build a designer presence there to the best of my ability. With all that and finally getting the new computer I’ve wanted for so long this weekend, I think it’s been an acceptable start to this semester.

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justeverythingprettymuch · 7 years ago

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High School AUs (based on real experiences I’ve had) pt. 2

So, here’s another fifty weird prompts, since people seemed to like the first ones...

(Part 1)

51. You're twice my size and have huge muscles, but you got told off by our teacher for going on your phone, so she took your phone and placed you next to me. I was super nervous, but then you began whispering to me about how the only reason you kept using your phone was because you work at an old age home, and one of the nurses there is sending you updates on the residents. I think I just melted.

52. My friends and I have been calling you "Muscle Man Mark" for the good part of the last two years, but we don't actually know your name or anything about you. All we know is your biceps are the size of your head. One day, you overhear us talking about you and buRST OUT LAUGHING WHEN YOU FIND OUT YOUR NICKNAME.

53. You and your best friend are Russian exchange students and you're in my art class. You are at least a head taller than me and look like you could crush my skull with one hand, but your best friend is the scrawniest motherfucker I've ever seen. You glare at everyone, while he smiles like sunshine. I kind of ship you together... but I'm pretty sure you overheard me say that to my friend, because you both keep looking at me now.

54. Some freshmen stole my group's usual spot and they woN'T LEAVE. You see me getting increasingly irritated because this has been our spot for the last three and a hALF YEARS AND I WILL BE DAMNED IF I LET THEM TAKE IT NOW. You stroll over and tell the freshmen to leave without even explaining why, and they just get up and walk away. Turns out you're their class' assigned prefect, so you pretty much own them AND I AM AWED BY YOUR POWER.

55. My friend and I went to a department store after school. We were apparently more rowdy than I thought because the store manager is coming up to us, looking really angry, but he's wearing a purple shirt and I just blurt out the first thing that comes to mind when I'm nervous... so I say "Doctor Banner this is not the place to Hulk out" and he fucking loses it.

56. Everyone in our friend group knows that we're no longer welcome at the comic book store down the road. There are some crazy theories as to why, but in reality it's because you bought a sword from there and forced me to ducktape it to your arm, then proceeded to try picking a fight with everyone in the store.

57. We were walking through a park in the middle of the night and saw a really weird light in the distance, and our conspiracy-enthused asses immediately assumed it was something crashing to Earth. You turn to me and say; "If this is it, I need you to know... (insert whatever you want)." ... Turns out it was just a weirdly shaped paper lantern.

58. You're my best friend and you've just realized you aren't as straight as you previously thought, but instead of coming out to me in some quiet sort of nervous way, you just turn up at my house one day and throw open the door. Without even checking who was home you yell out; "I'm bisexual, bitches!"

59. We've been friends for years, but we've never been that close. One day you get drunk before school and a teacher noticed, so you get suspended for the rest of the week, and for some strange reason you only told me about it??

60. We were on a school trip and you asked if anyone had a pair of scissors, but no one did. Instead, my best friend pulled out a craft knife and I pulled out a pocket knife with a four-inch blade. You're a little bit concerned.

61. We've been out all night walking around and we've just wandered on to our school's grounds. You insist on climbing up onto the roof - and no, of course we can't just use the stairs, we have to climb a tree and scale the second-storey wall because you're fucking hardcore like that - just so that we can watch the sunrise.

62. You're this really scary-yet-super-smart kid that never really talks to anyone other than the teachers, but one day it's really, really cold and you turn up in a Christmas sweater, and I just... can't compute?

63. You were sitting next to me at lunch while I was searching through my bag for my house keys. I absentmindedly unpacked all the little trinkets I've collected over the past few weeks and just haven't taken out, while you become increasingly curious and simultaneously afraid. I've just taken out 3 lighters, a pocket knife, lip balm, a bus card, a first-aid kit, a small flashlight, a box of matches, like 6 pens, and what looks like it might be a wooden cube covered in blood.

64. We sit next to each other in our music class. I don't know a damn thing about music, while you're pretty much the top student. You're literally in the orchestra and three different bands, all at the same time. I'm barely scraping by in the class, so you take pity on me and teach me a few things.

65. Since sophomore year, you've always been followed around by the younger kids at lunchtime. No one has any idea why, but it always happens. Every semester of every year, you pick one of the students to pretty much become your protege. By senior year, the challenge of becoming your protege has pretty much become our school's Hunger Games and it's absolutely hilarious.

66. Most of our friend group is staying the night at your house, so we've been drinking some beer and playing random games. You and your best friend then decide to put on all your goalie gear and wrestle in the garage, while the rest of us sit on the pool table and question why we're friends with either of you in the first place.

67. I just moved out of my parent's house and into an apartment. You and your best friend are my new roommates, but I only meet you after four days of living there. You call a house meeting as soon as you walk through the door, but when we find you in the living room you've got branches in your hair, mud on your clothes, and you're only wearing one shoe.

68. I had a huge fight with my parents, so I packed some things into a bag and walked out the door. Three hours later, I'm wandering aimlessly through a park and decide to call you for advice, since you moved out of your parents' house for similar reasons. You pick me up twenty minutes later and offer to let me take your couch for as long as I need.

69. I was sitting in the library before school when you came past me and hit me on the head with a pile of paper. When I turn to look at you, you're showing off a twelve-page essay and say; "'Can't do it the night before,' my ass."

70. You had six shots of espresso one after the other right before lunch, then came to sit with our group. You spend the entire hour asking us weird philosophical questions, until eventually you just start asking us what would happen if we laminated certain things. Now we're going around the school asking every technology teacher we find if they have a laminator so that we can test some of these theories. It's for science!

71. You took one of the freshmen under your wing this year, so you go to check up on him at least once a week and insist on buying him food. You have dubbed him your son and will literally tell anyone willing to listen about how great your 'sweet summer child' is.

72. We sit together in class, but we never hang out outside of that class. One day, my friend buys four tickets to a movie premiere for us and a couple of our friends, but one of the people who were meant to go had to cancel, so I ask you if you want to go 'cause I know you've been looking forward to seeing the movie too.

73. We went to go ask a teacher a question, but he gets side-tracked because I'm wearing an Iron Maiden t-shirt and he wants to talk about the band. You keep giving me exasperated looks and whispering; "Stay focused, we're on a mission."

74. I was walking down one of the hallways, when you suddenly pulled me into an empty storage room. Before I can even ask what is going on, you shove $70 in my hand, and then push me back out. Why in the hell are you just giving me money???

75. We were on a school field trip, but you were only there when they were taking the roll (at the beginning and end of the trip), so the next day you ask me to give you a quick summary of everything we saw and learnt for when the teacher inevitably asks us what happened.

76. You came in to a meeting for a club we're both in carrying three bags stacked up with apple crumble in little foil trays. And everyone is just like ???? Why?? Turns out no one in your hospitality class likes apple crumble, so you got 30 trays of it for free.

77. We both take the same bus all the way to the exchange every day, but you usually just get on another bus, while I leave the exchange 'cause I live nearby. One day you have to go to a store that's in the same area, so you ask me what street you have to go down to get there and I'm like "How would I know?" and that's how you find out I don't even know the name of the street I LIVE on, I just walk there through muscle memory alone.

78. I was at the grocery store with my mother. I saw you staring at me, so I smiled and said 'hi' as I passed you, but then you tried to say something back, while still walking, and ended up walking straight into a display. I feel really bad for laughing, but that's honestly the funniest thing I've seen all day.

79. You and your girlfriend just broke up, so you come over to my house to distract yourself. We end up watching all the Godfather movies, drinking a 24 box of beer and most of a bottle of vodka. By morning, we are both somehow passably fluent in Italian, though we have no idea how that happened.

80. You stay the night at my house and sleep on my bedroom floor, but you get woken up at three in the morning by my cat who is not happy about you taking up his pile of blankets.

81. We have a movie night/sleepover with our group of friends. We are each other's wing-people with our respective crushes, but neither of us sleep that well and we seem to be the only people who can put up with each other for extended periods of time, so now it's about four in the morning and we're trying not to wake everyone else up while we're giggling about random inside jokes we have.

82. I came for a sleepover at your house, but you have two siblings who are much younger than you, and for some unknown reason your 8-year-old brother is up at six in the morning playing with fuCKING BEYBLADES ON WOODEN FLOOR BOARDS AND IF I HEAR THAT GODDAMN THING GO OFF ONE MORE TIME, I SWEAR TO GOD.

83. Your best friend, my best friend, and the two of us are passing a relatively small bottle of 'water' (it's vodka, guys) between us, while we walk with the rest of our group through a super posh neighbourhood in the wee hours of the morning. Given that one of our friends lives in the neighbourhood, we've been ordered to be on our best behaviour and not bring any alcohol to this party. Unfortunately, turns out you are the lightest of all the lightweights and now we're trying our best to hide the fact that you're drunk from the rest of our friends.

84. We're walking around our neighbourhood, just trying to explore a little, but we're also drunk and there's this buff as all-hell guy taking his very small dogs for a walk. The first time we pass the guy, we just coo and tell him he has cute dogs, before continuing on our way, but then we pass him again on our way back around the block. The guy lets us pet his dogs, so we end up just sitting on the side of the road petting these tiny dogs while this big-ass guy just laughs at our weird drunk asses.

85. We met at a party a while ago and exchanged numbers, but we've never really spoken much since. One day, you text me out of the blue asking if I want to come to a family BBQ on Saturday. Apparently your parents are super conservative and literally don't approve of anyone that isn't prim and proper. You want to scare them into leaving you alone when it comes to who you date, and I'm the only person you know that a) wears Iron Maiden and Megadeath t-shirts, b) is very openly queer, c) does not give a single fuck about what others think of me, and d) has a reputation as someone who likes to piss off overbearing parents. So... you think I'll be perfect for the job.

86. We both live really far out of town, so we usually get dropped off really early and have to bus for hours to get home. Because of this, we usually end up spending like and extra 3-4 hours a day together, and so we've sort of gotten super close and know way more about each other than anyone else does. Including your strange obsession with making the perfect whiskey.

87. We've been on-and-off frenemies since freshman year, but we've been hanging out a lot lately. Like, almost the entire school day and then we meet up outside of school to watch movies, go to parties or have sleepovers. In the past week or so, this guy in one of my classes has been trying to hit on me and hang out with me whenever I've got a spare moment, but he keeps getting shut down because you're always with me. Now, practically everyone we know is convinced we're dating.

88. You and your best friend sometimes spend your lunchtimes with my group of friends, and you are both super intimidating, but super cute underneath. Most people don't realize this until they see the two of you together because that's almost the only time you guys let it show. Like that time you hand-fed each other pizza, or that time you were trying to sing together but you kept getting distracted and laughing. I ship it SO HAAARD.

89. We were in class and our teacher knew that none of us would be doing any work today, so she gave us a short quiz to do and then started just chatting with us. She is a really adorable and sweet old lady who is always friendly and supportive of us all, though she thinks partying and smoking and stuff like that is horrible. The conversation somehow got onto this fact, and you called me out as being someone who parties relatively often, so I called you out by saying; "Well, you smoke all day every day, so let's focus on that." And our teacher thought I meant you smoke marijuana, and that's how we ended up finding out that this adorable tiny lady doesn't mind people smoking weed as long as they’re responsible about it. AND she once accidentally threw out $300 worth of her son's weed because she didn't realize what it was.

90. One lunchtime you brought up some kind of fact about the Soviet Union, and it reminded me of the story of Lyudmila Pavlichenko... and that's how we found out we were both obscure history buffs and we ended up spending four hours talking about all the random stuff we knew.

91. You're an art student and your folio is due in a few hours. You haven't slept in two and a half days and you've had so many energy drinks that you can hardly even see straight, but you're still really determined to get things done. I come to the art studio at lunch time to keep you company, but I end up having to stop you from drinking dirty water and walking into a wall, since apparently your brain isn't doing the job for you.

92. We're frenemies, so we don't always get along, but we live nearby each other and are usually free at the same times because we have our free period at the same time and often work the same hours. Because of this, we are often the only members of our group of friends that can meet up regularly. One day, I owed you some food so I bought you a 6 for $5 pack of muffins ('cause I'm cheap and don't like you) and came over to your house to watch the Breakfast Club. Your sister and her friend are also there, and they think they're being quiet, but I can hear them talking about how they think we're dating.

93. We went to the beach to hang out with a bunch of people we were friends with, but who were not in our immediate group of friends. Because of this, we weren't as comfortable around the other people there, so we mostly stuck to each other for the night. Anyway, around 9PM a large group of college students sort of stumbled in to where we were all sitting around a fire, and asked if they could join us. By the end of the night, all of the college students are convinced we're dating, won't believe us when we say we're each other's wing-people, and have dubbed us 'Star-crossed Lovers'.

94. You're house sitting at your neighbour's 50 acre farm and invite me over for a few days because the farm has goats on it and you know I love them to death. By the time I have to leave I'm genuinely considering just stealing one, while you think my love for goats is the cutest thing you've ever heard.

95. We went to the beach for a party, but at one point I managed to somehow hurt my toes. I don't remember how it happened, only that you were there and I ignored it at the time. In the morning my toes are kinda blue and I can't bend them, and we later discover that I somehow managed to break two of my toes. You feel really bad since the whole night had been your idea, and you had been involved in how I got hurt, though you won't tell me what happened.

96. You broke your nose twice within a couple weeks, so you have to get surgery to fix it since it's so bad that you can't breathe properly anymore. After the surgery, you aren't allowed to really do much of anything for a while, so I come over with some of our friends to keep you company and make sure you're okay.

97. It's waaaaay too hot outside, but we're supposed to hang out so you come over with ice cream. You find me lying down on my kitchen floor, feeding my cats ice chips.

98. We have our birthday on the same day, so we decide to throw our party together. We invite all of our friends, mutual and otherwise, to your house for the day. By the end of the night, there's been at least three fist-fights, one guy climbed on your garage's roof in nothing but his underwear, and we're both questioning why we ever thought this was a good idea.

99. You're my ride home from a friend's house, but you have to stop at your house to grab something before we go. Once we get there, you make me hot chocolate and leave me alone with your dog, while you go get ready. When you come back, your dog is sitting on my lap - despite being huge as hell - and refuses to move.

100. We jokingly proposed to each other because we're the only people we know who want to have a pagan handfasting ceremony instead of a 'normal' wedding, and one day your mum came up to us while we were at your house and asked you, "Well, have you asked her yet?" And when you asked what she meant she sarcastically said; "To marry you, obviously." Caught off guard, you immediately blurted out; "How did you know about that?" ... turns out your mum actually wanted to know if you'd asked me to come camping with the family yet, but she was suddenly much more interested in "WHat do you meAN YOU PROPOSED?" which led to an awkward hour of us having to explain that you hadn't actually proposed, it was a joke. We swear.

Hope you like my rollercoaster life. Like before, if you happen to use these for a story, I would love it if you could tag me or send me a link or something. I’d love to read them!

#mine #writing prompts #high school au #otp prompts #ot3 prompts #meet cute ideas #writing #prompts #my prompts #lmao my life is still a mess

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772venezuela-blog · 6 years ago

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Podcast Script

[Intro Music]

Rachel: Hello and Welcome to “exploring populism” a podcast brought to you by Cmn 772 at UNH. I’m Rachel Netson and the country I choose to look at over the course of the semester is Venezuela. I’m joined by Taylor Dupere, a fellow student looking at Brazil for her capstone.

Taylor: Hi Rachel, another day another MRP assignment

Rachel: Always a great time with you <3!

[Intro Music]

Rachel: Over the course of the semester we have learned about, examined and written individual assignments and created media projects about populism, media, and the current situations in both Venezuela and Brazil along with the other countries in the world. Today we will be examining how the media has changed Latin America. We’re gonna be taking a look into the ways the media has shaped and influenced populism and democracy in Venezuela and Brazil, along with hearing from fellow students about their opinions on where they get news, and source credibility.

Taylor: We decided to make this podcast as an addition to our media portfolios because we felt that is was important to look at, not only how the media helps populist leaders come to power in our own countries, but also how over time, the media has shaped the way we perceive the world around us.

Rachel: Before we begin, Taylor would you like to give a quick rundown on the current situation in Brazil for those listeners who might not be following the news as closely? I understand that there was a recent election of a candidate who was drastically different from Lula?

Taylor: Yeah, so in the 2018 election, far-right populist, Jair Bolsonaro was elected. It’s been interesting to say to least to see the ongoing changes being made in the country today. For those who may not know Brazil was under Military dictatorship for 20ish years, ending in 1964. We’ve seen a steady rise in economic power, and Brazil has managed to become one of the worlds largest democracies. Ever since the restoration of democracy after the military coup’s, Brazil has been ruled by left-wing presidents, due to the fear of returning to an authoritarian style rule. Which is what makes the 2018 election such popular talk these days. From what I’ve heard Venezuela is in a slightly more off balance place right now with the situation evolving every day, correct?

Rachel: (include a source somewhere in this) Yeah the people of Venezuela have been in a weird limbo with determining who the current leader of the government is. Venezuela’s oil-dependent economy has been in meltdown from a combination of insane inflation levels leading to a humanitarian crisis. It’s also been a country with a lot of political difficulties. President Nicolas Maduro is being accused by a growing number of political opponents of mismanaging the economy and eroding democratic institutions. The combination of economic conditions has resulted in a lot of violence after last years protests calling for direct and immediate elections. The entire country is split between opposite sides. Some are siding with Guaido, while the military is mainly siding with Maduro, but even that is starting to change.

Taylor: Thanks Rachel

[Outro Music]

Rachel: This episode is about the media and how that's been playing a role in the recent events in these countries along with the broader idea of how media influences the way we perceive events.

Taylor: What's the current media landscape in Venezuela? How do most people in your country get their news?

Rachel: Well Venezuelan’s have a broad way of getting their news with lots of potential sources. Chavez and Maduro’s actions have severely limited more traditional media like television and radio and newspaper to the point that it has been a criminal act or physically attacked for saying negative things about their presidencies. Since 2010 with the rising popularity of social media in Venezuela, Maduro has managed to even control those sources by literally blocking out the internet during certain pivotal moments in time. Juan Guido has really rallied people with his use of social media because traditional media outlets aren't giving him a platform.

What about Brazil’s media landscape?

Taylor: Here’s a quote I started thinking about as you were talking: “The lack of democracy, institutional corruption, high levels of censorship, and social disparities have marked Brazil’s past and have had a significant impact on the press in the country and the journalists’ perception of their role for decades.” (Weiss, 2015, pg. 78). Another major factor in the media sphere in Brazil is that the constitutional rights towards media journalism are not being upheld, and that has caused a lot of mistrust in traditional style media outlets. However, I am also seeing that Bolsonaro is extremely active on social media, using specific platforms to his advantage. Did you know he himself paid millions of dollars for fake news sources to spread through Brazilian’s social media apps about his presidential opponent?

Rachel: Wow. That seems ridiculous but he wouldn't be the first. What kind of restrictions on the media are you seeing in Brazil? Is it the same as Venezuela where the actual media outlets are being controlled or is it more subtle?

Taylor: It's being restricted in a different way than in Venezuela. What's happening in Brazil, similar to what we’ve discussed in class, is that large media conglomerates own a large portion of the media and are able to direct the message they are putting out there through that. These conglomerates overwhelmingly supported Bolsanaro in the most recent election so there was biased coverage by a lot of large media sources, and the people who spoke against him often faced threats and other acts of violence.

Rachel: Do you think that has impacted the way people view news and the Brazilians trust of the media?

Taylor: Absolutely, actually check out this clip that emulates that really well

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZP8uT-bZhPY (3:16-3:38)

Taylor: While doing the research on this we were curious to see what others thought about this situation so we conducted some street interviews asking people, “ Do you believe what you hear in the media? How do you differentiate what you believe vs. what you don't believe? Here’s what some people had said:

[INTERVIEW RESPONSES]

Person 1: I believe what I read on social media depending on the source it’s coming from. So I get most of my news from buzzfeed news on Instagram or daily mail on snapchat, rather than watching CNN or FOX news

Person 2: Alright, I do not believe everything I hear on the media, it depends on the source it’s coming from and what the information is. For example, if there is a lot of evidence to support it and it seems legit then I would probably believe it

Person 3: Ok when im looking at news or stories that are breaking I tend to not trust the bigger news sources as much, such as Fox news or CNN... um because I feel like they rush to get stories out and maybe don’t get all the info so I tend to, I can’t think of any specifics but I tend to do a little more google searching and looking for like some smaller name journalist and journalism and I tend to trust those a little more, because they seem to have the fuller scoop

Person 2: So, if I have a set belief and I hear something that aligns with those beliefs i’ll be more likely to believe that, because nowadays if I hear something negative about Trump for example, I automatically just believe it because something negative about Trump to me, just seems very realistic.

Rachel: I really like some of the points that people made here, like social media being more palatable for the masses, which gets me thinking about fake news as a media tool in Latin America.

Taylor: Hannan illustrates an example of looking at media as a technology and as a medium. I think understanding this can better explain how people fall for fake news and corruption that is delivered through media on a daily basis. Hannan continues to talk about how the way media is understood varies from culture to culture. In the U.S television is looked at as amusement and entertainment. However, you can also look deeper at the type of discourse that entertainment is promoting. (Hannan, 2018, 216).

Rachel: Ohhh so sort of like how in Brazil and Venezuela, Whatsapp, a texting app used in the U.S is viewed as a news source for people in Brazil?

Taylor: Exactly! And in Venezuela, they do the same, including organizing protests around the presidential elections this past year.

Rachel: Yeah, I think that sometimes we think that social media is actually very democratic in the sense that every person has a voice that has equal opportunity to be heard. But in reality, social media is just another large bubble that is controlled by outside sources, that it can be even harder to see that traditional media outlets.

Taylor: Totally! I feel like with TV and radio and newspapers you know more about who’s behind it, it almost feels more transparent. With social media, at least to me, and I guess to some of the interviews we have conducted on campus it seems that social media feels more authentic and fair.

Rachel: I feel like overtime we have seen so much of it come out as biased, or corrupted I think that we perceive it as a more Government influenced while social media and exchanges on places like WhatsApp which is popular in our, or any other platform we feel like they are maybe not more accurate on a case by case basis but if we see something enough we start wondering, hey is this true?

Taylor: Yeah sometimes I catch myself thinking - if it’s everywhere it must be true and I think other people might do the same? This ties into what we talked about in class where we feel like its not “fake news” or it feels plausible so we feel like it must be true because it makes sense but in reality platforms and the internet are just as controllable by outside sources . I think that what happened with Trump and Russia is a good illustrator of this.

Rachel: This makes me think of the reading by Moffit about mediatization that discussed how the media wants to capture people’s attention. The way that something is reported on is purposefully framed to get people’s attention. While the news is supposed to be objective can it ever truly be if it needs to make money? (Moffit, 2016, 75)

Taylor: I agree, outside forces always have to have incentives, whether it be money or power.

Just to wrap up, I think that what we’ve seen is that in both of our countries the media feels to be heavily biased, controlled, and untrusted and even though the political ideologies of their bias are different it's important as a society to understand that it’s hard for media to ever be truly free.

Rachel: I think the lingering question in my mind after this podcast and the entire class will be “Is there a way that the media can ever be truly unbiased while giving people a high level of freedom of speech or is the only way to have true media is to instill a higher amount of power to an authority to control it. Is there anything that can be done to keep the media from being influenced?

Taylor: As we’ve seen in both our countries and others when we allow certain groups power over the media it quickly can lead to a loss of democracy. So our remaining question is, is there a way to balance both: democracy and power?

Sources:

Weiss, A. S. (2015). The digital and social media journalist: A comparative analysis of journalists in Argentina, Brazil, Colombia, Mexico, and Peru. International Communication Gazette, 77(1), 74–101. https://doi.org/10.1177/1748048514556985

Hannan, J. (2018). Trolling ourselves to death? Social media and post-truth politics. European Journal of Communication, 33(2), 214-226. doi:10.1177/0267323118760323

Moffitt, Benjamin. “Stage I: Populism and the Media - University Press Scholarship.” Stage I: Populism and the Media - University Press Scholarship, Stanford University Press, 15 Jan. 2017, www.universitypressscholarship.com/view/10.11126/stanford/9780804796132.001.0001/upso-9780804796132-chapter-005.

Capetillo-Ponce, Jorge, "Venezuela in the Times of Chavez: A Study on Media, Charisma, and Social Polarization” (2007). Sociology Faculty Publication Series. Paper 8. http://scholarworks.umb.edu/sociology_faculty_pubs/8

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smashdraws · 8 years ago

Text

The things I’ve learned from art school: part 1/?

I’m a second year illustration student, and I’m here to share with you pearls of wisdom from what I’ve experienced and learned in college (so far), from the actual drawing process to attitudes about art/drawing. Most of these things I’ve learned the hard way, and some are from things I’ve seen others struggle with.

The most work you should be doing in your drawing process is thumbnails/sketching stage.

“There’s no point in finishing a drawing if it’s flawed from the beginning”. That’s what my Composition & Transparent Media professor constantly told us. During our first piece of the semester, he had us stay on the sketching and redrawing stage for a little over a month in order to perfect them. He wanted to make sure the perspective was right, composition was pushed to its fullest, details were added to make every space interesting, the whole shebang. Obviously you’re probably not going to spend a whole month redrawing a piece over and over every time you draw, especially if it’s a time-sensitive project or just a personal piece you’re doing for funsies. However, the sketching stage is where most of the creativity happens. You have to decide on composition, scale, design elements, characters and how they’re positioned in the space, environment, and so much more. And I’d be willing to bet that you won’t get it right the first time.

Give yourself projects when you aren’t in school.

It helps with artist block. The summer between freshman and sophomore year of school I could probably count the number of drawings I did on one hand. To be fair, I was working two jobs 6 days a week so i didn’t exactly have a lot of time, but I found that once I got out of school I had zero drive or ideas. Without assignments from class to draw for, I had nothing to draw, and when I got back to school for sophomore year I had a lot of trouble getting inspired again. It made the beginning of the year really hard for me. Find something, ANYTHING, to draw while you’re out of school, even if you draw fanart for one thing all summer, at least you’re still drawing.

If a character in your drawing is reminiscent of another character/too generic, think about altering it- especially if it’s a work that focuses on said character.

This really only applies for artists who’s focus/career is character design, but it’s still relevant to others. As painful as it is to hear, it means you might not be pushing your concepts enough. I took a class on Concept Art, and the first assignment was character design. A few of mine were deemed too generic looking, and one was too reminiscent of an existing character. It really hurt to hear, especially since I pride myself on character design and they were for a story I’ve had in development for over 6 years. It really made me feel like shit and made me not want to develop the characters further. But I needed to hear it, and I had to continue developing them for the class, so I ended up overhauling and redesigning the characters until they didn’t seem like the same ones anymore in order to make them more interesting. I hated it, but it’s what I had to do.

That being said, things like this really make you think about distinguishing your characters and art from others out there. It’s essentially impossible to be 100% original, but that doesn’t mean you cant try your damnedest to make your ideas as close to original as they can get without getting overcomplicated.

When designing characters, mix up the body shape and facial features.

This one is kind of specific, but still important since character design is an important element of illustration. If you don’t vary things up you’re cruisin’ for a bruisin’ from your professors and peers. And frankly, its boring as hell when someone’s characters all look the same. This is something I see a lot, and I can never get attached to an individual character cause they all looked the same! I found that it happens a lot with male characters, they all have defined abs to some degree and perfectly toned arms and honestly, it gets boring when all of someone’s male characters have the same body type. As for face, there is literally no excuse. There are SO MANY KINDS OF FACES MAN. Round, rectangular, circular, heart-shaped, squared. People can have hooked noses, upturned noses, tiny cute noses. Even eyebrows- arched, flat, thick, waxed, faint, or bold. You’re allowed to have preferences for what kind of bodies you like to draw, but don’t be afraid to branch out!

Develop your own style.

As an artist, you need your own style. Imitating other artist’s styles isn’t going to get you far in school or the real world, and chances are, your peers will call you out if your style looks too much like another established artist’s. In order to make a living and gain clients you need a style that you make unique, taking inspirations and aspects from other styles and squishing them together to make one amazing art style baby. Your art style will probably be the deciding factor in whether or not your client hires you!

Tracing references is OK when appropriate.

As long as it isn’t for a published or commissioned piece, there is absolutely no harm in tracing references. In your down time take some pictures of yourself or find some online and go ahead and trace ‘em. Really pay attention to how the body actually is, how the perspective on legs work, how that hand is foreshortened. Do this enough and you’ll find yourself thinking about all that when you’re drawing normally!

There will always be students better than you, you just gotta accept it.

It’s just a fact of life, unfortunately. When you’re a freshman, you’re in classes with only freshman for your foundation year. You and your peers are all on the relatively same level. What had affected me starting my second year (and I didn’t realize it until much later) was that now that I was in classes with upperclassmen, who had a year or two’s worth of experience on me, I felt as id my art was not up to par. It’s easy to forget your classmates are not just from your grade anymore, especially in electives. All of the electives I took had mostly Juniors and a few Sophomores, and my work always didn’t quite have that polish and finesse to it yet that the upperclassmen’s did have. It’s just a fact of life that you’ll always be up against artists who are more skilled than you , but thats because they have more or different experiences. You have to keep in mind that you can’t compare yourself to them, since it isn’t fair to you that you’re comparing yourself to someone who may have 3+ years on you.

Learn realism to some extent- figures, animals, everything.

You don’t have to like it, but you can always tell when an artist never learned it because their figures are always off. There is a difference between stylizing and not knowing, and it’s almost always evident. You can see it in the way hands are drawn, noses are rendered, and how they shape and place breasts. Do pages of body studies focusing on hands, feet, leg muscles, back arches, faces, all kinds of stuff. You’ll thank yourself later.

Your professors and peers will know when you don’t put in your best effort.

They’ll know when you aren’t pushing yourself because you’ll make fundamental mistakes. Slightly imperfect coloring, wiggly linework that wasn’t done quite carefully enough, not bothering to fix those damn feet in the finish. They always know, somehow...even if you’re careful with your laziness.

Buying expensive materials is usually worth it.

It may cost more but your work will benefit from it, and they last so, so much longer. I had to buy 3 brushes when my techniques class was doing watercolor, and in total they costed over $100. I found as I used them that since they were hair brushes and not synthetic, they held so much more pigment and water, and I could get a much finer tip. I was incredibly lucky that my professor provided the paint, which could go up to $20 a tube for some colors with the brand he had. Paper is also something worth splurging on, because let me tell you I have had disastrous effects when using shitty (coughCANSONcough) watercolor paper. The 9x12 paper block I bought for class was $30, and it was the best paper i’ve ever worked on. Absolutely worth the money and I will be buying that brand for projects from now on. And the best thing about all these is that they’ll last forever!

You NEED to find ways to get excited about a project you hate, because you’re gonna have to do a lot of them.

If you don’t find ways to get excited about projects you’re not too thrilled to do, you’ll never succeed. I learned this in my freshman year very fast, because man oh man were there some projects I couldn’t have cared less about. If you can, gear the project towards one of your interests without compromising the purpose or assigned subject.

I hope this advice can help some folks! Art school is a lot of tough love, and a lot of stepping 300 yards out of your comfort zone (sometimes by force). But they key is to not be afraid of trying new things! You’ll find things you absolutely hate doing, and will never want to do ever again if you can help it, and you’ll find things that you’ll love to do. It’s all about keeping an open mind!

Keep drawing, keep learning, keep creating.

#advice #life lessons #art #art advice #college #art school #not art #artist #learning #tough love #long post #critique

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tdupere772 · 6 years ago

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Podcast Script

[Intro Music]

Taylor: Hi Rachel, another day another MRP assignment

Rachel: Always a great time with you <3!

[Intro Music]

Taylor: Thanks Rachel

[Outro Music]

Rachel: This episode is about the media and how that's been playing a role in the recent events in these countries along with the broader idea of how media influences the way we perceive events.

Taylor: What's the current media landscape in Venezuela? How do most people in your country get their news?

What about Brazil’s media landscape?

Rachel: Do you think that has impacted the way people view news and the Brazilians trust of the media?

Taylor: Absolutely, actually check out this clip that emulates that really well

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZP8uT-bZhPY (3:16-3:38)

[INTERVIEW RESPONSES]

Person 1: I believe what I read on social media depending on the source it’s coming from. So I get most of my news from BuzzFeed news on Instagram or daily mail on Snapchat, rather than watching CNN or FOX news

Person 3: Ok when I'm looking at news or stories that are breaking I tend to not trust the bigger news sources as much, such as Fox News or CNN... um because I feel like they rush to get stories out and maybe don’t get all the info so I tend to, I can’t think of any specifics but I tend to do a little more google searching and looking for like some smaller name journalist and journalism and I tend to trust those a little more, because they seem to have the fuller scoop

Person 2: So, if I have a set belief and I hear something that aligns with those beliefs I’ll be more likely to believe that, because nowadays if I hear something negative about Trump, for example, I automatically just believe it because something negative about Trump to me, just seems very realistic.

Rachel: I really like some of the points that people made here, like social media being more palatable for the masses, which gets me thinking about fake news as a media tool in Latin America.

Rachel: Ohhh so sort of like how in Brazil and Venezuela, Whatsapp, a texting app used in the U.S is viewed as a news source for people in Brazil?

Taylor: Exactly! And in Venezuela, they do the same, including organizing protests around the presidential elections this past year.

Rachel: I feel like over time we have seen so much of it come out as biased, or corrupted I think that we perceive it as a more Government influenced while social media and exchanges on places like WhatsApp which is popular in our, or any other platform we feel like they are maybe not more accurate on a case by case basis but if we see something enough we start wondering, hey is this true?

Taylor: Yeah sometimes I catch myself thinking - if it’s everywhere it must be true and I think other people might do the same? This ties into what we talked about in class where we feel like its not “fake news” or it feels plausible so we feel like it must be true because it makes sense but in reality platforms and the internet are just as controllable by outside sources. I think that what happened with Trump and Russia is a good illustrator of this.

Taylor: I agree, outside forces always have to have incentives, whether it be money or power.

Sources:

Hannan, J. (2018). Trolling ourselves to death? Social media and post-truth politics. European Journal of Communication, 33(2), 214-226. doi:10.1177/0267323118760323

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