#also I struggle with haircuts. something about them makes me too aware of my physical body in a way I don't like

[girlscience]

what if I shaved my head again

[sundaysundaes]

Before Our Story Began

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff | 7.4k | College AU Summary: The popular new kid at your campus has this habit of raising his eyebrows when he flirts and you just realized that maybe you have a kink for it.

It has the same setting as my previous Mark Lee X Reader’s stories (Our First Time and Drunk Antics) but if you’re not into Mark (I’m not judging but what is wrong with you) you can just skip those two because this story can be read separately. 

Before dating the socially-awkward, yet utterly adorable Mark Lee, you have had your fair share of relationships that are now reduced into the form of awkward friendships. Your last boyfriend was Lee Donghyuck—who also publicly known as Haechan—and that fact does not sit well with Mark, because well, they were the best of friends. They still are, but it feels like they’re walking on thin ice whenever you’re in the picture so you try your best to stay away from your ex just to make sure everything is all right with the three of you.

Which is quite weird, knowing how close you were with Haechan before.

It was weird in the beginning, but fate really did play a major role in your relationship. You were in your second year of college and you’d managed to pull yourself together by that time, though you hadn’t really made any real friends yet. You weren’t aware of Mark’s existence either at that point, though he probably had with him being your long-time secret admirer after all. You were too busy trying to adapt to the new college and dormitory life, as well as trying to keep your grades up, that you could barely spend some time socializing with people. Project partners and study buddies were really as far as you could go with the term of friendship during your first year.

Your relationship didn’t exactly start as friends with Lee Donghyuck. Even though he had made tons of friends since his orientation days in college, you were certainly not one of them. You didn’t even know he existed in your world, and neither did he. Younger than both you and Mark, Haechan shone like the sun almost in every aspect of his life and unlike you, people had surely noticed that because he was academically smart, physically good-looking, very social and adventurously funny. It didn’t take long before he became popular at your campus. So popular, in fact, that you heard chatters of his name when you walked down the campus’ hallway with your textbooks in your arms. You had only known his name but not his face, so you didn’t really feel nervous or overly excited like any other girls would’ve probably had when you accidentally sat next to him during public speaking class and saw that he had a silly note stuck on his back, pressed against his black hoodie.

“Hey,” you called, loud enough for him to hear but quiet enough so the people around you wouldn’t notice. “You’ve got something on your back.”

The boy was young, and he had the smoothest golden skin you’d ever seen on a boy. You would probably kill to have his perfect sun-kissed skin. He had slightly chubby cheeks and a mop of dark brown hair with bangs falling over his eyes. He was slouching forward in his seat with his arms draped over his table, staring lifelessly at the board. His lower lip was jutting out in boredom and slight annoyance, reminding you of a five-year-old boy missing his favorite cartoon. He threw a glance to the side, looking at you with big, chocolate brown eyes, and his eyebrows raised in question.

“What?” He asked and you pointed to the back of his hoodie with your pen.

“I won’t judge if it’s the kind of thing you’re into,” you said, “but I don’t think placing a note behind your back with the words Spank Me, Mama, written on it is the best way to actually, you know, get it.”

He blushed and he blushed so hard that it made you think huh, he’s kinda cute, but you buried the thought right away. You had promised yourself to focus better that year. Falling head over heels for a fellow student on the first day of your new term was not the right way to do it.

“Right, thanks.” He struggled with the note, reaching behind his back as if his skin was on fire. You were about to help when he finally snatched the paper and read the words under his breath, eyes widening in shock.

“I assume that’s not your handwriting?” You were amused but tried your best not to tease him so much.

He did this pout that actually kind of fit his face, probably because he still had that baby face going on. Most of the guys you knew would look immensely disgusting if they pulled that kind of pout. Take your brother, Johnny, for example. Even the thought of him doing that already made you feel like punching your fist against a wall.

“I would weep myself to sleep if my handwriting was this bad,” he grumbled and you smiled secretly to yourself. He turned to you, an awkward grin painting his face. “Sorry, my friends are assholes. Do you happen to know a swamp nearby where I can dump dead bodies without being found out?”

You nod. “I know a place but it’s no longer free, though. They charge you, like, ten thousand won per body. Which is why I’m broke.”

His timid grin grew into a bright smile, probably feeling quite elated that somebody shared the same type of dumb humor as him. “I’m Lee Donghyuck.” He sneaked a hand under a table and you took it for a handshake, answering him with your name. “Thanks for saving my life.”

“Most welcome. You can save me back later when I have the words spank me, daddy, glued to my back.”

“So your friends are assholes too?”

“It’s what people have in common these days, I suppose.”

But when your professor spoke louder to make sure he didn’t any other noise in the room except his own, you had to cut your conversation short and only threw small grins at him every now and then.

When the class ended, you both parted ways with nothing more than a small wave of a hand and a casual, “Well, I guess, I’ll see you later.” You thought it would be too weird to get even friendlier than that, and he probably did too. You admitted that he was cute, but not cute enough for you to ditch your next class and make out with him in the nearest parking lot. You thought you were going to see him again soon anyway, probably the next week when the same class started.

And you were right, but you wished you weren’t because Donghyuck came back to your class the following week looking like a full-course meal.

Donghyuck probably had his hair cut short somewhere on the weekend and it looked absolutely fucking perfect on his head. His bangs were no longer hiding his eyes, and it was clear to you then that Donghyuck with his forehead seen, combined with those thick beautiful eyebrows and mesmerizing round eyes, were really something to behold.

He didn’t notice you were already in the class when he walked in, with his bag slinging on one shoulder. Some rowdy boys were shouting at the back of the room, “Haechan-ah, over here! Saved you a seat!” And Donghyuck grinned at them, waving his hand before he walked toward their seats and you thought Lee Donghyuck is Haechan?! That Haechan?! And mentally slapped yourself on the face when the flashback hit you. You had the chance to talk to one of the most popular boys in school and you talked about swamp and dead bodies.

Absolutely fucking perfect.

After you managed to collect yourself, you couldn’t hold back this urge to sneak a few glances to the back of the class, trying to catch a glimpse of that beautiful forehead of his—which you realized by then that you had some kind of a kink for it—without having him notice you.

But he did. He did notice every time you tried to secretly stare and he reciprocated each time with a smile, raising one of his eyebrows almost dangerously seductive at you and you thought goddamn if that wasn’t the sexiest thing I’ve seen in my twenty years of living I don’t know what is.

You offered your best effort to stay fucking calm despite everything that had been going on in your head, waving one hand at him with a small—hopefully not creepy—smile on your face. You immediately turned around right after, swallowing your breath, and tried not to vomit because your stomach felt like it was about to lurch out of your mouth. It wasn’t really an unpleasant feeling; it was just kind of new to you and you loathed the way your heart was slamming against your ribcages.

Okay, you mentally calmed yourself, get a hold of yourself. No need to panic. He’s just another cute boy, with a cute haircut, and a cute smirk, and a cute forehead and—

You really didn’t like where it was going.

When the class ended—and you didn’t learn a thing about it—you shoved your iPad back into your bag and let out the loudest sigh you had ever made in your sorry life.

“Bad day?”

Haechan’s voice was next to your ear and though you only jerked slightly on the outside, most of your soul had actually gone to heaven—or hell, from all those dirty thoughts you had about him during the last two hours of that lecture.

“Yeah,” you cooly replied. Thank God, your voice didn’t betray you. “My swamp is full again. I have to start looking for a new place.”

AM I SERIOUSLY TALKING ABOUT ANOTHER FUCKING SWAMP—

But Haechan was laughing about it, not too much but the amusement on his face was genuine. “It’s cute that you remember our previous conversation.”

“It’s cute that you do too.”

“Well, actually, that’s what I’ve been thinking about for the last week,” he told you with a smirk on his face. You dared to bet on your life that he was flirting with you and you were about to scream out of joy but you reminded yourself to play it cool.

“I don’t think it’s a conversation worth remembering,” you commented nonchalantly.

“Not if I had it with anyone else.”

You almost fell from your seat. “On second thought, it was a pretty interesting conversation, what with the—”

“Noona.” He suddenly leaned close, laying one hand on your desk to prop his weight. There was that smirk again—the one with his eyebrow raised. “I’m trying to flirt with you and ask you out on a date, if you haven’t noticed.”

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears at that point. You had thought about it—about him asking you out—but your imagination did not do justice on how smooth and confident or how goddamn attractive he looked in real life. “Oh.”

“Oh.” He imitated, smirking a bit wider and you were dazed with how bright he shone. “So, can I take you out for lunch? Not anywhere close to swamps full of dead bodies, I swear.” Then after a small pause, he added, “Unless, that’s what you’re into.”

“Shut up,” you retorted, standing up and gathering all your belongings into your arms. “You’re paying.”

He laughed softly to himself, trailing after you with a cheeky grin on his face. “This swamp thing could be our thing, though.”

“Shut up.”

***

Haechan was not one to take it slow, you remember, which is way different from how Mark does things with you.

It wasn’t like Haechan was overly aggressive—as far as boys go, he was pretty normal about the whole dating and sex thing—but he really just head straight to the point whenever he had something in mind, whether it was by a sudden change of topic in your conversation, or acting it out directly with his body.

While Mark tends to plan things, Haechan just did everything out on a whim. You could be talking about science fiction movies at a cafe at one point, and ended up with having your clothes soaked with water by the next few hours because he suddenly felt like the day was too hot and jumping into the campus pool fully clothed was a good idea. You weren’t sure why you’d said yes to all of that when you just barely knew him but Haechan could be very persuasive. So dangerously so, that you would probably say yes to anything.

It was on your third date when he suddenly bent his head down and cut you in the middle of your sentence with a kiss. It was only a small peck, a quick pressing of his plump lips against yours, but it still managed to literally stop you from breathing for a good couple of seconds.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling away with his eyes still staring at your lips. “I was… distracted.”

You knew it was lust in his eyes and you were familiar with yourself enough to know that you usually preferred to have your first kiss after you knew the guy for a certain amount of time. But Haechan—the way he sometimes stared at your lips for a millisecond while you were talking, or hugged you for a few seconds too long before you parted ways—really made you feel special. Made you feel… wanted. And it had been a long time since someone made you feel that way.

So it really didn’t come too much of a surprise that when he dipped his head down to kiss you again, you responded with as much passion as he emitted. You didn’t care that both of you were still standing in the middle of your co-ed dorm’s hallway, though it was empty from how late it was. You had your fingers tangled in his hair as you tiptoed and leaned your entire weight to his body, making him inhale sharply and curl his fingers around the fabric of your dress.

“Again,” he breathed when you pulled away for a split second and immediately brought you back to him again. Haechan had one arm around your waist and another one holding your face, angling your head to the side so he could kiss you deeper.

Haechan was a good kisser—so frighteningly so that it made you feel conscious of how inexperienced you were compared to him. And with the way his hands were moving around your body, you could tell that things were going a bit too fast.

“Haechan—”

The hand that you laid on his chest to give you both some space, was brought over your head as he pressed your body against the door of your room. He kissed you harder, almost knocking your head against the wooden surface, and you could taste the flavor of the lollipop he had on his way back to your dorm. His scent was intoxicating in the best way possible, numbing your mind from thinking how this could probably end up in a bad decision.

“Haechan-ah, wait,” you gasped against his mouth, and when he did, pulling away from you for a few inches to catch his own breath, you noticed that even if you managed to stop him, you probably wouldn’t sound very convincing.

It was really fortunate that although Haechan was a man of passion, he still had the patience to make your consent his priority. “Too fast?” He asked, warm breath fanning against your lips and you really wanted to just close those few inches between you and be smothered with his kisses again.

So you did, and you could feel him smirking into the kiss. The way he slipped his tongue between your mouth made your knees buckle underneath your weight so you clutched onto him as if you were hanging to dear life. Haechan formed this low grunt at the back of his throat that made your skin tingle in delight, knowing that you had that kind of effect on him.

But really, something still didn’t feel right.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked, noticing how you fidgeted uncomfortably under his touch. He looked like stopping at this point would be the last thing he wanted to do but he still gave you the space you needed.

You nodded your head slowly at his question. Haechan looked like he had to put his best effort to gain control of his body and move away from you, and you could totally relate at that point, actually. You weren’t really sure why did you even stop him before. It just felt like the right thing to do but at the same time, it was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Haechannie—"

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step away from you and releasing you from his hold. You were surprised by the fact that you almost fell down to the floor when he wasn’t holding you.

“No, don’t be—it was, umm,” You cleared your throat. The collar of your knitted sweater suddenly felt too tight. “It was good.”

“Good?” Haechan asked, smirking as he raised an eyebrow and you thought fuck there’s that look again and you cursed inwardly a few more times for feeling so whipped for his little, seductive eyebrow raise. “I thought that was more than good, Noona.”

“Probably for you,” you wanted to tease but you could hear your voice crack at the end.

“Oh, really?”

And he kissed you again because he never wanted to lose his game. He knew he already had you wrapped under his fingers; he just wanted to make you succumb to him. To have you say how amazing his touches really felt on your skin because he was just that kind of a guy.

And he was winning. Your reaction was exactly the way he wanted you to be, arching your back under his touch, pressing your chest against his, tongue darting out to taste the inside of his mouth better and longer.

“No, wait, timeout.” You pushed him away again and you noticed that his hair was a mess from the work of your fingers and weirdly enough, it only made him ten thousand times hotter.

“Noona, you’re torturing me.” He whined against your shoulder, playfully biting the skin over your clothes. “Do you want me to stop or not?”

Haechan had the habit of whining when things didn’t go his way. It was immature and it would probably look childishly annoying on someone else, but it only made him  that much more adorable. Still annoying most of the time, but always adorable.

“I’m sorry.” You were torn between feeling bad or laughing about it because my God, look at that pout. “Maybe a five-minute break? I could make you some coffee. My roommate is away for the weekend.”

He sighed, the pout on his lips grew even more apparent. “You’re inviting me to your room? At this hour? After this?”

“I’m not going to have sex with you tonight, Lee Donghyuck, just to be clear.”

“Which is the more reason why you shouldn’t be inviting me over then!”

You laughed because his voice was becoming quite high-pitched. “Are you so incapable of using your brain instead of your dick?”

“Noonaaaaa~” He threw his head back in exasperation, which gave you the chance to ogle at the column of his throat. “Seriously, is torturing guys at the end of a date your sick hobby or something?”

“Look, if you stay over, we can still make-out.” You throw a smirk at him, unlocked your door and pushed it wide open. “And I make the most amazing coffee, trust me.”

“Fine,” he exhaled, walking into your room with a suppressed smile on his face. “And I’m only here for coffee, nothing more. Making-out with you is just a bonus.” And you found yourself giggling like a child as he cradled you into his arms and pushed you down to your bed because you both knew, it was the other way around.

***

About a month later, a similar situation happened again and there was no getting out of it.

It started with Haechan coming over to your room on a Sunday afternoon. Your roommate was staying over at her boyfriend’s place again for the weekend, so you had the room to yourself for the entire day. Haechan came unplanned and he’d brought his MacBook with him because, “I know myself well enough that I’d end up playing Overwatch instead of working on my assignment, so could you please be a responsible adult and force me to do my work even if I start crying at your feet?”

Haechan was always the dramatic one in your relationship but you nodded your head and let him in. You brought over some snacks and made him coffee like usual—which he always replied with, “Noona, I don’t want to sound like an ungrateful boyfriend but this coffee tastes like shi—” but was always finished with a pillow smacked to his face, a form of your courtesy.

You were working on your own papers too, sitting on the carpeted floor with your back pressed against the foot of your bed and a MacBook resting on your lap. Your textbooks were sprawled all over the place, and Haechan was lying down on your bed, head falling over the edge. He was looking at his phone, his thumb running up and down the screen.

“Noona?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m bored.”

“Aren’t you supposed to work on your assignment?”

“Finished it already.”

You threw a look over your shoulder, glancing to see him lounging on your bed as if it was his own. Haechan already had his MacBook closed, and was looking at you upside down with a completely bored look on his face. You knew he was smart, but you didn’t know he was that smart when he really put his mind to it.

“Well, that was fast,” you commented.

“No, you’re just doing it painfully slow.”

“Well, sorry for not being as smart as you,” you mumbled, even though you weren’t really annoyed about it. Haechan  huffed and walked closer, sitting closely right behind you, and trapping you between his legs.

“You’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met, though,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist. “What are you working on exactly?”

“I don’t even know, honestly,” you sighed, leaning against his chest, dropping your head on his shoulder. “You wanna order some take-out?”

“Can I eat you for dinner instead?”

“Was that a sex joke, Lee Donghyuck?”

“Could be, if you’re interested.” You could see him wiggling his eyebrows from his reflection on your standing mirror. Both of you looked adorable, if you could say so yourself, wearing a matching white shirt (though not on purpose) and enjoying each other’s warmth with Haechan’s arms wrapped protectively around your figure. You sighed as you admired the sight of Haechan’s features in the mirror.

“Have I told you how sexy you look with your hair pushed back like this?” You asked, reaching out to touch some of his strands and he followed your gaze, looking at his own reflection in the mirror.

“Huh.” He seemed surprised. “It’s the first time you said that actually. What else do you think is sexy about me?”

“Promise you won’t get cocky about it if I tell you?”

“Can’t. You know how I am.”

You sighed but you succumbed to his wish. He praised you from time to time, it was only fair for you to do the same. “The way you dance.”

“You saw me dance?”

“Hm-hmm.”

“When?”

“That time when we went to Jaemin’s party. You were dancing to Billy Jean.”

“You saw that?!” He was flustered, scarlet painting his cheeks and ears. “That was—I thought you were in the bathroom!”

“Well, I was going to but then I saw you and kinda had to stop and stare for a little. You dance more with your hips than with your hands, do you know that? It was kinda hot.”

And just like that, the flabbergasted look on his face was immediately replaced with that Godforsaken cocky smirk again. “Were you turned on back then because of me?”

“A little. Or maybe I just really had to pee.”

“You should’ve said something, you know.”

“And then what? Have sex with you in Jaemin’s room? No freaking way.”

“We could’ve used my car. My hips could do so much more than just dancing, you know.”

“You’re disgusting.” You elbowed him slightly on the stomach to stop him from giggling, before you focused back on your MacBook. “Now, shoo, my boy. Mommy’s gotta work.”

Haechan had his chin on one of your shoulders. “But Noona~”

“I’m studying.”

“I’m bored~” He whined like the baby that he was, nuzzling his nose against the crook of your neck and you flinched slightly when his breath tickled your skin. “Can we make-out? Please pretty pleaseeeee~”

“Give me half an hour to finish this real quick—”

“Noonaaaaaaa~”

“What?” You were trapped between laughing and acting annoyed about it. “I seriously need to study. Didn’t you tell me to be a responsible adult for today?”

“You could also be a responsible adult by making-out with me though.” He chuckled to himself. “We could do adult things if you—”

“No,” you firmly stated though your smile kept on appearing on your face. You pushed a palm against his cheek, playfully shoving him away. “Now, go away, Dongsookie, I really have to study.”

“Fine,” he exhaled loudly against your shoulder and you could practically feel his pout growing on his face. He didn’t let you go, though. He kind of just sat there behind you, still circling his arms around your waist as he lazily stared at the words you were typing on the keyboard. You had trouble concentrating with the way you could feel every time he took in a breath from how close his chest was pressed against your spine but eventually you got the hang of it.

You were already working on your third page when Haechan suddenly had his lips on the side of your neck, lazily suckling on the skin until you could no longer ignore him.

“Haechannie.”

“Hmm?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m playing a game,” he murmured against your skin, licking at the soft skin before he nibbled at it with his teeth. “It’s called how fast can I distract my girlfriend from working over a stupid assignment instead of spending time with me.”

“But I am spending time with you, though.”

“You know what I mean.”

And you had to bite your lip because he had a certain kind of pressure on his words that made your skin tingle in anticipation. His lips were soft but scorching hot as he drew bruises on your skin and it felt so good and dangerous at the same time. It was like standing on a bridge made of glass, both exciting and terrifying.

“You know what I think is sexy about you?” He quietly asked, one hand running down your body, slipping under your shirt and hovering dangerously close to your bra. “The way you say my name when we kiss,” he continued, adding a soft moan when he latched his lips around your earlobe.

You shivered, feeling heat growing on your cheeks. “Haechannie—”

“Yes, like that,” he chuckled, his voice suddenly became deeper. “You’re so sexy, you’re driving me insane.”

You tried your best to ignore him, you really did. But the second he had his warm mouth against your lips, his fingers grabbing your face almost forcefully to turn towards him, you just lost it and you found yourself crawling into his lap, tangling your legs around his waist and moaning against his mouth as he was against yours.

“Noona,” he sighed when you kissed down his neck, as if your every touch was a gift that he craved more and more. He shuddered slightly when you had your hand under his shirt and as if you just pushed the wrong button, he suddenly picked you up by the waist, shoved your textbooks away with one swipe of the back of his hand, and laid you down on the carpeted floor in one swift motion.

“If you keep doing that,” he breathed out heavily, eyes glazed as he stared at your kiss swollen lips. “I won’t be able to stop, even if you beg me to.”

You weren’t sure what came over you but you found yourself hooking your fingers around his necklace and brought his face down, whispering, “Then don’t stop,” directly against his lips.

It was all rush and passion and Haechan was not wasting even a second away before he began to undress you, removing each clothing very easily and you secretly wondered just how many times had he done this before from how smooth he unclasped your bra with one flick of his finger.

He pulled his shirt over his head, his silver necklace hanging loosely around his neck. “Tell me if I’m being too fast,” he said, before he climbed on top of you, throwing the piece of clothing away without a care. Your heart jumped at the sight of him, knowing how this could lead to something more but couldn’t really stop him. Not with the way he had his hands reaching down from the valley of your breasts, down to your stomach, his fingers brushing above the hem of your jeans.

His kiss was always breathtaking, to say the least, but it was a bit different this time because it felt like he was losing control of himself. His kiss was almost forceful, his teeth roughly nibbling at your lower lip before he moved down your chin and found his place in the crook of your neck again. His hand was on your chest, cupping you fully with his palm and let out this sexy groan when he felt you gasping his name against his mouth.

“Fuck, you’re just doing that on purpose now, aren’t you?” He hissed, eyes clouded with lust. He peppered kisses down your chest, lips hovering above your nipple when he said, “You’re being cruel, Noona.” You were tugging at his dark locks when he placed it between his lips, sucking at the sensitive spot, and you tried to hold back your moan but failing every time.

Haechan was giggling to himself, his tongue flicking around the bud. “The way you’re reacting to me is so cute. I didn’t know you were this sensitive.” He ran his tongue across his lower lip, staring at you like he wanted to ravish every part of you, which he probably did. “You’re so goddamn cute.”

“Haechannie.”

“Yeah?”

“I won’t be needing that kind of commentary ever again in the future, thanks,” you uttered, trying your best to focus on his touch and not his words because Haechan could be annoyingly talkative sometimes.

He chuckled again, moving along to land a few kisses on your stomach. “If you’re that sensitive here, how sensitive will you be if I touch you right over…” He trailed a finger down from your belly button to the edge of your underwear. His eyes twinkled gleefully before he rubbed your clit over your underwear. “…here?”

You gave your best strength to stay sane but Haechan’s giggle over your reaction only tortured you even further. “Stop playing around,” you hissed under your breath, pretty sure that you were blushing from ear to ear.

“Playing?” Haechan grinned tauntingly, “I’m being pretty serious, though.” He spread your legs, kissing the inner part of your trembling thigh before he hovered dangerously close to the point you could feel his breath down there. You couldn’t help but gulp in anticipation and Haechan knew that. He knew how much you wanted him to take off your underwear and eat you out like it’s his last meal.

But of course, being the little fucking devil that he was, Haechan only threw you his usual smirk and said, “You know I’d do anything for you, right, Noona? You just gotta beg for it.”

“No way.”

“Otherwise, I wouldn’t know.” He faked a pout. “I’m younger than you, you know. I need you to teach me these things.”

You reciprocated by kicking him right on his abs because as desperate as you were, there was no way in hell you were going to grovel at his feet, begging for him to please you. “All right, all right, I’m sorry, geez!” Haechan said, laughing as he successfully dodged two of your first kicks. Soon after, he grabbed your moving legs, carefully placed them on his sides and ran his hands slowly from your legs to your thighs. He took a long glance at your body, sighing like it was some kind of beautiful torture for him to take. “You don’t even realize how hot you are, do you?” He leaned closer and grabbed you by your chin, locking both of your gazes together. “Do you even know how hard I am right now because of you?”

It was a rhetorical question, clearly, because you could definitely tell how hard and hot he was pressing against you, even if his jeans and your underwear were still on the way.

“God, just—” you gasped when he slipped a knee between your legs, pressing it against your core. “Just stop being a fucking tease and fuck me already, Donghyuck.”

And he grinned against your skin. “Fucking finally.” You heard him say under his breath, before he carried you in his arms and moved you to the bed. It felt somewhat scary, how fast he was being, because you had only experienced sex once and it was the painfully awkward kind of sex with your high school boyfriend and you didn’t really have the chance to practice it with anyone else while it seemed to you, at this point, was clearly not the case for him.

Haechan had his eyes on you, all half-lidded with lust and passion, as he unbuckled the belt of his jeans and you had to gulp at the sight. He didn’t really have six-pack abs like Jaehyun—considering your boyfriend was quite an athlete during his senior days—but his shoulders were broad, his chest was toned, his stomach was lean and his skin, as it glistened slightly with sweat, was just absolutely breathtaking.

“Enjoying the view?” He asked, and you knew how he’d always been cocky in his entire life, but he’d never been this cocky. “You’re practically drooling.”

“I am not,” you retorted but you lacked confidence. Haechan grabbed a condom from the pocket of his jeans before he climbed back into the bed with his jeans unbuttoned.

“Why do you already have a condom with you?”

“Because I came prepared.”

“I thought you said you wanted to study.”

“Among other things,” he grinned against your lips and shushed down your next protest. “I will be studying your body, if you give me the chance.”

“That was so lame.” But even your insult couldn’t mask how nervous you sounded, especially when Haechan was settling himself between your legs again, fingers hooking around your underwear.

“Final chance if you want me to stop, Noona,” he said though it felt like it was almost impossible for him to stop. “I’m serious. After this, I won’t stop even if you cry.”

You swallowed your breath, heart thrumming loud against your chest. “Just do whatever you want,” you answered, almost too quiet for even your ears to hear but Haechan’s eyes gleamed in anticipation.

“That’s my girl,” he said, grabbing your thighs and spreading your legs apart before he leaned in to taste your mouth again. “I’ll be gentle, don’t worry.”

You realized you were holding your breath when Haechan wrapped the condom around his length and he had his eyes on you before he pushed in, asking with an unexpected low voice of his, “Ready?”

But he did not wait for an answer and you found yourself hissing when he pushed in, slowly at first and suddenly all at once. You twisted your fingers against the bed sheet, biting your lower lip because it hurt trying to adjust to his size and Haechan was a little bit lost in his own thoughts, muttering, “Fuck, you’re so tight,” under his breath, slightly throwing his head back out of pleasure. “Noona, you’re so fucking tight. Do you know that?”

He leaned closer to you, chest pressing against your breasts as he mouthed against the skin of your shoulder and slowly began to move his hips. “You all right?” He asked, making eye contact after a while and you shakily nodded your head, though the pain was still there. “Then I’ll move faster.”

You almost hit your head against your headboard when he suddenly picked up the pace, thrusting into you hard and deep; it knocked the breath out of your lungs. “Haecha—” you could barely speak at that point, arms clutching tight to his back, nails raking against his spine.

“Fuck,” he uttered between heavy breaths as he sat on his knees, holding both of your legs in the air, almost splitting your body in half and pushed deeper. “How the fuck do you feel this good, I—” he ended his sentence short, kissing your ankle instead, his eyes never leaving yours. “I wanna keep you—you’re so pretty like this, Noona—so fucking pretty—”

Haechan was always good with his words but at that time, he was making incoherent noises at the back of his throat, jumping from one sentence to another as if he was thinking about several things at once and he was running out of time.

“Haechan, wait—s-slow down—” You placed a hand on his shoulder, tears forming in your eyes. “You’re moving too fast—It hurts—”

Haechan was unfocused, but the last two words that slipped from your mouth brought him back to reality. He stopped almost immediately, looking at you with eyes searching your face. “Does it hurt?” He asked and you nodded, your body shaking a little bit. His gaze softened, cupping your cheek in his hand before he slowly pulled out of you. “I’m sorry, come here.” He cradled you into his arms, sitting down on the bed and helped you climb into his lap. “Maybe if we do it this way,” he said, wiping a tear from your eye with his thumb, “You’ll feel better?”

You could feel him twitching below you, the tip of his cock pressing against your folds. Haechan stayed true to his promise, he wasn’t going to stop even if you cried and that’s fine because you didn’t want him to.

“Take your time,” Haechan said, smiling gently in a way that was so not him that it made you feel weird. You could tell that he was trying to keep himself calm and composed even when all he wanted to do was to fuck you senselessly.

He pushed inside again, but let you take control of the pace this time. You slid down slowly, wincing slightly at the friction but it no longer hurt as much. Haechan was staring at you the entire time, unconsciously licking his lower lip when you slowly began to bounce on his lap.

“Kiss me,” he demanded and you did, sharing his breath and his moans, and tangling your hands in his hair. When he felt your body relaxing against him, he grabbed you by the waist and suddenly thrust forward, making you gasp and clenched your legs together.

“Fuck,” he moaned under his breath, hissing at how perfect you felt around him. “Noona, you can be mad at me as much as you want after this but for now let me just—” he groaned, furrowing his eyebrows at the feeling of him sliding in and out of you. “Just let me fuck you the way I want.”

And you found yourself thrown back to the bed with him thrusting into you deep and raw, faster and much more forceful than before. His nails were sinking into your skin from how hard he was holding you by your hips, keeping you still as he rocked his hips forward as hard and as fast as he liked. Expletives were falling from his lips between his low grunts and breathy moans and you couldn’t help but sob a little at how strong he was going. It felt painfully amazing, and you knew your body wasn’t making any sense, and it surprised you when your orgasm hit you like a wave, just a few seconds before he reached his. You honestly never thought that something so painful could also bring this much pleasure and you wanted to be mad at him but you couldn’t even find the energy to keep yourself up.

You fell down to the bed with Haechan toppling on top of you almost immediately, chest heaving fast as he tried to bring back some air into his lungs.

“Holy fucking hell,” he said, breathing heavily at the juncture of your neck. “That was so good. This is probably the first time I—”

“Haechannie.”

“Oh right, shit!” He immediately jumped away, giving you some space and gently placed his palm on the side of your face, checking your condition. “Are you okay? Are you hurt somewhere? Noona, I’m so sor—Yah!“

You pinched him by the nose, glowering at him with the little strength you have left and you didn’t let go even if he was tapping frantically against the back of your hand, asking for time-outs before you broke his bones.

Well, he said you could be mad at him all you want. It was time for him to face your wrath and it was not going to be pretty.

***

It wasn’t long until your name became a famous topic to discuss around the hallway too and it felt weird yet exciting at the same time, because it was true. You were dating Lee Haechan. And no matter how many times you had to convince yourself that it wasn’t solely your imagination, it still felt unreal.

Because Haechan was shining like the sun, and you couldn’t really shine as bright.

It suddenly felt like high school all over again when you’d once dated the Prom King, Jung Jaehyun, where people always talked behind your back, making comments about your face, or your body, or your attitude and how every aspect of your life did not fit the legendary high school prince that was Jung Jaehyun. It had gotten so much into your head that you had to break up with him, and hating yourself for over a year on how weak you’d become.

Dating Haechan was similar but different in the way he treated you. Jaehyun was too kind, not really saying anything back to anyone who said awful things about you and instead, just told you to not pay any mind about it. Haechan was much braver in saying the things that came to mind, so whenever he heard people talking trash about you, he would come up to them with words laced with venom. It was kind of childish, the way he got worked up rather easily, and even more childish when he continued to pout and fume about it even after a whole day had passed.

“Seriously, I said I’m fine,” you once said to him, entering his Hyundai after he opened the door for you.

“Well, I’m pissed off,” he said, unconsciously closing the door a bit too hard, making you flinch slightly. He walked to the other side of the car, sinking to his seat behind the wheel and exhaled loudly.

“Haechannie.”

“What?” His tone was still a bit harsh, but you knew he didn’t mean to shout at you.

“Thank you for defending me,” you softly said, reaching out for his hand. “But at this point, you’re gonna be mad with literally everyone and anger does not look pretty on you.”

“But aren’t you pissed, though? They literally have no business whatsoever to—”

“I know.” You squeezed his hand. “Look if it gets worse, we can always plan out something. There’s this perfect swamp I know outside of town.”

And Haechan couldn’t help but smile. Maybe he was right, that swamp thing could really be your thing. “You and your stupid swamp,” he muttered, shaking his head in amusement as he grabbed your face for a kiss. “Can we have sex at your place today?”

You sighed. It was always like this when it came to him.  “Sure, why not.”

Because certainly, you weren’t complaining.

***

[the-fox-populi-says]

I don't often write long personal stuff on this blog. But the past month I've been confronted with a very odd privilege I wasn't really aware of. Apparantly, I am a natural hermit. I was alone a LOT as a child. I always found ways to entertain myself. People have told me before they found it sort of odd and/or remarkable that I manage to get out of bed and do stuff every day, on my own, from home, despite not making much money of the stuff I do. I always sort of shrugged it off. I like making things. Occassionally I sell things. Not a very steady income, though. My partner's income makes sure I don't starve. Which I sometimes feel guilty about, but that's not the point here. I was aware of my privilege in that department already. No, this new one... is about self-motivation. About boredom. Whatever I may have expected this pandemic to reveal... this wasn't it. I fundamentally do not understand boredom.

I will try to phrase this in a way that doesn't upset people (I know this is tumblr, so it's probably futile, but still). This is not an accusation to anybody. This is a personal observation, a reality I've been living in, but never really noticed. Not to this extent, at least. People... need structure. I know that. I do too. People are social. I know that. I am too. But still I was not prepared to see this many people react this badly to isolation. If you're stuck with people you don't like, of course. If you have a teensy little living space with no balcony or garden, of course. If you're worried about your health or those of close friends/relatives, of course. If you are touch-starved, of course. If your job/business is at risk, of course. If you are already struggling with depression, an eating disorder, a disability or are otherwise dependant on people taking care of you, of course. If you're very extraverted and can't stand being alone, of course. If you're a huge workaholic/completely exploited so you have no idea what to even do with free time, of course. If you suddenly get like 5 times the responsibility/ work load/ risk exposure because of your job, of course. If you have no money to get materials to fill your time with, of course. If you have little means of connecting with others such as a working internet device, of course. But then I see people, close friends even, with no friends or family at risk, no personal (mental) health issues, a secure job, living with a loving partner, in a spacious home, who have hobbies, and a safe place to go outside, an online continuation of their job so structure is still pretty much there, often even have a work room/study so they can still sort of separate work & private, some of them are even used to working from home already... And they are still climbing the walls. These same people who always want to have holidays. Who always have lists of stuff they want to do and complain about a lack of time. Which they now have. They say they can't get motivated. They say they are bored. And, like... I get it. To a certain degree. This is a worldwide traumatic event. It's tiring, even if you aren't at the front lines. I'm also bummed that I can't derp through the city centre for fun like I'm used to. I hate being forced to use a desinfected shopping cart. I miss my gym, my favourite bar, and seeing my friends. I've had some bad days. But that's it- I'm just bummed. And they're just days, sometimes just hours, not weeks. It's an "ugh" not an "aaargh". And it doesn't get worse- It gets easier. As long as none of the other factors change, like someone I care about getting very sick (some were, or even still are, but none of them seem in immediate danger), or money suddenly falling away completely... I can easily last another 2 months before going mad. In fact, I've just comfortably settled in for the long haul. I got my hugs, my yard, my job, I can still get groceries- I'm good. A bit annoyed, but good. Not much actually changed... Except everyone around me seems to suffer from some real cabin fever, including my partner. Even my dad, Einzelgänger McNeed-no-one, seems grumpy.

And I'm just... baffled. Is it really that hard to stay motivated all by yourself, even if your basic needs are all met? Am I some kind of alien?? Do y'all not have projects? Hobbies? Books and games and movies you want to catch up on? Do you not feel like you're always months behind on everything? Do you normally not want to cram as much hours as possible in a day? Is it really that difficult to just do things? Even instant reward things? I'm no stranger to procrastination, or executive dysfunction, not at all, but... genuine boredom? I don't even understand how that WORKS. I can recall the last 3 times I've been legit bored in the last five years. They were all situations where I had to wait for something, yet keep alert the entire time. In any other situation, I can just set an alarm and retreat in my head. Or do a thing. Again- if your basic needs AREN't met (I'm not talking about a haircut, I mean like physical starvation) or if you're in some other stressful situation, including mental or physical illness/disability- yes. Absolutely. You're burnt-out, completely understandable. But if you HAVE a structure (a bit altered maybe, but still), HAVE somebody nice with you, HAVE non-risky job security, CAN communicate with loved ones- HOW. What is it that normally keeps you motivated, then? Do you need that specific an environment & rhythm to thrive, even if you often complain about it?? Explain it to me, please! I know we're dealing with global environmental catastrophe and this pandemic will likely cause a global recession on top of it, but- to me, at a certain point the amount of shit just becomes insurmountable and it doesn't matter much anymore if anything gets added. Who knows how I'll afford retirement. At this rate might very well not be able to afford clean water before that. We'll cross that bridge when (if) we get to it. Do whatever you can while you can, and that's enough. And making stuff is a great way to combat existential dread. I know that at the start of this, most people with anxiety functioned way better than the so-called normal people. Because a) they were used to navigating panic-mode, b) the social distancing took a load off and c) their brains went HAH SEE WE WERE RIGHT THERE WAS A THREAT! which I imagine must be sort of satisfying and relaxing. I figured this was the evolutionary benefit of anxiety. So now that cabin fever is rising, why do I not see more natural hermits being weirded out by everyone around them? Should there not be a decent group of humanity that keeps a level head during isolation? Has it become some social faux-pas to say you're personally not all that bad right now? Are you supposed to complain, even if you're fine?? Am I going to make myself some kind of outcast by posting this???

[incubae-fics]

First Impressions [Aomaris] [AU!]

Pairing: AU!Sam [Aomaris] x Female!Reader [3rd Person] [Reader is given a job n stuff for better descriptions]

Warnings: idk angst??

A/N: idk wtf this is but YEET. have some AU angst. I was gonna go with angst into fluff but here we are at 1 am thanks im sorry im lame, find the au on my blog bc tumblr killed links

Sam couldn’t believe she was someone he’d sworn to protect- someone he had to protect, because he was asked by a man who’d granted him about everything he’d wished for.

He wasn’t entirely sure why she was worth protecting. She was normal- completely human. She knew no magic, did nothing special, worked some regular job. She wasn’t.. important. Yet, to that man, she was. So he had no choice- hell, at first, he didn’t even know who she was. He just knew she was moving into the place he had to crash in. That she came with a best friend, and was buzzing with energy right at the moment he needed it. So he took it- and then she proceeded to clock him right in the jaw once her senses came to her.

It was a miracle that she wasn’t thrown into the nearest wall.

In his world, she’d be dead- but also, in his world, he wouldn’t need to take that type of energy from her. He’d have had her angry already, and would take that.

He wasn’t in his world though, and no matter how powerful he could be there, he was glad he wasn’t there. That he was free, and his brothers were too, even if it meant dealing with her.

Her snark was the worst- she pushed simply because she could, at least he thought so. In reality, it was because she had to have him know that she was no pushover. She wasn’t playing his games, and she refused to be verbally and mentally attacked in her own home. She didn’t want him to think he could get away with harassing and belittling her.

Names flew here and there, daggers and venom attached to each set. Hers pierced and seeped into crevices he wasn’t aware he had. However, his made gashes that would leave more permanent scars- scars that would come back to bite him later down the line.

His first impression of her was far from good- and if anyone had told him where he’d end up in regards to her, he’d have laughed in their faces.

Demons don’t love- they don’t know the feeling or the meaning. It’s not in their nature. It’s especially not for him. Not after what he’s been through- not after what he’s been forced to do and live through.

She was harsh and mean and angry. She was just bitter, not bittersweet- yet she broke into him. Somehow, their relationship morphed from violent words and screaming matches to.. comfortable banter. To hanging out and playing video games- to him catching glimpses of the soft side she hid. Damien had told him about it, and he refused to believe it, but then he saw it himself. Some of her walls came down, and he saw the incredibly soft person she was deep down.

It captivated him- made him curious.. made him.. yearn. Yearn for something he did not deserve. Something he wasn’t allowed to have- especially not with all he’s said to her in the beginning.

“Ha, I’m not his type, so a girl like me wouldn’t be a good example.”, she’d said once, after Damien had made some out of the blue suggestion. Sam couldn’t remember what it was, he just knew what she said.

“Do I really look like a boy with this haircut?”, she’d asked Damien, sniffling. She had gotten a bad haircut, and at the time, Sam had found it fit to joke around. Now though, the memory of the way she teared up tore at his very soul. Her eyes were so bright, but not with the happiness he’d grown to see and adore. It was with embarrassment, and reflected in them was his cruel laughing face.

“You’re such a fucking jerk.”, she’d had said in response to his joke, “No wonder everyone wanted to fight you- you’re just some mindless rage monster.”

The last sentence came out in a venomous hiss. It was weird, though, how the venom in them didn’t start to do anything to him until much later. Until he was feeling these things- having dreams that ended up as nightmares. Ones where she screamed how she could never love some monster. Where she told him how disgusting it was that he even liked her in that way. How he deserved to rot in the demon world- alone.

The venom in that sentence seeped into his very core, because he was awful to her. Monstrous and cruel, emotionally and he of all people knows the emotional scars last longer than the physical. Both hurt and scar- but the emotional continuously opens up. It doesn’t matter how much or how well you stitch it all up. It always reopens.

Some were opening now, as he watched her laugh with some guy he’d never met before. Some normal human guy at her job- some guy who hadn’t called her names or told her she looked like a boy. A guy that wasn’t him.

A guy he had no right to ask about- a guy he couldn’t ask her to stop talking to so he could drive her back home.

A guy that could take her from her home- or force him out of it. When Sam first met her, he couldn’t wait for her to get out of his hair- but now? He’d give anything for her to stay with him- forever, willingly. He’d never force her. He’d never make her stay or force him to allow him and his brothers to stay with her forever.

They’d all have to move out someday- and he hated the very thought.

She smiled in a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen.

“Who was that?”, he asks casually as he pulls out.

She just shakes her head, “A co-worker, not that you really care. Sorry for keeping you waiting.”

Her voice is light and playful, but it stings him painfully. He’d wait an eternity for her-

“Aw, c’mon. I care.”, he says, masking his hurt.

“Sam, you’ve called this place a shithole with shit people.”

He sighs, “That was.. before.”

She gives a small laugh, and he hates how his heart picks up, “Before what?”

“Before..”, he struggles to say what he really wants to say- but some lingering fear stops him, “Before I learned to tolerate you.”

“Ohh, wow. How kind of you.”, she rolls her eyes, and he swears he sees something in them- some hurt.. but then, of course he would. It’s just about all he’s ever seen, only now, it hurts him too. 

“You know I’m joking.”

“Do I?”, she says, like always, but he’s unaware she really means it. She really wonders if he’s joking- she can’t tell anymore. She isn’t sure if the initial hate is gone- but she doesn’t want to acknowledge why she even cares.

He’s a demon. He can’t feel even a fraction of what she feels, and he made that clear plenty of times without even having to say it. Without her even having to hint at a damn thing.

“I think you do.”, he replies, giving her a small grin.

“I don’t.”, is her response, and this one is bitter and bothered. It makes him glance at her, but she stares out the windshield, forcing her eyes to remain calm and clear. This realization hits a few times a week. It leaves her upset and hurt and confused. Often angry as well.

How could she not be? She’s feeling for someone who can’t give her one nice compliment. Can’t notice when she’s dressed up purposely for him- notice her when she wants him to. She can’t teach him to love- and how awful is it that... he’s the only one she does love, and she can’t change it. The feelings won’t leave- he gives her hope and then.. it’s gone.

She breaks the tense silence with a harsh “Good night.”, and then leaves him alone in his car. When she’s out of sight, he slams his hands on his steering wheel, denting it only slightly.

“DAMMIT!”, he screams to no one, “Why are you like this?!”, he hisses, damning himself for his ways.

“That’s because you’re just infatuated. You don’t love her, and she’ll never love you. Move on.”, James had told him, interrupting a conversation he was having with Damien.

“Don’t listen to-”, Damien began, but James wouldn’t have it.

“You know one half of my sentence is absolutely true-”

“It isn’t-”

“Damien. It won’t happen. You know this, don’t you?”

Damien suddenly goes quiet, something dark flashing in his eyes. It makes Sam oddly nervous, until he speaks, “That was low and just like him.”

James looked visibly shocked and hurt, but he remained silent. The conversation just dropped. Damien left him with, “Do whatever you want. It’s obvious you won’t listen to me.”

Infatuation? Was that what this was?

As her laughter rings from the kitchen, and a sad smile pulls across his lips, he knows it’s not. As he watches her and continues to yearn for her, he knows it’s more. He doesn’t just crave the things all incubi crave when it comes to her. He craves for more.

That more, will absolutely be the death of him.

“She’ll never love you..”

He’s aware, James.. He’s aware..

[meowloudly15]

Stranded: Day 6 - HAIR-RELATED CRISIS

I RETURN FROM STORY HIATUS AT LONG LAST! Thank you for patiently waiting for my newest installment! I hope it was worth the wait!

Just as a reminder, I've switched to updating solely on Thursdays.

First | Previous | Next

Gwen woke up to the blare of her alarm, blurred lines of text sitting millimeters from her face, and a sore neck. She had fallen asleep while sitting on the floor finishing her homework. She pushed her physics worksheets off of her face and fumbled for her phone.

It was time for another day of school.

Of all the places at which Gwen could have stayed during her duration on this parallel universe, free from all other responsibilities, it had to be a school. At least it was Friday.

ATOMIC DISJUNCTION

As Gwen moved to put her papers in her folder, she fell face-first onto the floor, her face landing on the physics papers. She felt something pop inside her nose. When she finally regained the ability to stand, she found that there was a trace of blood on one of the pieces of paper. She swore.

Today was not going to be a good day. She could just tell.

Physics proved relatively uneventful. Gwen's nose stopped bleeding shortly before class began. She explained the bloodstain to Mrs. Quinn, who accepted the paper with a shrug.

Miles seemed on edge all throughout class. He kept fidgeting with the bottom of his pants and jumping at the slightest noises. Plus, he didn't look like he had slept well.

Besides his twitchiness, something seemed odd about him. Gwen couldn't quite put her finger on what it was.

The next few classes passed uneventfully, except for Gwen's periodic atomic disjunctions, of course. She turned in all of her back work except for her history papers, which she had accidentally left in her dorm room in her haste. She told Mr. Adams that she would get them to him by the end of the day.

During lunch, instead of heading directly to the cafeteria, Gwen took a different route, planning to swing by her room to pick up the missing papers. She was in the lobby when she noticed an itch at the base of her skull.

LIKE YOU

Gwen felt somebody bump into her. She turned around and saw Miles.

"Oh!" she said. "Pardon!"

Wait a second.

He had spider-powers, too? That was the reason for his antsiness? How had she not noticed it before? Was it a recent development?

Miles didn't answer. He stood frozen in place. Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead.

Gwen cocked her head to the side. "Are you all right? You look, uh, hot."

Miles replied, "I, uh, it's puberty! Except…" His voice started dropping deeper with every word he said. "Except I'm done with that. I'm a man now."

If Gwen wasn't as adept at bottling up her emotions, she would have laughed at his senseless display of machoness.

"Oh, and I'm Miles."

Gwen brightened up. "I'm Gwe-"

She paused in the middle of her name when she suddenly remembered that she was supposed to be called Wanda.

"...eeeeanda."

Miles looked at her in confusion. "Wait, your name is Gwanda?"

Gwen grinned hokily. "Yeah! I-It's African."

She quickly looked down at herself, then at Miles' much darker complexion.

"South African! Uh, no accent, though, 'cause I was raised here, in the States!"

Cover stories were not her forte.

Miles furrowed his brow, then nodded. "Uh, okay."

Had he bought into the story? Gwen couldn't tell.

That was probably the second-worst cover story she had ever made up. Nothing would ever rival the "It's ketchup" moment, although this new "Gwanda" moment came pretty close. There was no way Miles would buy it, unless he was really, really gullible. (For the record, Gwen's dad was not.)

Miles stared at Gwen for what was only a couple of seconds but felt longer, uncomfortably longer.

Had he seen through her flimsy disguise?

Did he realise that she had powers, too?

Gwen started to babble, "Uh, no, not really. My name's Wanda, actually, no G…"

It didn't look like Miles was listening. He wore a thousand-yard stare.

HAIR-RELATED CRISIS

Oh, this couldn't possibly end well.

Miles put his hand on her shoulder. She recoiled slightly.

"Hey."

Gwen blinked and nodded, starting to back away. She became all the more aware of the places that she had to be. "I, uh… okay? I'll see you around."

"See ya." Miles took his hand off of her shoulder, but it passed through her hair, sticking to it.

This was definitely not going to end well.

Miles stared at his hand in shock, then tried to pull it out of Gwen's hair. Of course, it didn't work, and it hurt.

"Hey!" Gwen exclaimed.

He had no idea about his powers, did he? This was not good at all.

Miles gaped. He tried pulling again, nearly yanking Gwen's hair straight out of her head. It was not a fun experience.

"Ow ow ow ow!"

If he kept pulling, provided that he also had super-strength, Gwen was not in for a good time. She grabbed his wrist and pulled it back towards her in an attempt to get him to stop.

"Calm down, okay?"

"Hey, let go of me!" Miles tried to pull his hand back.

"No, hold on, just chill out!"

Gwen had a feeling that they were working at cross purposes.

PERSONS TAKING NOTICE

The two of them started to struggle against each other, Miles trying to get his hand unstuck, Gwen trying to protect herself from getting scalped or having her neck snapped. A crowd of students started to gather. It looked like she couldn't exposition her way out of this mess.

"It's just puberty!" exclaimed Miles.

Gwen gaped. "I don't think you know what puberty is!"

He really didn't know about his powers. That wasn't going to help her. But she still had to get him unstuck, somehow.

"Just try to relax, okay?"

Miles said simultaneously, "I have a plan. I'm gonna pull really hard, and..."

This kid would be the death of her. Literally.

"That's a terrible plan!"

"Count of three. One…"

"No no no no no!"

"Two…"

Right now, Miles was a threat. She had to neutralise the threat. So Gwen grabbed the straps of his backpack and, ducking beneath him, flipped him over her head.

A couple of teachers rushed over and jabbered to the two kids, berated them for fighting on school grounds, asked them what was the matter. Miles didn't respond. Gwen feared that she might have knocked him unconscious by mistake. Or maybe he didn't feel like talking. She couldn't blame him if that was the case.

Gwen told the teachers, "He got his hand stuck in my hair and we couldn't get it out."

They escorted the two students to the nurse's office, where the nurse cut off the part of Gwen's hair that was stuck to Miles' hand. Gwen surveyed the damage with a hand mirror.

Today was not a good day.

Miles put on a quirky smile, hoping to alleviate the tension between them. "Uh, nice to meet you?"

Gwen stared straight ahead, not the slightest bit amused. "Sure. Total pleasure."

What was she supposed to do about her friggin' hair?

Plus, that ordeal had sapped a lot of her lunch period free time. Gwen needed to get to her dorm and get her homework.

Miles, his head hung low, stood up and walked out of the office. He turned around and looked back at her. "I, uh, see you around?"

She rolled her eyes. No puppy-dog gaze would penetrate her stoic exterior.

The nurse walked back over, carrying a pair of scissors. "Wanda, is it?"

Gwen looked over at her and nodded.

"Would you like me to fix your hair? Or try, at least?"

Gwen nodded again. "Can you?"

"Uh, yeah, my son's ex had her hair partly shaved on one side, and I could try to give you that haircut, if you want. Otherwise, you could get a hat-"

Gwen didn't have a hat. "Can you show me what it'd look like?"

The nurse nodded and pulled out her phone. She showed Gwen a picture of a young man standing next to a girl with an undercut.

Gwen shrugged. "That's fine by me. I mean, my hair's ruined anyway. How much worse could you make it?"

The nurse chuckled. "Right, then. Oh, here, put this towel around your neck."

About ten minutes later, Gwen walked out of the nurse's office, her feelings of irritation having subsided. However, there were some hair scraps caught under her clothes, which caused her physical irritation.

She was hungry, but her lunch break was halfway over by now. With luck, she would be able to get food and eat super-

Oh yeah, she had to fetch her history papers from her room. That was important.

PIGEON SWARM

As Gwen walked toward her dorm room, an oddly-shaped shadow appeared on the floor. There was a loud thump. She looked upward and saw Miles, who wasn't wearing a shirt and appeared to be stuck to a bunch of pigeons, lying on the skylight.

Gwen rubbed her eyes, then looked back up in time to see him jolt away.

She hoped nothing bad had happened to him. At the same time, she couldn't help but feel as if he deserved it. Karma was on her side, at least for the time being.

Gwen proceeded onward to her room after gazing around and making certain that nobody else had noticed Miles' sudden appearance. Both surprisingly and fortunately, nobody had.

First | Previous | Next

[sometimesrosy]

Hi Rosy! I'd love your advice. I've been dealing with a rough medical situation over the last number of months. It's hard to treat but I'm working hard to heal my body with whole foods, exercise, meditation, good sleep etc etc. My 100 fandom friends have been great support and fun to talk to. But a lot of friends/family IRL just don't fully get that this has been traumatic and shocking for me because I mostly "look fine" on the outside. I've had people I'm close to make all kinds of comments-

-if I can’t fully beat this physically, then I can always see a counselor for the emotional toll it takes or being flippant about it saying “it could always be worse, and I should be grateful it’s not” or treating my actual disease as if it were a bad haircut that will go away. All I really want is emotional support and encouragement from people telling me to believe that I’m healing. Is this just hard for people to give? Do you have to tell them what you need? Are people just too self-absorbed-

-to check in on their friends and family and treat their (very real) concerns like they’re real? This whole process has made me see how so much of what we talk/fight about is stupid and petty. It’s given me more compassion for the sick too. And I’m super grateful for The 100 fandom for helping me get through it. I just wondered if you had any thoughts around this idea of difficult health times / emotional support. thank you!

To be honest, nonny. I don’t know. And I don’t know because I’ve been struggling with chronic illness for the last few years, and that is probably partly why I’m here so much, because I don’t have energy for more activity.

I do not think that people are able to understand fully what other people’s existences are like, especially if they can’t SEE the trouble. I have chronic fatigue and ptsd and generalized anxiety, but it just looks like I’m not getting up and doing anything. From the outside, I look fine. Even when people try to be helpful, it comes like, “oh that happens to me too, you just need to exercise more,” and like, I exercised for 30 minutes and ended up with a 3 day migraine, and to be honest, I’ve been exhausted since, and that was a week and a half ago. Or like suggesting meditation for my anxiety, and like yeah, it does help, but I’m already incorporating five different variations of meditation (deep breathing, acupressure, yoga, journaling, drawing) and it’s still just SLOW healing. Sometimes people want to help, even if it’s not really something they can help with.

I just don’t know if everyone CAN understand. You can keep telling them. And maybe if they’re around a lot they start to get it. Like my mom SAW that three day migraine, and when I said it was from going swimming she mentioned it as an ‘excuse’ to not go again (because I’m never active enough and always trying to get out of things) and I got defensive, but actually, she didn’t mean it like that. She meant it like a “reason,” and that meant it was something to be aware of and to work up to. So even though she’s spent some time not really believing I was sick, she’s starting to see it now. “Migraine” she understands. So tired I can’t connect my thoughts and can’t really do anything she doesn’t understand so much.

What can you do? You have to set your own boundaries and believe in yourself and your self care enough to not let disbelievers put you off what you need to do. But also, recognize that understanding takes TIME. I mean, lets be real, it takes�� a while to process your own illness, and you’re living inside of it. 

If you get support on tumblr…you use that support. If tumblr gets to be too much, you take a break or dial back. If one person doesn’t understand you and pushes you too hard, maybe limit your time with them to activities that don’t push your boundaries. Do you know that answering asks sometimes help me focus my brain when I’m struggling, but then sometimes, it’s just too much and I’m too tired and fandom is too anxiety provoking (I’ve been having an anxiety attack since that hijacking thing, and I’m not looking to be dramatic, I’m just looking to take care of myself) and that is when I need to pull back. Do what works until it doesn’t work and then back off. Don’t feel guilty about not living up to commitments, because right now, your health is your first commitment.

does any of that help? it’s basically just how your question is affecting me in my life, so I hope it does. i don’t have the perspective I might have if I weren’t also dealing with it. i might be too close. i’m still working it out. (also I’m a freaking hermit, so if people don’t support me it’s really easy for me to lose contact with them. “lose contact.”)

[hikari-blue-blog1]

The Stigma And The Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD)

I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder three years ago. I´m almost 18 by now, and believe me when I say I´ve seen and heard things.

I wanted to share it, for those who live the same things I do, and maybe can feel some relief knowing they´re not alone...

My parents got divorced when I was 5 years old.

My mother worked 8-10 hours per day so she left me and my sister, who is four years younger than me, with my abussive grandmother.

I was emotionally and physically abused on a daily basis. It happened more times than I can count, let alone remember.  

I endured all of it alone, since my mother thought it was normal for her mother to treat me (and me alone, because she didn´t treat that way my cousins or my sister) like that, she let it happen. And by “that” I mean hit me, pinch me, pull my hair, call me horrible names, spank me, scare me on purpose, force me to eat, blame me and punish me for things I didn´t do, humilliate me in front of other people, and so on.

My mother thought it was normal to treat and discipline kids like that because she was treated like that too.

My dad didn´t have a saying on the situation because my mom dissmissed his opinion with the argument above, and said that I was being “too dramatic about it” and “a brat”.

My dad was also diagnosed with borderline personality disorder after his divorce.

He had a similar background. He was abused both emotionally and physically as a kid, and was depressed since then. He drank, abused of his meds, and had many risky sexual encounters while he was still married with my mother.  

I experienced bullying a lot of times and for a lot of reasons since I was in primary school. That resulted in me becoming really insecure of my body, height, weight, face, skin, hair, etc.

I had high grades all my life until 7th grade, when everything went down and everybody around me started to realize something wasn´t okay about me.

It started to show when I was around 12. It became as insomnia and anxiety.

I had depression, anxiety, abnormal eating and sleeping patterns... I experienced self-destructive behaviours (such as cutting, burning and scratching my own skin, pulling my own hair, banging my head against walls due to frustration and anger, drinking, attempted suicide, engaged in harmful and toxic “romantic” relationships and hid it, etc)

I was misdiagnosed three times before getting an accurate diagnosis of my condition, not to mention the amount of money my parents had to pay, the number of psychiatrists and psychologists we went to looking for help and refused to give it because I was too young and too hard to handle.

Some relatives still joke about my condition. Teachers and friends have done it too. They were supposed to help and support me, but only a few did. They say “Are you in your period again?”, “Did you take your normality pills this morning?”, “Don´t mind her, she´s just borderlining right now”, “She´s an attention whore”, “She´s high or something”, and a lot of “jokes” I have to force myself to ignore, sometimes failing miserably.

I still have scars, both emotional and physical. I am still hurting in a lot of ways, and I suffer because of they way I am treated just because of my diagnosis.

Now, I´m trying to get my life back. To build my confidence, to solve problems wisely, to make good choices, to achieve my goals, to build new friendships and to repair old ones, to learn how to deal with my feelings safely. I´ve worked hard, struggled, and endured many hardships. I´m scarred and I´m still covered in sins and flaws. I still fall, but I´m getting up again and again.

Because I´m still a human being. I just feel things more intensely...

When I hate, I hate too much. When I want something, I want it so bad it aches. When I miss someone, I miss them deeply, and it feels as if a hole was being open in my chest. When I suffer, even over things that seem small to you, I suffer as if I was burning alive. When I care, I care too much. When I try, I try too hard. When I love, I love too much, and too intensely, with a burning passion and burning desire to feel the same love in return... Wanting to feel. And I often find myself afraid of being alone, of being rejected, and I tend to get away in fear. I´m just trying to protect my big and soft heart.

Everytime I feel broken I lost all my will to live, and when in dispair I feel the excruciating urge to make my body feel the same things my mind feels. It´s like that every single time. Whenever I feel sad it´s like my chest was being ripped open and I can´t control it when I cry too hard or too frequently. I´m always in need of reassurance, love, acceptance, validation, attention, entertainment, company. I´m always feeling too much.

It´s terrifying and beautiful at the same time, being this way...

Because when I´m happy, it´s an euphoria I cannot explain. It´s sharp and astonishing and pure. It makes me want to dance and sing and laugh out loud. It feels amazing. And being this sensitive makes me see and appreciate every little detail in and around me.

I notice everytime people smile, when they aren´t comfortable, when their mood changes... I notice it when someone has a new haircut, or likes someone, or likes something. I notice if someone has something to say but is afraid to speak their mind. I notice little fragments of myself in others, and it´s beautiful. I always notice and feel too much.

That´s the best part about it. That whenever I feel something it is pure, hard, immaculated, truthful, and contundent. That´s why I decided to share this piece of myself, because I see how people with Borderline Personality Disorder are often misconceived as emotional vampires, cold-hearted monsters, when in reality we´re just humans. We make mistakes too, but we don´t hurt others on purpose. In fact we´re more likely to hurt ourselves, even without trying.

Yes, we´re still humans. After all, isn´t that what humans do? Feel?

People with Bordeline Personality Disorder tend to have the richest feelings and the richest souls. We know we´re not easy to deal with and we are aware of the difference in the way you perceive things and how we do. But we´re worth it.

We make life more thrilling. We feel everything with a passion is worth contemplating and sharing. We´re extremely, vulnerably, beautifully, perfectly human. We dance with the flames of our wide range of emotions, burning out in a multitude of colors and shades. We feel pain and rage and dispair in almost a poetic way, as well as every possitive emotion you can possibly imagine.

Each one of us is battling. Each one of us has a story behind their scars.

Each one of us is as intense as a thousand suns. That´s what people often ignore and is afraid to find out.

That´s the beauty behind the stigma.

[bigdudez]

Innocent Game pt. 1

It started out pretty innocent. We were still in high school, so at the time we weren’t fully aware of what we were doing. His name was Nate. Obviously not really, but that’s what we’re calling him.

Nate and I had been friends since freshman year, but our social circles never intersected enough for us to get to know each other very well. It wasn’t until senior year when we had about 4 classes together we started to get to know each other very well.

Physically I had always been somewhat attracted to Nate, even if I never really thought about it. He had an adorable face, with a strong jawline and bushy eyebrows that outlined his strong features. He was one of the guys who always needed a shave, but even on the days he’d shaved that morning he had five o’clock shadow. Even back then he was tall, quite a bit taller than me. I hadn’t asked, but I figured he was about 6’0 or 6’1”. He had broad shoulders, thick arms and wide chest. The shirts he wore covered him, but always stretched at the arms and around his pecs. His legs were pretty meaty too, and even his neck was surprisingly huge. Apparently this was because he played a bunch of sports like football, wrestling, and lacrosse in the different seasons, so he worked out a lot. In addition to that he had a thick gut, not huge, but just enough to show through his shirt and drive me crazy. Thanks to the fact I’d always been into bigger guys, he was eye candy on top of being a fun dude to talk to during class.

We would mostly talk about school work in the beginning, but when we both found we had the same taste in music and sense of humor, we started to hang out during lunch and before school as well. As we got closer, I noticed myself gazing at him more and more. I liked how tight his sleeves fit, the way he filled out his jeans, and how his tummy was always visible through his shirt. He had this way of standing right up near me so that I couldn’t help but smell him, raising his arms while leaning on the wall to show off his hairy, sweaty armpits from his morning workouts. When he lifted up his arms like that, of course his midriff and belly button would show, along with his treasure trail. With his height he had to look right down at me to talk, and his smile was so pure and earnest I would feel myself blush whenever I made him laugh. It was pretty great, but somtimes it felt like torture.

We began a game one lunch, I don’t remember how we got on the topic, but we started talking about how much he seemed to always eat. At first he seemed a bit shy about it, but when I expressed how cool (but mostly hot) I thought it was, he seemed to relax about it. He even started to get cocky about it. That was when it really started, and it was kinda my fault. Well mostly, okay maybe like 90% my idea. At the time it was just to see if he would say yes.

“You should see if you could eat everything I feed you” I said with a smirk. He looked at me and chuckled with that adorable smile, but I just kept looking to show I was serious.

“Alright, lets do it little man.” He said, flexing, puffing out his chest and patting his gut. I knew he liked to eat and show off, but this was going to get me hard in the cafeteria if I wasn’t careful. Somehow my suggestion had brought out a weirdly cocky side to him I had never seen.

I went into the lunch line again and came back with two trays. The lunch lady had given me a slightly confused look, but ultimately said nothing as I paid. On each of the trays there was a serving of pasta, cheesy bread, milk carton, and a pudding cup. This wasn’t actually much of a challenge, so I went to extra mile to buy a large bag of chips.

Knowing this still probably wouldn’t be enough, an evil idea crept into my mind.

***

“What took so long? Jeez I’m only gonna have like 15 minutes to eat whatever you brought.” He said impatiently when I returned. I just silently smiled at him and set down the trays. He looked at them and smirked back.

“Is that it? Thought this was supposed to be hard or something” he said, laughing and grabbing the plastic fork from one of the trays. He immediatly started to chow down and was making good progress. The pasta from both trays was gone within a few minutes, and the bread and pudding soon followed. The chips took a little longer, but in the end he ate them all too. When he got to the milk he popped open the cartons and downed them both within 30 seconds. The entire time I was struggled to sit still, partly because I found suprisingly cute stuffing his face like that, but also because I couldn’t wait to reveal my suprise.

“UUURP! Well, done with no problem” he said with a wide smile.

“Here, for good measure,” he said, picking up one of the trays and actually licking it clean of the sauce and grease from the pasta. I thought I was going to loose it for a minute there. Then he picked up the other tray and did the same thing.

“Well, admit it. I won easily,” and patted his stomach. Bloated a bit, and I wished more than anything to reach out and rub it. But I had one more trick.

“Hold on, we said whatever I gave you to eat, and I still have one thing left,” I said with the most evil smile I’ve ever given. I grabbed a bottle from behind me, but not just any bottle. A two gallon bottle filled with water.

“Waitwaitwaitwaitwait, Nono. First of all, this was an agreement over food, not water. Secondly, we’ve only got like 5 minutes left, and I’d throw up if I tried to chug that thing. Third, where the hell did you get that.” He questioned, looking fairly queasy all of a sudden.

“Actually, you already drank the milk cartons, and I already added some water flavoring so that part is invalid. Secondly you’re the one who said he would eat everything by the end of lunch so that’s on you. Thirdly I told one of the football guys you wanted to borrow one for practice, and he had and extra if you can believe it. So what’s it gonna be?” I asked challengingly.

I wasn’t sure if he would go with it, but he just stood up, looked me dead in the eye, popped of the cap, and started chugging. It was when he stood up that people noticed. Most people ignored it until he actually started to make progress. Not even stopping to take a breath, he kept chugging that bottle. As he went on he definitely started to look queasy, but after he had half of it drained people around us actually started to cheer. The whole time I’m not sure if he even noticed, because he never broke eyecontact with me. It was exciting, but also kind of terrifying. His dark brown eyes were like daggers into my soul, and in three more heavy gulps he was done. Almost the entire 5 tables around us all applauded and cheered, even if it was in a sarcastic way. He sat down after that, looking seriously bloated. His stomach was most definitely sticking out more than it had been a 15 minutes ago.

“UUURP!” He let out a wet sounding burp and covered his mouth, like he was about to hurl.

“Shoot, okay you know what, I’m sorry about that. That was just mean of me, bad idea. Are you good dude?” I asked concerned, and genuinely unsure if he would throw up, “Wanna go to the bathroom or the nurse?”

“Nah I’m good. Thanks though,” he said standing. He was a little wobbly, but his gut was defiantly bigger than before. He didn’t quite seem alright, but the way he was rubbing his gut with his big hands made me loose my focus.

“Honestly that was pretty fun dude. It hurts now but man, in the moment it felt almost hot.” He said, I figured he was messing with me, and when I looked up to study his expression he started chuckling.

“Don’t worry yeah I was kidding,” he said, “although I’m gonna piss like a fucking fountain later today.”

We walked off to our next class, which was one we didn’t have together. The whole time taking notes in class I was pretty hot and bothered by the image of Nate’s gut sticking out like that. The way his arm flexed while holding up that bottle. I felt bad that I had used him that way, but damn his shirt had gotten so much tighter in such a small amount of time. It got me thinking about the possibilities.

“Crap I should stop now. Maybe I should go for a walk to take my mind off it,” I thought to myself. After our teacher got through the notes, i finished the inclass worksheet we were assigned . With nothing else to do to take my mind off it, I asked to go to the bathroom to kill some time.

When I walked in I saw a familiar haircut from the back, with Nate of course standing at the urinal.

“Nate, how are you? You seemed pretty queasy after lunch,” I said, trying to gauge if he was angry with me at all.

“I’m alright dude. No worries, the only thing is I’ve been pissing for like two minutes already and I haven’t let up yet.” He said, looking back at me with that smile.

I listened to the sound of a strong stream hitting the side of the urinal, doing my best not to look like I was looking.

“Oh damn. How much longer do you think you can keep it up?” I asked, mostly just intrigued by the thought of him holding himself.

“Not sure, but probably for a while still, I feel like the tanks still pretty full,” he said as he shook himself up and down a bit to adjust.

The incredible thing was is that he was right. The stream went on strong for another few minutes, and even as it died down it still kept going for at least another 2. I wasn’t quite sure why, but I found it somewhat hot.

“Damn that took forever, but wow did I need to piss,” he said relaxing, leaning his head back a bit to smile at me.

“Holy crap Nate that was at least like 5 minutes! Jesus have you not used the toilet at all before this!?” I asked, amazed at how long he had gone.

“No I guess not, but when you gotta go you gotta go,” he replied, shaking himself off and zipping up his fly. He went over to wash his hands, and wiped them on his shirt.

“Damn though man, my gut feels stretched super high still,” he said rubbing it, “you gotta feel this man!” He said, going right up to me in the dominating way he did. Suddenly he was grabbing my hands and pushing them into his stomach. It was rock solid, the fabric was stretched tight, and it felt like his skin was too. It was too much, and I felt overstimulated with desire. I had to get out before I did something would regret.

“Yeah, damn, tight. Look I’ve been gone a while better get back to class,” and I ran out the bathroom door and back to class, kicking myself for bailing so quickly.

[yuki-d-raizel-blog]

Hero

Chapter 25/??

Relationship: Todoroki Shouto x Reader (Your/Name), (Full/Name)

Summit: It all begin at the Sports Festival when Shouto’s other half met Endevour by mistake. The student never thought to see his partner fight against his father just to show him that he is wrong. It started from that instant, Shouto’s new path started exactly from that moment thanks to his friends and his beloved one.

---

This time, Shouto wakes up first than you. He stares at her sleeping, and gently touches her lips with his thump thinking about your warm smile. Todoroki doesn’t want to wake her up, but they must go to school again. The internship is around the corner.

“I want to be a hero who protects you. I don’t like seeing you in pain, I feel so powerless… I want to be stronger enough to protect you in the same way you protected me.” <<My love, is time to get up.>>

<<Mmh… Shouto… welcome back…>> she rolls over and keeps sleeping.

“What am I gonna do? I’m crazy about this woman.” the young man sits next the bed and starts to play with your hair, <<We have to go downstairs and eat something, don’t you think you should wake up? I know you can hear me.>> she doesn’t want to wake up and Shouto thinks, when your words come in his mind, “She likes my voice…” <<WAKE UP DAMN IT!!!>>

<<Pff…hahahahaha…!>>

<<I don’t know how to feel about getting you to wake up like this.>> he turns the back to you and crosses his arms.

<<Aw, now you’re being unfair.>> you raise your face from the pillow and kiss his cheeks, <<Speaking of which, was that a Bakugou imitation? It was shockingly accurate.>>

<<I’m aware.>> Shouto is doing his best to ignore you and pretend to be angry.

<<Are you jealous because your normal voice couldn’t wake me up, but your Bakugou imitation could?>>

“I hate how much I am easy to read in front of her!” <<I am not.>>

<<….Your voice.>> that tone is so gentle and warm that Shouto can’t ignore anymore and looks into your happy eyes and that cute pale blush, <<Call my name once more, with your voice.>>

He faces you and puts on a lovely expression, showing how much he loves you, <<Belial, thank you for saving me, my hero.>>

<<Yeah.>> in respond to that, your expression reflects his, your eyes are staring his beautiful figure.

He cups you face in his warm hands, <<And also, (Y/N), thank you for loving me.>>

“A kind voice that calls my name. I am drenched in your wonderful colors…” you take one hand, intertwine your fingers with his, while tears of happiness fall from your eyes, <<Me too, thank you, hero Shouto.>>

Both share a long and lovely kiss, when he decides to get away a little, he is captured by something. You ask what happened, and he bites his lips to suppress his laugh.

“Ok, no way, nope! Her hair is just really stupid!” <<My love, your head is… odd.>>

<<Eh?>> you get up and go to the nearest mirror, <<Why the hell do I look like Izuku?! Da heck is this?!>> all your hair is curled up, what did you do during your sleep to end like that?

<<Pff… Sorry, I can’t hold it back anymore…>> Todoroki laughs so hard that he is almost crying, <<If you dye your hair green- Hahaha, ugh, my stomach hurts.>>

<<I don’t wanna hear it from a bicolor super Saiyan!>> you hand the mirror to him and he immediately quiet down looking at his hair, they are more messed up than usual, <<Ha, are you gonna transform now?>>

<<……How the hell did I end like this…?>>

<<What level are you? Two? Three? Four? Oh, don’t tell me you are at the Blue one!>> you grin and cross your arms, <<Where did you left Vegeta? Pff, oh jesus, my chest hurts for keeping my laugh inside….>>

<<….I’m actually the God and the Blue one at the same time.>> he turns on his quirk and walks towards you, <<What are you gonna do now?>>

<<….Run.>> you close the door behind you and Todoroki hits it pretty hard, <<Hahaha, I beat a Saiyan! HA-HA-HA, All Might-sensei will->>

“Shit that was painful…” Todoroki groans and then open the door suddenly, dragging you along, <<Boo.>>

<<Crap!>> you slide on the handrail of the stairs to run away from Shouto who chases you, <<The Saiyan is still alive! Wait, you’re using your quirk, is not fair!>>

<<It’s so fair! Come back here, my love.>> he almost touches your shirt, making you jump, <<Close.>>

<<Am I in time to say sorry?>> you keep the distance with a table, and moving on the opposite way when your boyfriend moves to get you, <<Forgive me, I can’t do this in the morning, I need to fully wake up yet!>>

Todoroki jumps on the table and throws the flour you prepared during the night for the breakfast, your own habits betrayed you, <<Hahaha, look at you, now you are officially my girlfriend.>>

<<Seriously?!>> she spits the flour on the sink and the half-half boy hands you his phone in a selfie mode, the screen reflects your face and your hair covered in half with the flour, making the same hair he has, <<It looks pretty good on me though.>>

When he lets his guard down to kiss you, you hook his foot with yours and make him fall, but you didn’t think that he could grab your shirt and drag you along. Since Todoroki knows that he can’t win with the techniques, he chooses to put a bit of his strength to block her in a tight hug. Struggling is futile, she knows that, but she still tries… The girl is a little pissed off because Shouto looks at her with that satisfied smile.

<<You can be more agile than me, but I’m definitely more muscular than you.>> he kisses you and rests his forehead on yours.

<<This is bullshit. You are not even ticklish, I can’t take revenge with anything!>> his hands stop on your sides and you jump immediately, <<Don’t tickle me, I’m gonna die. And don’t say “my hands slipped” again because I’m gonna end you.>> “He found out that I’m ticklish by mistake when we were cuddling, and what happen now? He doesn’t feel anything damn it!”

<<Sorry my love, I win this time too.>>

<<Only because I don’t use Astraroth. If I did that, you would be the one trapped in my arms.>> thinking a bit, you smile and moving your arms along his abdomen, you close them around his back and kiss him, <<Oh wait, I can still do it.>>

 ---

During your way for the classroom, you notice a lot of mess, like a lot. What’s going on? In the class, everyone is sit in circle with a wooden box and some little sticks inside. Where is Aizawa? What about lectures? What’s happening in here?

<<Oh (Y/N)-chan, just in time!>> Mina grabs your hand and sits you and a chair, <<Todoroki too! Take a seat!>>

All the class is in circle, even Bakugou is there, he is really pissed off about that, but if he is there too, is a bad thing, right? Both, you and Shouto sit on the left chairs and wait that someone talks.

<<Something bad happened?>> you whisper to Momo sat right next to you.

<<Please forgive me, I tried to stop them…>> she responds sighing, <<I was completely powerless…>>

<<Since everyone is here, I explain this affair.>> Mina became the leader of the group? <<Aizawa-sensei has some issues to do, so we are free for the next two hours, so… Let’s play the King Game!>>

“The King Game? Wait, I hope is not the one that I’m thinking… If it is, I don’t want to play… Tenka always did nasty and sly things with this stupid game.” you swallow and listen to the rules.

<All these pallets have numbers and there is one that has the mark of the “king”.>> she says holding the cup, <<It all takes one to know the number, for example, 8 and 5, you must complete your given order, and then that order is absolute. If you refuse, a penalty waits for you!>>

“I knew it!”

<<Who is the king?>> everyone picks a pallet and waits for the order.

<<I am the king!>> Hagakure waves the wooden pallet and pronounces her law, <<The number 3 and 7 must stare at each other for one minute.>>

Kirishima and Hanta stand in front of each other and complete the mission successfully. The students put the sticks back and say the crucial phrase again.

<<It’s my turn!>> oh, Mina is the king? Please, nothing cruel, <<The number 9 and 1, do a kabedon!>>

The whole class starts laughing because the numbers are too different. Are Mineta and Shouji, there’s no way that they complete the request, so the king decides a penalty: run around the school and come back there.

“Woah, Mina can’t be the king! It’s too dangerous for us!” they all thought at the same thing. Waiting that the penalized ones to come back, everyone put the sticks back and pray that Mina wouldn’t be the leader again.

<<Ok, um…>> Uraraka is the king, there is a god! <<The number 5 must sit on the lap of the number 7.>>

“Ok…” you stand up and Izuku raises his hand, “Oh no… Poor Izuku, he can’t stand physical contact…” you stop in front of his seat and ask, <<Are you sure? If you don’t want, we can do the penalty.>>

<<N-no, I can h-h-handle t-t-this!>> he puts his hands up and stays tense as an iron pole, <<G-g-go ahead!!>> he is screaming too, he is not ok with this.

<<If you are uncomfortable, tell me, ok? I’ll get away immediately.>> you slowly sit on his lap and looks at his super red face, <<Am I too heavy?>>

<<N-no, y-you are l-lighter t-than I thought (Y/N)-chan.>> “My heart is gonna explode! I can barely stand being near her, and now… I’m gonna die! Please one minute, pass fast!” as soon the alarm sounds, you stand up as fast as possible and ask if Midoriya is ok, his face is burning that smoke is actually coming out from his ears.

<<Who is the king?>>

<<Fuck yes! Finally!>> Bakugou shows the pallet with a crown mark, <<I dare the number 3 to hit the number 2!>> Shouto comes near you and hits you with a snap of his index finger on the forehead, <<Da fuck was that half-half idiot?!>>

<<You didn’t specify how I should hit the number 2, so I decided myself.>> he sits again and do a smirk, <<You are not suited to be a king.>>

<<What the fuck did you just said?! Next time I’m gonna make you beg my forgiveness fucking half-half!>>

Oh no… Mina is the king again… God please help-

<<The number 9 must kidnap All Might-sensei and bring him here in five minutes!>>

Never fucking mind.

<<I don’t even know where the hell he is!>> you check the windows- oh those blond hair, there’s only a person with that strange haircut, <<Fuck it.>> you open a window and jump off the building.

<<(Y/N), what are you doing, man?!>> exclaims Kirishima rushed to see what happened, <<She is crazy…>>

She shows her blue wings for a moment and soften the fall with a somersault. She runs towards the teacher who stares at her shocked. The two talks for a little, then All Might picks the student up and with a single jump, he reaches the classroom and get through the window. After putting the girl down, he lightly hits her in the head, scolding her for being too reckless, for jumping off from a freaking building and because sometimes she is too competitive.

This game is going too far, the requests are becoming like a war declaration or are nasty… Fortunately, you are safe when your number is picked because the king is too gentle. Like, you only brought All Might in the class, hugged Kaminari, stared at Momo, scared some pedestrians and copied a dance choreography of a K-pop band with Kirishima. The two hours are almost done, this is not the worst you did so far, Tenka was really an awful king, this is a piece of cake!

<<Yay, I’m the king again!>>

“Why she always picks the king one? Is she cheating?!” Mina again…

Here it comes…

<<The number 8 must pick up bridal style the number 6!>>

“I’m the 8, who I must pick….” <<I choose the penalty.>> you refuse immediately since your partner is Bakugou, <<I don’t want to pick him up and have my face fucked up.>>

<<Same here.>> Katsuki groans, <<I’d rather fucking die than be in a girl arms, especially HER.>>

<<Then… The penalty is… The number 6 will picks All Might-sensei upon his shoulders and the number 8 will pick both up on its shoulder and make a tower! Good luck!>>

<<Do you have a fucking All Might kink, you pinky bitch?>> Bakugou leaves his jacket on his desk and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt while you convinced All Might to come inside again for a little.

You close the door and apologize with the teacher once more.

<<This game again?>> the hero sighs and listens to the request, <<Are you sure, young Bakugou?>>

<<Ask that stupid question to the fire woman.>> he crouches, grabs the suit of the teacher and starts to stand up again, moving a step forward to be more balanced, “Fuck, he is god damn heavy!”

<<A-are you ok, young Bakugou?>>

<<Shut u-up…>> he is focusing on maintain the balance, the littlest movement can break his balance, <<Hurry up dumbass woman!>>

You tired a few times but it’s definitely too heavy for you. Bakugou is swearing since they must stay like a tower for one minute, and he is like that for almost five minutes just for you.

<<Since you didn’t specify how I must do it…>> you take your jacket off, loosen your tie and roll the sleeves, you hit the earring and set yourself between Katsuki’s legs. You grab his thighs and raise a little from your crouched position, <<Ready?>>

<<Hurry the fuck up!>>

<<Heave-ho!>> with a monstrous simplicity, you lift the teacher and the student on your shoulder as they are feathers, <<Oi speaking bomb, next time pull your freaking pants up, your belt is poking my neck.>>

<<Shut the fuck up, I do what I want!>> he shouts back, <<Your shoulders are too small, I’m too uncomfortable here! There’s no fucking space!>>

<<Excuse you, there’s no space because your stupid pants are in the way!>> you groan at him and vice versa.

<<Y-young (Y/N), a-are you ok?>> All Might is a bit worried for you, your body isn’t muscular as Bakugou’s or Shouto’s, how you lifted them up so easily when you before couldn’t move them by an inch. “These two argue too much…”

<<She is using the Gluttony form to increase her physical abilities.>> explains Izuku staring at her intensively.

<<Gosh dang it, he discovered almost all my tricks.>> you comment clicking your tongue, <<Go away, you scary nerd.>>

<<H-hey, I don’t accept that from someone who plays videogames, is a bookworm and has my same vice!>>

<<You can’t argue back with that (Y/N), hahaha!>> says Kirishima laughing, <<He wins this time.>>

Finally the alarm signs the end of the challenge and the bell signs the end of the game since the two hours are over. Thank god, that was hard. All Might adverts the students that Aizawa is coming, so you fix your uniform quickly and the class cleans the room and take their seats, faking that they were studying and not playing a life threating game.

 ---

<<I love fireworks so much.>> you say sat in a soft hill watching the dark sky being painted with colors.

<<Do you like their colors?>> asks Shouto next to you.

<<… Fireworks…>> her eyes start to water, <<Bloom brilliantly in the silent night, but it only lasts for a single moment. It feels like each of these moments, bright and vivid, come together into a litany that etches itself into the heart. That’s why->> Todoroki hugs you and sinks his face on your neck, <<S-Shouto…?>>

“Watching the fireworks, unconsciously, thoughts of you come together in my mind. Within the heart held nothing but my conviction to completely deny my father, burst in a radiant light. It was a mere moment. In that moment, the me that existed up till then was utterly unmade…” he thinks pushing you closer, “You are just like fireworks… You’re made me see its beauty, that strength and the risk that comes with it, will in an instant dissipate together with these fireworks.” <<(Y/N), I want you always here… The time we have to stay like this is probably only a single moment in a lifetime… So->> the girl stands and makes a few steps. The view of her surrounded by the darkness and being lighted up with colorful falling stars is so breathtaking that Shouto for a second couldn’t think anymore. Are her tears that killed her happy smile that awaked him, <<(Y/N)?>>

<<I can’t be with you anymore…>> she says crying, <<Open your eyes dear… This is only a dream…>>

<<? W-what are you talking about?>> when Todoroki stretches a hand to grab her, he finds himself in a burning city, surrounded by dead people, <<M-Midoriya… Bakugou… Iida… W-what is this?>> while he scans everything to understand what’s happening under a heavy rain, something marches in the bloody streets, <<Noumu?! Those are the villains who attacked us… What are they doing here?>>

                                        Look better, Todoroki Shouto.

The fire becomes the darkest crow with deep red eyes, showing itself to the student. Its flames destroy the buildings near to him, turning them into ashes. Endevour’s son follows the ashes when his attention is captured by one of the Noumus. It is holding someone by their neck and it drags them like a garbage bag.

<<(Y/N)!!>> the young man rushed to your side protected by the crow that kills immediately everyone with just a flicker of its fire wings, <<(Y/N)!! (Y/N)!!>> he picks her up and holds her cold body near to his, hoping to warm her up with his quirk, <<…I promise to share my feelings more with you, I promise to never leave you again, I promise to try my hardest to understand you better… I will do anything, just... Don’t leave me… I need your light, I still need you, my love, I’m begging you… Open your eyes, please…>> he keeps praying and calling her name, but the girl doesn’t breathe anymore, <<THERE’S SOMEONE HERE?! ALL MIGHT, DAD!!>> no one hears his screams, when a handsome man walks bringing a sad melody along.

Strangely, the sound of the rain becomes silent, as all the screams of destruction that reigned all over the city. Now, only that man’s steps are the only noise audible and that sad melody.

      ♩ If the rain is constantly falling around you, Then I will cut that cloud for you. A weak sound continues to echo in the distance, fell it throughout your entire body.♩

 The man sings with a sorrowed voice and stops when he is close enough to Todoroki. The student feels like he saw that person somewhere but he can’t remember now. When he opens his lips to asks who the man is, the melody inside the town changes. A strong and determinate symphony replaces the old one. This time, is a womanly voice that sings far away. Shouto recognized her figure, that woman is (Y/N)’s mother, he saw her in a picture, she was beautiful as the daughter.

      ♩ This rain that doesn’t seem to stop, steals our warmth without mercy, and this heart becomes colder and colder. If you can….♩

 “What? What she said? I didn’t hear it…” Shouto stares at those two without the force to ask what’s happening, why all his friends died? Why the city is on fire? How (Y/N) died? And why there is an Ash Crow right there, if (Y/N) dies, the beast can’t appear anymore.

<<The one who holds the stars, Todoroki Shouto.>> speaks the woman first, her voice is truly melodic, <<We are here for one reason.>> while she explains, the handsome man picks (Y/N)’s body up and walks away, even if the student is screaming against him, <<All Might will fall forever and the evil will rise again. My daughter will fight against the Verg Avesta’s owner, she will go in berserk and die. You can stop one event, that will change the future.>> she turns her back and follows the man, <<If you fail, this is what wait for all you.>>

 ---

<<!!!>> Shouto sits quickly up, sweating, crying, breathing fast, “W-what… was that?” he looks over your side without finding you, <<…(Y/N)?>> he calls you a few times but you don’t answer. Feeling anxious, he gets off and looks for you.

He checked the entire second floor but you’re not there, so he goes downstairs and finds the light of the living room on. He walks in tiptoe, fortunately you have the bad habit to leave every door a little open, so Shout can see what’s happening through the cracked opened door. You are on the couch, sleeping with a sad expression. He sighs relieved and kneels near your body, trying to wake you up.

<<It’s bad for your health, my love.>> he whispers, <<Let’s go back to bed.>> he shakes her gently, but a few tears fall from her eyes and her expression become painfuller, <<(Y/N), honey, wake up.>> he lifts himself up, grabs both shoulders and shakes you a bit harder.

<<!!>> scared, you open wide your eyes sitting up so fast that you hit your forehead with Shouto’s, <<Ow…>>

<<…>> he feels his head pulsing, but magically, right now he can’t feel any pain at all, “Oh, I did it.”

<<I’m so sorry dear, are you ok?>> holding your red forehead, you add, <<Did I hurt you?>>  

“She worries for me when she is pain too… Really, what I have done to deserve a girlfriend like her?” he takes your hand and pull it away from your forehead, <<No, you didn’t.>> he kisses the red zone and actives his quirk to cool it down a little, <<I know a medicine that helps you to heal faster.>>

<<Oh really?>> you giggle at his phrase, what’s all of sudden? <<What is it? I’m curious now.>>

<<Just stay by my side and you will discover it, ok?>>

“He is scared for what I said about my quirk? There’s no way I leave you, silly. I must protect my precious light, I can’t die so soon.” <<Of course, I’ll be your shadow.>>

<<Please be my light.>> he says climbing the stairs hand in hand, <<I can’t see my path well yet, if you become a shadow, I might get lost again.>>

<<Hahaha, I was joking!>> both of you go to bed smiling and cracking a few jokes before falling asleep again.

 When the sun rises, everyone meets in the metro carrying their hero costumes along. It should be a great and enthusiastic day, but Izuku, Uraraka, you and Todoroki are worried for Iida. He chose to go in the same place where his brother was almost killed, and something in his behavior don’t convince you at all. The glassed boy said that everything is fine, he’s lying, you recognize those eyes, but you decide to not interfere, you just pray and hope that he will understand his mistake soon. Aizawa wishes the best for his students and let them go to the assigned places. Shockingly, Shouto goes to his father’s agency, and in the end, you go to an agency quite far from where you wanted to be.

The internship started.

Izuku and his teacher, the hero Gran Torino start a training to help the young green boy to control better his quirk, he can’t keep destroying his bones every time he activates the One for All. Iida patrols everyday with his mentor, he must find Stain and kill him… As soon Todoroki showed his face, his dad dragged him along to find some clues about Stain, and Endevour found a lot of them. It was annoying to admit it, but Shouto recognizes that his father is a smart man and his intuit is really good. Uraraka is trained with some self-defense techniques, Kirishima found himself to pair with his friend-rival Tetsutetsu from the festival, he was happy and surprised about it, what disappoint him was his internship… He wanted more action and his boss maybe less mafia style. You spend the first day just checking computers and inform your seniors about some villains’ movements; you never thought that your nightmare would become reality very soon.

---Continue...

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 21.5, 22, 22.5, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, Last Chapter

[trans-matters]

My friend just told me that he thinks he's transgender and I want to support him but I'm not sure how because I've never dealt with this kind of thing first hand before, do you have any advice?

I found the following article had some good tips, I’m going to past the article in here.

SOURCE: http://everydayfeminism.com/2015/06/how-to-be-ally-to-trans-friend/

1. Find an Appropriate Space to Process Your Thoughts and Feels

Holy guacamole! Transgender?

Maybe it’s been a long time coming, or maybe you’re completely shocked. You might be scared, or uncertain, or downright confused. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s understandable that you have some processing to do.

Because while your friend has had years to come to this realization, you haven’t had much time to figure it all out.

That’s totally okay! Take some time, some space, and unpack those thoughts and feels.

However, the important thing to know is this: It is not your friend’s responsibility to help you sort out your feelings.

That is, while it’s perfectly understandable that you might be struggling with your friend’s transition, it’s not fair to unload that weight onto your friend.

Your friend already has a lot on their plate. A transition is a big step! And chances are, they’ve come out to a lot of people at once. They are likely not in a position to guide each individual person through the complicated feelings that they have about this transition.

Nor should they – during such an emotional time, it could be hurtful (and even traumatic!) to try to ease people into acceptance.

Your friend has asked for your support during a really challenging life event. It’s not an appropriate time to demand that they shoulder your emotional baggage when they are already carrying such an enormous weight!

Instead, seek out a support group, whether it’s online or offline. Look to other friends that you trust to help you process your feelings. Journal about what you might be thinking. Seek a creative or physical outlet that lets you release some of the stress you might be feeling.

This allows you to be in a better place to support your friend and ensures that you won’t be triggering your friend by saying something unintentionally hurtful as you try to process.

2. Do Your Homework

I’m going to sound like a broken record by now, because this is far and away the most frequent advice I give to allies of trans folks.

But it’s true! You gotta do your homework!

The Internet is a magical place, and there’s an enormous wealth of information out there on the transgender community. And if you’re looking to support your friend, it’s a great idea to do a little bit of research.

This takes your friend off the hot seat instead of forcing them to painstakingly educate you (and many others) on every little aspect of their experience.

This article is a great place to start, but there are many other places to go from here! GLAAD has an abundance of friendly resources to get you started on the basics. You can always poke around the transgender tag or non-binary tag here at Everyday Feminism, too.

And depending on how your friend identifies (maybe they’re neutrois, non-binary, or genderqueer!), there are so many fantastic blogs written by trans folks where you can get direct insight into the experience of being trans.

If you’re overwhelmed by the reading, you can always hop over to YouTube and let Ash Hardell (and fantastic special guests!) school you on everything gender, or check out Dr. Doe at Sexplanations as she chats about the social construction of gender in sailor attire (no, seriously, she’s dressed like a sailor).

You’ll have the benefit of deepening your knowledge of gender (how cool!), and your friend will appreciate that you took the time to learn.

3. Respect and Validate Their Identity

The worst thing you can do for your friend is invalidate their identity. When your friend comes out as transgender, it’s not your place to greet them with disbelief, amusement, contradiction, or a refusal to recognize their gender.

Regardless of how you perceived them in the past, it’s your responsibility to believe your friend when they come out – and affirm their sense of self.

For example, when I came out, a number of people told me they were having a difficult time believing me because I had worn dresses in the past and had seemed to enjoy femininity. They suggested that I was confused and should take more time to think about it.

When a trans person comes out to you, it isn’t your place to tell them how they should or shouldn’t identify. No one can know someone’s gender except for the person themselves. If they say they are non-binary, they are. If they say they are a woman, they are. If they say they are a man, guess what? They are.

This probably goes without saying, but support means using the name they have asked to be called, using the pronouns that they have requested, and tuning in when they share their experiences – without judgment, without contradiction, and without accusation.

Remember that appearances can’t tell you what someone’s gender is. Gender is not something you can necessarily see, although we sometimes choose to express our gender in a particular way. Gender is not a haircut, a way of dressing, a set of body parts, or a set of behaviors. Gender is a sense of self, an identity that is only for us to declare.

So please, don’t say things like “But are you really?” or “I don’t believe that” or “Those pronouns are too complicated.”

If you are having a hard time accepting someone as transgender, give yourself the space and time you need to get to a place where you can better support this person before attempting to give support.

4. Don’t Just Talk the Talk

Sometimes being supportive means showing the fuck up.

Being an ally is about more than just vocalizing your support. One really excellent and helpful way to show that you’re standing by your friend is to offer tangible, concrete support to make their transition a little bit easier and make our lives as trans people a little bit safer.

Do they have a doctor’s appointment or a surgery consultation? Offer to drive or hang out in the waiting room. Are they going to court to legally change their name? Bring them flowers and accompany them. Are they shopping for new clothes? Ask to tag along.

If your friend is using a public restroom but they’re afraid for their safety, offer to go with them. If they’re fearful of using public transportation, offer to ride with them or give them a ride. If they need to get home after a fun night out, offer to call them a reputable cab or walk them home. Because while the victims are never at fault, the reality is that transgender people are statistically more likely to be the victims of violence and assault.

And if your friend is experiencing body dysphoria, I’ve written an entire article on steps you can take to support them.

And of course, ask your friend if there’s anything you can do. Your friend may have something in mind that they won’t ask for unless prompted.

We are the experts on our own experience, so it’s best to check in with us before assuming our needs.

5. Be an Ally and Advocate (Without Overstepping)

Support can be personal, of course, and standing by your friend through their transition is a valuable and wonderful thing.

But in today’s world, being transgender is sadly not just a personal struggle. Often times, it’s political. There are difficult battles each and every day being fought over our right to exist, our right to be recognized, and our right to be safe.

Being a supportive friend can also mean being an ally – because creating change is one of the best ways to make your friend’s transition safer, easier, and more empowering.

“Whoa,” you might say. “That sounds serious. But where do I even start?”

Well, here’s a list of 52 things you can do for transgender equality. Yes, 52; so don’t tell me there’s nothing to be done! You can do one thing per week for a year, damn it.

Ultimately it means making sure you are politically engaged and aware when there are issues at stake for the trans community (hint: this means always).

It can be as simple as voting “yes” on local ordinances that will support the trans community or calling someone in when they say something problematic about trans people.

It can mean being involved at your local LGBTQIA+ center and canvassing for a trans cause or donating to a fantastic trans organization.

But it also means stepping out of the spotlight and allowing trans people to lead and tell their own stories.

You should amplify the voices of trans people – sharing their work, inviting them to conferences and universities, getting them involved wherever possible – rather than speaking over them.

There’s always more work to be done. And if you’re looking to support your friend who is trans, it’s time to make this world a better place for all trans people.

6. Learn to Take Criticism and Know How to Apologize

Even if you follow every bit of advice in this article, you will still make mistakes. And I want to remind you that making mistakes is okay, as long as you’re willing to receive criticism and apologize sincerely.

Remember that regardless of your intention, your impact is still important. You may not have meant to spill coffee on my shirt, but I imagine that if you did, you would still apologize and you would still try to help me clean things up. Because, you know, I’m assuming you’re a nice person.

You may mix up your friend’s pronouns by accident. You may say something insensitive, only to realize this later on. Even I, as a trans person, make mistakes with other trans people from time to time. We’re all learning. Every single one of us!

Just recently, a thoughtful friend and fellow Everyday Feminism writer, Adrian, explained to me that a word I was using was actually extremely harmful to trans women. Instead of getting all prickly and defensive about it, I had to remind myself that this was a great opportunity to do some growing and avoid hurting others in the future.

Even I make mistakes! What’s most important is to learn from those mistakes.

So how do you apologize?

When you misgender someone, it’s best to offer a quick apology, a correction, and let the conversation move forward. Nothing is more awkward than a person spending five minutes apologizing for misgendering you and completely redirecting the conversation. I shouldn’t feel like I have to console or comfort you after you’ve made a mistake, right?

When there’s a bigger hiccup – maybe you’ve said something offensive without realizing it – it’s good to know how to give a sincere apology. There’s an amazing video that breaks this down that is basically required viewing for anyone who aspires to be a decent human.

As the brilliant Franchesca Ramsey says in her video, “A real genuine apology is made up of two parts: the first part is you take responsibility for what you’ve done, and then the second part is you make a commitment to change the behavior.”

If you’ve said something that is hurtful to your friend, an apology can be the difference between a rift in your relationship and an opportunity for growth. Never underestimate the power of a sincere apology.

—-

Kyle

[ankyouweek]

This link we share - Part 1

((Big Bang submission, who turned… way bigger than I imagined, so I’m dividing it into 3 parts. A big thank you at blazardragon and nidaimeshinigami for putting up with me promising them I would send the second part soon and ended up forgetting for months… You guys rocks !) Rating: General Audiences Characters: Sugaya Sosuke, Mimura Kouki ; mentions of other characters Relationship: Sugaya/Mimura

At 14 year old, Sugaya had a very specific vision of who would he be in the future. He couldn’t have conceived another career than being an artist : it always have been such a great part of his life, the skill for which he sacrificed so much and yet also gave him so much in return. He was made to create. 

So, surely, his middle school self would be proud to see where his life was 10 years later. 

…Excluding the impending deadline for the exhibition that was currently making him pull yet another all-nighter, because somehow, he still hadn’t learned to organize his schedule properly.

It have been so easy, during art school, to work hour after hour closed in a studio to draw, paint and sculpt without batting an eye, yet nowadays the lack of proper sleep made it tough to concentrate, his mind drifting to kinder places -notably his sweet, comfortable bed - a double size, he didn’t even have to worry about all the junk he accumulated on it, he could just lay among the sketches and notes and… No, no, he had to work, he only had a few days to complete his canvas to send it for the selection…

Sugaya had always been a fast worker, so it originally shouldn’t have been a problem. He still remember that summer, on a assassination school trip in an Island, how he had been able to produce a decent enough scarecrow in a few minutes ; he probably wouldn’t be able to reproduce this now, his way of working under pressure being different. Nevertheless, having never stopped improving his abilities, he should have been able to produce something he could be proud of in the imparted delay.  Not sit still on the newspapers-covered floor mixing paint again and again to find a color he could finally be satisfied with.

…A break. He needed to take a break.

He stretched an instant, feeling sore in his back, before exiting the room he used as a workplace. Thanks to the money he kept from back when class E was rewarded for killing Korosensei, his art school expenses have been funded, and with a bit of help from his parents, plus some of his artwork selling relatively well, he have been able to buy a small apartment. In Tokyo, it wasn’t nothing ; he had been told to reconsider and wait a bit more to invest in an house, but he had wanted his independence quickly, finding the life alone more relaxing for his flexible schedule. 

As soon as he was in view, a small, oddly colored figure appeared on the screen of his cellphone, left to charge on a messy coffee table. 

“Good evening, Sugaya-san !” Ritsu never stopped using pronouns, even after all those years. “Mimura-san tried to join you some minutes ago - he’s on his way to drop off someone near there, he would like to stop here after that. -Hm ? Sure, tell him to come.”  He could see it was already night outside, but on early November, that didn’t mean much. “What hour it is ? -Twenty-two hours past seven.” The joyous voice answered.

Oh, he didn’t see the time pass. Because he snacked a lot and ate an early dinner to concentrate on his work, he have been able to progress quite a bit, but now he understood why his mind wanted a break so much.

…Wasn’t this day a Saturday ? Was Mimura working today ? He normally only worked on weekdays, since working in large groups necessitated a good organisation, but a team still had deadlines.

…Guh, deadlines. He should stop thinking about it for the moment. Having a friend coming would be a nice distraction - due to his different life rhythm, his social life was a mess. A bit like his living room, to be honest. He… He should try to clean a bit before Mimura come. He had to admit he was much less zealous about the state of his apartment than he was with his art supplies.

Some minutes later, a ringing sound interrupted Sugaya in the middle of a precious cleaning technique of his, that is to say to take all the papers left on the coffee table and put them in a corner where they wouldn’t be too visible. He hastily finished to go open the door. 

“Hello. -Ah… Good evening.”

The young man on the landing stared at him in that slightly hazy, disconcerted way proper to sleep deprived individuals.

“You look like you’re going to fall asleep as soon as you will close your eyes.” Sugaya noted. “Come in. -You might not be too far from reality with that one” admitted Mimura as he removed his shoes in the entrance. “Though you don’t look that fresh yourself. Another deadline ? -In three days, still missing two paintings. What about you ? -There’s a place we’re booking for filming and we needed it for a month, but we’ve been given only 3 weeks, so we’re shooting as much as possible for now. Everyone’s mood is a bit on the low side. -Sound tough.” 

When Mimura hanged his vest on the coat rack, Sugaya had an instant of pondering on how little the man changed physically since junior high. Seeing him irregularly after high school ended meant he have been able to notice how his face became little by little a bit more adult, but else it was just all the same, the haircut he couldn’t be bothered to change because it was the easiest to maintain, the simple clothes all in hues of dark green or brown with the shirt tucked in… Technically, the man did grow up too, and during high school the height difference between them diminished by half, but somehow Sugaya had yet another growth spout and they ended up with almost the same gap as before. 

“So, hm,” Mimura interrupted his thoughts, “it’s okay if I spend the night here ? I feel like I shouldn’t drive in that state… -Sure, I don’t mind. Ritsu talked about dropping someone near there, it’s for work too ? -Yes, some of the actors don’t have a driving licence and it’s faster to go take and drop them than making them use common transports. They need their sleep, too. -…Is that normal for you to do that ? -Hm ? Well, taking care of the actors is pretty much the third assistant’s job. It’s not like, you know, that time I told you when the set designer messed up.” He slumped into the couch. “I would really hate this job if I didn’t love it.” 

Sugaya nodded silently. In the first place, one couldn’t survive in an artistic career if they weren’t driven by their passion. No, even with passion… months of switching between unemployment and small, unsatisfactory jobs could wear down even the most tenacious motivation. By now, the two of them were in better situations ; he was starting to live from what he created and not commissions that ended disastrously due to his personality, and Mimura’s circle of acquaintances in the filmmaking world was growing, something, according to him, that was very important to get more jobs. But it would still take a long time before they would be in a truly comfortable situation.

 “Do you want something to drink ? I have beer and I can make tea.” He was almost tempted to suggest coffee. That probably wouldn’t even stop his friend from sleeping. “Hm… tea would be great, but there’s no need to make some just for me, water will be fi- -No, it’s okay, I was planning to make some for myself anyways.” While moving to the kitchen, Sugaya continued to talk, his voice a bit louder. “Doing a break before starting an all-nighter. By the way, you can use my bed instead of the couch if you want to, I���m probably not going to sleep tonight.”

Tea, tea… He really needed to go do some shopping… Oh, that’s right, there was this really nice tea Yada once gave him. ‘It’s important to have high-quality tea just in case, you never know when you will have important guests’. She… probably didn’t think of a case like this, but Mimura was an important friend and technically a guest, so…

“Is green tea alright ? I’m not sure I have anything else…”

Sugaya waited an instant, but he received no answer. 

“…Mimura ?”

He took a peek in the living room from the entrance of the kitchen, slightly frowning. But his face immediately softened looking at the deeply asleep man, a pillow tightly hugged in his arms.

“Guess you choose the couch after all.”

–

Maybe it was seeing his friend so exhausted that made Sugaya aware that, maybe, he shouldn’t wait to be this tired to go to sleep, especially since the little progress he made, he erased it a few minutes later. Maybe it was the idea of waking up around the same time as Mimura and sharing a meal together before returning on his work. Either way, after a few hours struggling over a blank canvas, he didn’t fight much for his eyelids to remain open and soon drifted to his bed.

Sadly, if he dreamt he didn’t remember it. No old memory, no meaningful vision that he would feel compelled to paint as soon as he woke up or anything convenient like that. He felt a bit cheated out compared to the main characters of Fuwa’s stories.

Yet, somehow, when he put himself in front of his palette while his friend was still soundly asleep in the living room, everything seemed clearer. Twirls of vibrant yellow under touches of pink. He could conceive it. A picture with an oddly familiar vibe. 

Quickly his fingers moved.

Sugaya was already starting to put little details on the rough forms when a figure moved in the corner of his field of vision.

“You can come in, I don’t mind the company. -Ah, thank you, I didn’t think you would notice me.” Mimura approached while talking. “You always seems so concentrated while you work, I would hate to interrupt you. Is… that tentacles you’re drawing ? -Yes, the idea came to me this morning.” Strong tentacles blossoming, full of life, among cherry petals. He liked the energy of it. “That’s inspired by this tanka poem Korosensei once wrote, isn’t it ? -I… Maybe ? I don’t really see what are you talking about. How do you even remember that ? -Easy, it’s in the guidebook.” Of course. He should have guessed it, what isn’t in that book ? “On the topic of ‘How to give a good impression during a conversation’, on the category of 'Poems and Quotes worth remembering’. Korosensei put this poem among popular works. -Yeah, that’s something he would have done.”

They both smiled remembering the octopus’s antics. It would have been painful, during their high school years, to have the presence of their beloved teacher so close to them, but still a shadow unable to replace the original. Now it only felt nostalgic. Nakamura have been the first to notice it : ‘Don’t you think that there are more jokes in the pages for the more mature subjects ? Like, the ones that would have mattered the most during our teenage years were more sober’. Did Korosensei thought of that, too, when he wrote those guides ? Did he predict how everything would unfold after his death, him who must have been familiar with it ? The more they grew up, the more the class E alumnus saw the actions of their former target in another light, gaining a new understanding of him.

Mimura stifled a yawn, bringing the artist out of his thoughts while his hands still moved on the painting.

“Not slept enough ? -Not quite, but I still feel far better than yesterday. Thank you for the night, by the way. -Don’t mention it, you needed it. How much time did you said you’ve been working like that ? Three weeks ? -Ah, no, that’s the time we got to rent a place, we’ve only been on it for one week. -…So you still have two weeks to go at that rhythm. -Unless we get at nasty surprise, yes.” Mimura used an almost fatalistic tone. “That’s the kind of things you should expect from this job. -…I’m glad to be an independent artist, then. -Hey, it’s not that bad. Sure, it’s exhausting, but you get to bond pretty closely with the crew. Sometimes it reminds me a bit of 3-E. -That much ?”

Those weren’t words that could be said thoughtlessly.

The link the class shared, it could hardly be described without experiencing it first. It wasn’t a matter of having spent lot of time together ; almost a year, even less for Ritsu and Itona. Since graduation, even if they tried to reunite now and them, those events weren’t a regularity. But the intensity of it - the warmth of finding a part of normalcy in this classroom, when both families and school turned their back to them, it brought them close. And the thrill and stress of assassination, it brought them closer. Running in the mountain, the feeling of recoil after firing, the weight of a knife, almost drowning in a vicious plan… A bond formed by killing intent, that’s how Korosensei mentioned it once. Sugaya couldn’t imagine forming such a tight relationship with someone else without living again those experiences.

“It’s… different, of course. Nobody can share what we experienced that year, but we have our lot of hardships when filming, too. And, well, it’s important having friends in the industry, too. Sometimes it’s how you get opportunities. -Oh, yeah, you already mentioned that. Is this that important ? I’ve been told the same thing about the art world, but I didn’t encounter many problems. -That’s because you’re too talented. Someone who can produce such a wide variety of art so fast, with a constant quality ? You’re pretty unique. -Haha, thanks. Well, I’m grateful for that, it’s already hard to stay in contact with everyone without having to make buddies here and there. -You’re just not willing to put the effort.”

Ah, here it came, that familiar acerbity Mimura only used against close ones. He might not be wrong, to be honest. Sugaya found maintaining contact with people to be pretty draining, but maybe he could get used to it if he tried a bit more.

Maybe.

“Speaking of friends.” Mimura continued. “ Will you be there for Isogai’s birthday party ? -…Maybe ? -…It’s next week. The 13th. -Oh. I guess ? I forgot it was coming up. Wasn’t there a birthday between his and mine ? -Okuda, yes, that was yesterday. Ritsu didn’t tell you ? -She doesn’t when I’m working hard. Crap, I will send her a message when I’m done. How come Isogai decided to make a birthday party, anyways ? He’s quieter than that usually. -Maehara insisted. Seems like they’re getting really closer after he broke up with Okano. -…He what ?” Sugaya turned his head away from his painting.

If there was a topic that have been talked over and over between the former students, it would be whether Okano and Maehara would end together.

A lot of it could be blamed on Korosensei. Or, really, just all of them being a bunch of gossiping sleazebags. The specific pair would have mattered little, as long as it would have directed everyone’s attention away from their own love stories, be they real or imagined by some teasing friends. Those two just happened to be the most entertaining.

Their personalities were tumultuous together, to the point it was hard to think they were attracted to each other, yet the two of them couldn’t help but pay attention to the other. When they seemed to make efforts toward a common understanding, some unfortunate incident would destroy everything. When it seemed to be over forever, somehow they got even closer. It was so ridiculous, almost everyone was kind of glad when they finally got together. Finally they could switch topics.

And yet they broke up ?!

“Come on, that was months ago, even you should know now. -I don’t, I really don’t.” Months ago… They haven’t been a couple for very long, in the end. “What did Maehara do for this ?” It had to be Maehara the problem. “As you can guess. Caught cheating. -…Okano really deserved better. -She did. For now she seems to spend lot of time with Kimura, but I’m not sure it’s… like that. Anyways, after this Maehara started to spend more time with Isogai. Well, more than usual, if that’s even possible. -So, basically they’re living together now ?” Mimura chuckled at the joke. “Not yet. I wouldn’t even be surprised if it’s the next step, but then, there’s the whole case with Itona too. -What about that ?” Sugaya knew he wanted to get independence from his father because their relationship was getting tough for him, was that linked ? “In a way. Don’t mention it in front of him, okay ? But he still have lot of issues living alone after… well, you know. Isogai suggested to him to come live with him, but since he still lives with his family… I guess he didn’t want to be a burden ? Anyways, he’s living with Terasaka for now. -Poor him. -Oh, he might complain a lot but I’m sure he’s enjoying it. -I was talking about Terasaka. -So was I. -Oh.” Sugaya went quiet an instant before asking. “Any other news I should be aware of ? Did Kanzaki and Sugino finally got together ? -No, I think no matter how much closed from the world you are, Sugino would make sure you know about that one. -Ha, true.” The baseball player had said so many times he got over it, yet he always seemed to fell back into his old crush at each sign of affection. “…It’s a bit sad, to be honest. -It’s scary. I’m glad I didn’t finish that way.”

As the conversation fell down, Sugaya concentrated back on his canvas.

He knew very well what that last sentence meant. Some years ago part of the boys reunited together over beer and talked about crushes of their past. It felt pretty weird to learn of Okajima’s old affections for Hayami in front of Chiba. And, of course, Mimura’s past infatuation for the former ‘Madonna of Class E’. 

At that time, Mimura already had gotten a girlfriend.

Not someone from the class. A very nice, sweet girl, from what he remembered. He even felt a bit sad to learn about their break-up, but that wasn’t a first. Didn’t Mimura was with someone in high school, too ? For most of his comrades he would get confused, but he was pretty sure he saw that one. He remembered that feeling that took him from seeing even his close friends all trying to get into new relationships and experiencing romance. Loneliness.

Maybe it was his fault for expecting everyone to stay as they were. He had a hard time keeping up with what everyone was doing, even people as close as his own sister ; unconsciously, he hoped things wouldn’t change too much, that nobody would drift too far from the family that was Class E, and that even if he spent most of his days alone, there would always be a friend willing to stay by his side. 

“…Hey. You know, if it’s too hard for you to drive so much when you’re tired, maybe you could stay here till you’re finished with your work. -…What ? -I just thought of it, with all those talk of who lives with with who. You drive less, we get to catch up and maybe do some things together… That would be nice, no ? -That… I don’t really want to intrude… Besides, I would come back really late, I would almost be never here… -You’re contradicting yourself. -…Am I ? Well. Uh. Personally, it would really help me, but… you’re sure you’re fine with that ? -In case you didn’t notice, I am the one who just asked. -Yes, but… You said that on impulse, right ? We need to speak about it. Over… I guess it’s too late for breakfast. Will you be finished soon ? -Almost. Counting the time to clean the brushes… Fifteen minutes ? -That seems quick.” Mimura frowned. “But then I shouldn’t be surprised anymore, coming from you. What do you say about eating outside ? -Fine by me.” He was used to it after all. He never have been one to cook much when he was by himself. “Any preference ? -Hmm, I think it would be better if you chose, you know the neighborhood better. -Alright, alright, just don’t complain if my choice doesn’t suit you.”

Sugaya took a break of an instant from painting to look more closely at his work, in search of the small details he wanted to add.

Funny. He didn’t remember last time he created a picture so lively.

[araneoluslegacy]

A New Face in the Labs

Just a short thing on when Baezil first transferred to the toxicology labs and met Isora.

______________________________________________________________

Baezil stepped up to the door of one of the toxicology laboratories within the lower levels of the Sanctum. He had a fresh haircut and a clean-shaven face. Determination filled him…as well as anxiety. Swallowing, he attempted to push the latter feelings down, and then held his new ID card out for the security panel to scan. A light gust of cool, sanitised air greeted him as the door slid open.

"Good morning," a voice said from inside. "You must be Dr Zib'aezi'lux?" The Chiss name was spoken crisply, which startled Baezil just a touch. He hadn't been aware that another one was working in these labs but decided it might make things easier.

"Ah— Y-Yes. Yes, that's me," Baezil said, cringing to himself as he caught his own nervous stutter. He stepped inside the lab proper and looked about, still not catching sight of the other apparent Chiss, who must have been just out of view. "How did you know?"

"Simple," the voice said. "I saw you on the security monitor." The other Chiss poked his head out of a smaller office within the lab, a light grin on his face. He seemed to briefly size Baezil up before approaching him. Baezil was six, maybe seven inches taller than him, and a few years younger. "I'm Dr Thi'sor'alann. You're very early if I may say so!"

"I didn't wish to be late, Doctor," Baezil said quietly.

"It's quite all right. And please, call me Isora. Everyone else here does." He caught the light frown on Baezil's face and smirked. "It may not be what you're accustomed to, Zib'aezi'lux, but it helps with clarity down here. That, and no-one else can quite say my full name down here." Isora paused again, smirking. "And with the two of us here, no one can call us 'blue guy' without causing a bit of confusion, don't you agree?"

Isora was, in Baezil's opinion, extremely casual. He wasn't entirely sure how to take it all in. "Ah— I understand…I think. You and the team are permitted to address me as Baezil."

"Baezil," Isora repeated. "Like the herb?"

"Yes."

"Good, good," Isora said, clasping his hand behind his back. "Since you are here so early, how about we take a seat in the office and have some caf? We can get to know each other a bit and I can assist you in fitting in with the rest of my little group here."

Baezil nodded in reply and then followed Isora into the small office, which had been turned into a bit of a break room. There was a caf machine, an electric tea kettle, a microwave, and a small conservator. Isora gestured towards one of the three chairs settled around a small, square table that was pushed against the wall. Baezil took a seat. Isora prepared them both a cup of caf, and then took the seat opposite him.

"I went over the files that were transferred to me. Your CV, summaries of your research papers," Isora said, switching to Csillan. By the intonations he used, he must have been from Sposia. Baezil was quietly impressed at just how well the other managed to mask his accent when speaking Basic, something he still felt he struggled with. "On one hand, I'm incredibly impressed and grateful that you were sent to work with us. You'll be a wonderful asset, truly. On the other hand, I'm curious as to why you were let go from your previous position. Was the medical field not to your liking?"

"It was," Baezil replied. Isora had a mischievous quality to him that he couldn't quite pinpoint.

"What happened, then?" Isora asked. He observed Baezil closely, which only made him tense up more. "The report said you had personal conflicts with your co-workers?"

"Is that all it says?"

"I wouldn't be asking otherwise."

Baezil wasn't sure whether or not to believe Isora, but he decided it better to answer his question. "I got into a physical confrontation with one of my co-workers. I apologised. I was much more emotionally compromised by a familial situation than I wished to believe." He pasued to sip his caf, no cream or sugar added just as he preferred it. "I assure you, Thi'sor'alann, that it won't happen here. I've fully recovered and am once again emotionally stable."

"Mm," Isora mused, "of course you are. And according to your research, you also seem to have an affinity for plants?"

"Botany," Baezil corrected.

"Of course. You know, that will be very useful here. Everyone has a strong skillset in different areas. Biology, chemistry, et cetera. I can give you projects more revelant to your interests." Isora rubbed his chin and smiled. "Perhaps, you'll be able to move somewhere more appropriate in a few years time."

"I would appreciate that, Isora. Thank you."

"You're very welcome," Isora said. He smiled again, and that mischievous quality showed once more. "May I ask a few…personal questions?"

"I may not answer if they're too personal."

"That's quite all right. I understand that perfectly." Isora took a sip of his own caf now that it had significantly cooled. "How long have you been in the Empire? I, myself have been here about ten years."

Baezil took a moment to calculate it. "About twenty-four years."

"Oh." There was touch of surprise in Isora's voice. "Do you have a family here with you?"

"I am married."

"Any children?"

"No," Baezil said. It was a well-rehearsed, well-intentioned lie.

"That's a shame," Isora said. "But you're young. You still have time, hmm?"

Baezil faltered, but only briefly. "My wife and I are focused on our careers at this point in our lives." Isora noted how sterile the word 'wife' sounded in the statement. Likely an arranged marriage, he noted, pitying the man before him.

"I have one last question," Isora said, a teasing tone entered his voice. "What was a handsome married man such as yourself doing sitting all alone in the Nexus Room with an entire oonberry pie to himself?"

"Ah—" Baezil felt himself visibly blush. He was sure that no one was watching him. Why would anyone watch him? "Are you married, Thi'sor'alann?" He hoped that a topic change would save him from embarrassment.

"No, no," Isora said, chuckling, "I'm not a family man. And don't worry, Zib'aezi'lux, we all have our guilty pleasures. You enjoy pies, while I prefer Twi'leks." Baezil stared at him. It was a lot of rather personal information and he wasn't sure how to process it.

What did he mean by Twi'leks in that context? Twi'lek pie? Twi'lek…meat? No, he wouldn't be consuming them. Or would he? Did he mean he enjoyed them in more intimate settings? Baezil narrowed his eyes and stared at his empty cup, really doing his best to piece it together. Too many obscure thoughts rushed around, trying to put some context to the phrase. Twi'leks. Pie. Twi'leks. Pie.

"Don't worry about it," Isora said, hoping to snap Baezil out of whatever trance he fell into. "It was just a joke. I'll choose my words more carefully next time."

[dezzy-137]

Sad and Struggling

I don’t normally do blog posts on this site, but i am struggling and need to get this out.

Amidst the backdrop of what is going on in this country, I am faced with a tough decision on whether to end my friendship with my best friend, who I will refer to as A. 

I met A about 13 years ago when we both worked for the same company and I was essentially his assistant at a popular freight carrier. We are now and have always been very different people, and often we would remark at how our friendship “shouldn’t make sense.” It just did. He is an older white, straight, cis man who is married, has 4 kids, and his life and responsibilities are completely different than mine. I am a little younger than him, Hispanic, queer, female, and single with no children. What started out as a funny dynamic at work where we bonded over music and made silly jokes, turned into a deep friendship. Him and his wife have a great trusting marriage (which is excedingly rare) and she was cool with us going to bars and clubs (mostly gay ones) to dance and have a few drinks. In turn, our friendship deepened, and his wife M, and I have become really close, along with their grown daughters who have turned to me for support, kind of like a quirky Aunt. this has been a fulfilling friendship and their family as a whole has gotten me through some rough times in my life. I consider them to be like my chosen family.

This all began to deteriorate over the last 4 or 5 years. I can’t quite pinpoint the turning point or exactly the beginning, but I feel like we began to decline as A struggled with being in a high paying but physically and emotionally demanding job. I’ve seen him withdraw and really not reach out to me or us hang out like we normally did. He began to depend on alcohol a lot, and no matter what I did, it just wasn’t the same as before. He would say certain things like “i know I’m not being a good friend. . .” This would be frustrating because on one hand, I would be sympathetic that he is unhappy and struggling, but on the other hand, he would make no moves to improve our friendship. 

during this time, I began to spend more time with his wife M. She is kind of the antithesis to her husbands personality. While A, has always enjoyed being a lovable asshole, M is kind, loving, and mild mannered. She had a fairly traumatic childhood, to the point where I am in awe that she remained so tender and lion hearted after everything she’s been through. She’s been a true ally. 

This all culminated when Trump was elected. . . . 

I have very strong political stances, I like to be politically aware and up to date on what is going on in my country. For the record, I despise Trump. He is everything wrong in this country. To quote a well known activist in the Black Lives Matter movement, “this country is on fire, and Trump that lit the match. “ I don’t believe has done anything good for this country. NOT ONE THING. I believe he is a rapist, racist, misogynist, xenophobic piece of shit. There is a laundry list of his misdeeds, hypocrisy, lies, and in the midst of this pandemic he is inciting violence in this country. There is no ambiguity about this in my point of view. 

to be fair, I have never been one to thrust my beliefs on someone else. As I wouldn’t want anyone to do that to me. I have several friends, where we don’t exactly align or we just believe in different things. Some of that just doesn’t affect me or i have to let them do their own thing. 

A has always been fairly liberal, at least out loud. He has high standards of the people around him, but thought he has a “live and let live” mentality. I knew he didn’t really like Obama, but was under the impression from the small conversations we had at the time, that his stance had to do with healthcare. 

I never would have imagined that i would find out that A voted for Trump. I couldn’t understand, why in the world he would vote for him. He had a staunch position on Hillary, and he pulled the whole “but her emails!” It just seemed so far in the other direction, especially since he has 4 daughters and a progressive wife that he would pick a person who is openly misogynistic as well as a sexual predator. Not to mention his stances on race, and an economy that has effected him and his family’s finances. 

i was convinced by a mutual friend that you just gotta let him believe what he’s going to believe, and for a long time I let it go. I felt like I knew this guy. We’ve cried, laughed, shared many meals and deep personal secrets. We’ve been intensely vulnerable with each other, and I felt like he’s a good man, husband, and father. We will just not discuss politics. 

Cue to a few years ago, when there was the beginning of the Me Too Movement. I feel strongly about this as I have been a victim of sexual abuse, harrassment, and have been touched without my consent. I have told him this story and he’s also been witness to his wife’s story, who has been through the same thing. I posted my story onto Facebook, and imagine my shock and hurt when he made a joke about it. I called him out on it, and he apologized, but it’s something that stuck with me. I forgave but never forgot.

A few weeks ago, before the protests, we got into another online fight when I posted something about the people who are protesting the lock downs. You see the videos of these privileged people who want haircuts and to go to bars and restaurants, and I am appalled at their stupidity, lack of medical knowledge, and overall ignorance. Not to mention the white privilege of those who stormed capital buildings with assault weapons and blocked entrance to hospitals. 

Once again, I was blindsided when A stood up for them and said it wouldn’t save us and that he thought the mask thing was stupid. It’s not that serious and he resents having to be told to wear one for his job. I went off on him, and told him that i thought he was being ridiculous when so many people are dying and his illustrious president let this happen. It was so heated, that i thought that it was the end of our friendship. I was so frustrated that this person who I thought I knew so well, was literally one of those people you see in videos coughing in people’s faces and saying its all a hoax and that we are sheep. 

I didn’t reach out to him and figured that was that. My friendship with M seemed to be intact, and even though I remained hurt, I needed to move forward. 

Yesterday, A texted me and told me he missed me. This struck me dumb, since we left our previous argument unresolved and he was acting like it never happened. I was reluctant but tried to have some perspective and tried to forgive him. 

Then today . . .I posted on FB about Trumps call for military intervening in the protests. We have all seen the countless videos, posts, and such about the brutality that the police and national guard are committing against peaceful protests. It’s there in full view and if you cannot not see that, its hard to make sense of how you can be on the other side of this. He condemned my views, and praised Trump. This enraged me. I told him he needed to educate himself and learn who the real criminals are. He told me, I’ll believe what I believe and vice versa. Dismissive. 

i was shaking and my blood was boiling, not to mention that I felt like my heart was breaking as I saw this man who I love dearly and he’s spouting this. How do I reconcile this person in comparison to these abhorrent beliefs. Am I perpetuating this judgement by wanting to end our friendship because we don’t believe the same thing? Am I ending/complicating my friendship/relationship with M and their family by ending my friendship with him? Is this the kind of woman I want to be who has strong beliefs, but doesn’t have the courage to back them up by continuing my friendship with someone who’s values are diametrically opposed to mine? I think Trump is banking on the dividing this country, and am I falling into this paradigm because this is dividing someone who I have considered like my brother?

I always want my heart to be ready to do the right thing? i can’t be blind to the injustices that I am seeing everyday. These directly effect me, my family, people I love. This country, my future, the future of this world. 

What do I do?

[s3venpounds]

1-64. 65 What is the worst thing you have ever done to a friend?

65 questionsssssssssss yeeeeeeeeee boiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii letsss fucking goooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo thanks for the ask btw! also sorry for late reply

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?

honestly sometimes, the whole “ life is a simulation” got me kinda scared ya never know

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you?

1. because im not afraid of the dark im afraid of what can be in it that im not aware of

3. The person you would never want to meet?

idk. cuz if i say someone i hate then i can’t physically meet them to punch them

4. What is your favorite word?

love

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?

idk whichever lives for millions of years i wanna be like those giant ass trees that you see in animes that are like whole cities wide

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought?

should i finally cut my hair? or do i perservere

7. What shirt are you wearing?

my ed sheeran concert shirt

8. What do you label yourself as?

someone with the capacity of good but chooses to be an asshole

9. Bright room or dark room?

bright room

10. What were you doing at midnight last night?

seeing if my new friends were playing games so i can join

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far?

21

12. Who told you they loved you last?

off the top of my head? my mom pretty sure. 

13. Your worst enemy?

myself, my fears, hesitation and past mistakes?

14. What is your current desktop picture?

its a picture of hinata shoyo from Haikyuu!! doing a spike with wings on his back!

15. Do you like someone?

yes.

16. The last song you listened to?

Jacob Lee Slip

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?

trump

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?

trump. and i want like brass knuckles when i punch. 

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do?

probably a volleyball coach/ trainer or a professional volleyball player to just drill basics into me and make me a better player. (that or just gal gadot to like help me clean up my life and give me life advice)

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)

i guess my energy? its a fucking mess though cuz sometimes i get tired after like 4 minutes of activity but then sometimes i get like a second wind and i just go for hours 

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?

i mean there was that snapchat trend of every guy making a female version of themselves so i guess theres that. i would definitely try anything i could. periods, cramps, catcalls, masturbating anything i could so i truly understand what women have to go through every day of their lives

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?

im a very open person so most of my obscure talents are known but i am kinda proud of how i can name pokemon by just hearing their cries limited to like the first 3 generations tho lmao

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?

what happens after we die

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.

i wanna make the most bougie sandwich in the world. I want abelone, puffin, black truffle, caviar, just all that super high end shit

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?

save it. im going on a trip somewhere out of the city and i could use the extra pocket money

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?

venice italy. no question.

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be?

oh shit booze! i love me some booze! i guess it would have to be like smirnoff kissed caramel vodka, or this one whiskey i saw a video of irish people drinking american whiskeys

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place? 

dont be a fucking dickhead idk. i can’t make concrete rules cuz theres loopholes

29. What is your favorite expletive?

definitely fuck just because i say it more than actual normal words

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?

haha “loved ones” lmao. oh uhhh my letters from D.O when we were kids. that or my journal

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

my dads abuse. oh wait no then thats free forgiveness for him lmao no uhhh one of my past relationships. it was a mess and i still struggle a little with it

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world!

Venice italy. that or greece or rome idk. i really like their aesthetic with small white houses, small walkways and all that

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?

Steve irwin or Robin williams. or just to make a couple people near me happy, Kyle Fundytus

34. What was your last dream about?

uhhh I kissed the person I’m currently interested in. not just a normal dream too I felt everything. it was crazy. Felt, their hands, warmth, lips, body against mine and even their skin it was just magical.

35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]?

boyfriend? honestly? idk. i’d like to think that i am but from what I know apparently im not

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?

yes and no? i guess? i had one of those shots you give to enfants when their family is moving to a new country and i still have the scar so possibly? i mean technically any baby born in a hospital has been admitted to one lmao

37. Have you ever built a snowman?

YES AND SOME OLDER KIDS BROKE IT DOWN AND USED IT AS A BENCH . I fought them and got sent tot he principals office

38. What is the color of your socks?

im not wearing any.... but i do have a favourite pair of green ones that have a print of pringles sour cream n onion on it!

39. What type of music do you like?

Jazz, big band, kpop, RNB, rap, rock, swing music, electro...? sort of?

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?

i can’t choose, I love both and have fond memories of both

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor?

Vanilaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa maybe some caramel in it

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer)

uhh i dont know much about football but i can say i would support my local team edmonton eskimos

43. Do you have any scars?

a ton! i love em! its like the sentimental stuff i keep in my closet but on my body and i always trace my finger over them whenever im just in the mood to reminisce

44. What do you want to be when you graduate?

im not currently taking the courses i need to get my dream job but i’d love to be a power ranger either the stunt double or the cheesy actor. that or a school councilor

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

how dependant i am on others. i hate it. if i was alone i dont think i’d survive. i need other people

46. Are you reliable?

I like to think that i am though again, you’d have to ask my friends

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?

Did you find her?

48. Do you hold grudges?

hell.yes. if you couldnt tell i reallllllllllly hate my dad. like really.

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?

whatever animals it takes to make dragons a thing again

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had?

I would have to say when this random stranger came up to me to complain about the transit system because the one in vancouver was so much better apparently. dude went on a 20 minute rant and i just drowned him out with music and pretended to “pause” my music while nodding like i understood

51. Are you a good liar?

not sure. I think i am considering my parents dont know half the shit i did AHEHEHEHE

52. How long could you go without talking?

couple days. long as i got my music.

53. What has been you worst haircut/style?

god there was this one christmas where my parents gave me like a stereotypical suburban kid hair cut where the whole head is like flattened with hair gel the at the forehead its just a tall wall of spiked hair. BUT HERES THE KICKER. they dyed half the wall red and half green for christmas. god it was awful

54. Have you ever baked your own cake?

does cheesecake cupcakes count?

55. Can you do any accents other than your own?

ive been told i can do a good russian one, chinese too

56. What do you like on your toast?

nutella omg. fresh toast with gooey nutella? god its so good

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?

uhmmm some secret stuff for a friends personal project

58. What would be you dream car?

Dodge Viper

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.

I love singing in the shower when no ones home. I can only sing when no ones home cuz the walls in this house are thin AS FUCK. 

60. Do you believe in aliens?

i believe we’re not the only ones out here but due to how we’re literally killing our own kind and planet for no good reason they choose to ignore us

61. Do you often read your horoscope?

yep! all the time! whenever i get my hands on the local paper i read my horoscope while i wait on the train or if theres a horoscope thing on tumblr!

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?

X idk x is just cool

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?

dragons are you kidding me? dragons are dinosaurs that can fly. AND BREATHE FIRE

64. What do you think about babies?

I dont think im a good father figure but spending time with kids is a pretty okay time for me long as its not long term lmao 

65. Freebie! Ask anything interesting you can think of.

What is the worst thing you have ever done to a friend?

I punched them full force in the stomach for calling me emo. it was a bad day but lo and behold that person became my best friend loooooooooooool

[electricbluetimemachine]

7th June

The battle is now one year old.

Sometimes it’s okay. Sometimes it’s like a punch right in your throat in the middle of the day. Or a gust of wind from nowhere brings back the scent of an orange post surgery paste = the smell of her illness.

Sometimes I’m totally fine. Sometimes I’m choking on my own laughter, not entirely sure that I should be able to laugh if she’s not around anymore.

The memory of me sitting in the bath, holding a shower head and realising that she is definitely dying. Opening the doors of our home and howling. Howling with pain that she will never come back to this place alive again.

Realising that there will be at least two more very horrible days ahead of us. The one they will tell us it’s all over and the day of the funeral. After it will be only better even though it will be the worst.

Why those days felt like taken out of a movie? The one you don’t really want to watch as you know too well it will make you feel really sad. Your every movement feels like it is out of your control, out of your body. It is not your reflection in the mirror with your terrified eyes staring back. Those are not your hands washing her teeth in the sink. It is not you holding a pink see-through hospital bag with all her belongings.

Time of seeing her signature for the first time since she died, those happy looking letters which I have seen some many times - as notes left on the fridge, letters to London, dedications in books - now they’re on her life insurance papers. Staring at me.

Smelling her clothes. Her every belonging became something sacred. I am wearing her belt. I have her perfumes, I don’t want ever to finish those two bottles.

Some people told me that I am strong and I didn’t really believe them, not sure if I do now.

I have learned that being strong means asking for help and opening up that you had a bad day without feeling guilty that people might not be ready for your breakdown.

Being strong is not being a whole piece at all times, but keep on falling apart and keep on putting yourself back together over and over again.

I miss her everyday. I dream about her often. I dream that I found the way, that we figured out in time what was wrong and we could fix it. Once I dreamt that something went wrong with the cremation and we will have to do it again. I dream about her on my wedding day, it doesn’t matter who am I marrying - what is important that she will be there helping me to get ready.

I dream about us hanging out together. I dream about her stroking my hair just like she used to, I would mess up my hair only to make it as long as possible. Sometimes in the morning I recall her voice in my head when she was waking me up.

I want to call her everyday.

That day a couple months into the grief when suddenly in the middle of the day I was making plan to go for a haircut and realised not only that she will never get another one, but that I was the very last person to wash her hair. I cried so hard that I couldn’t breathe. I run home from work and people on the tube were asking me if I am okay and random people were giving me hugs.

Through the first few months I cried so much that my tears didn’t have much salt in them left, but it is good to cry. Do not hold it in.

That was ( and sometimes still is) an another part - crying on the public transport. As soon you do it once, you are not embarrassed or scared to do it.

Just happens sometimes. Especially in the beginning I wasn’t even able to stand in that certain spot on the platform at White City, sometimes I was actually struggling to get on the train. Like just get on, sit down and go back home. Doing it was like agreeing to ‘ move on’ with your life and just keep on going. I didn’t want to ‘ keep on going’. I wanted for entire world just to fucking stop, not move anywhere. I was petrified.

I was angry. I was so angry. Like unbelievably fucking annoyed with the world. No, I didn’t blame God for taking my mum. Nothing like that. I was angry that my grandma who’s 94 years old and never really liked me is still alive while my mum died being only 59. That kind of angry. Not-a-nice-human angry way.

I had some much aggression within me that I have no idea what to do with. I wanted to scream as loud as possible. I wanted to punch walls. I wanted to destroy things.

Even a few months ago I had an ‘ anger attack’. I put my boxing gloves on and I was punching the wall scared but also happy that I could break my wrists. I took a plastic box and I was throwing it at the window. Louder was the sound and more that tupperware was destroyed better I felt.

When I started going to kickboxing classes every single time I stood in a front of a punch bag I was imagining that this is this invisible creature named ‘ Cancer’ and that I can finally punch and destroy it.

It helped. It really did.

If you know me well you’re aware that I’m not really a ‘ sporty type’. Come on, I broke my left arm at PE classes age 16 at little obstacle round. In a front of entire school seeing my arm being bended in a very weird way. Or that time when a basketball landed right on my nose - hence its current view. As the doctor said then ‘ you’re still growing. It will look okay’. I don’t really think it does, but it’s part of my face’s character now for good.

September last year I couldn’t even put two boxing gloves on, I didn’t know how to tight the belt around my waist, I couldn’t do one press up.

Now, I’m about to grade for my fifth belt. Red with a white stripe. Maybe sometimes I’m getting lost with ‘ front kick, roundhouse kick, front punch, reverse punch, front kick, slide back’ stuff. Maybe I need to work on my spinning kicks, but damn how do I enjoy sweating and not being able to catch my breath while doing another press up or punching with all my heart so hard that I feel I will pass out. Physical exercise is really very important part of taking care of your mental health.

Apart from being really angry I was also struggling with eating. Obviously when everything was going on nothing, literally nothing had any taste. After coming back from hospital my sister was preparing food for us. It could be anything, I didn’t feel any taste. I might as well eat some paper. I was hungry, but it was really just mechanical thing.

After coming back to London I felt an actual exhaustion of having to organise for myself three meals a day. It was a huge problem. It meant making multiply decisions, it meant an effort to go to the shop and buy it, it meant cooking it. I didn’t see a point in any of it.

I started with just making some comfort food. Yes, lots of pasta and tomato sauce was involved. Slowly taste of things started coming back.

You know that ‘ Someone Great’ by LCD Soundsystem lyrics ‘ The coffee isn’t even bitter Because what’s the difference’? That is exactly how it felt. What is the actual difference? The world doesn’t care that there is one wonderful human less on this planet. Even the taste of the coffee haven’t changed. For me the world just ended. Everything what happened since 7th June 2017 is After The World Ended. It’s Life Version 2.0.

I even have a playlist called ‘ after the world ended’. Which brings me to another crucial point - music. I can’t breathe without music. Overstatement? I don’t care what you think. It was always the very first thing in the morning to switch the radio on and very last thing to do before going to sleep. My entire life. Music in my home was everything. It was our fun, our background, our joy and even our hope.

On Fridays me and my mum would do grocery shopping and remembered ‘ Murder on the Dancefloor’ playing on the speakers when I was pretending to be a little kid and riding in the shopping basket. It was doing homework and helping with some chores with Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin or Queen bursting out of the speakers. It was New Years eves with my dad setting up that Pink Floyd’s song with all the clocks for the first strike of the midnight. It was me doing silly dancing to to Whole Lotta Love or Wake Me Up Before You Go Go or Dirty Dancing soundtrack. It was us watching ‘ Christiane F. diary’ aged 13 and hearing for the first time David Bowie. It was my teenage obsession with UK MTV 2 Rocks - and falling in love with Yeah Yeah Yeahs, The Strokes, Muse, Arctic Monkeys and so on. And boy, how I was dreaming about being in the country where everyone actually knows those bands and it’s obsessed with them as much as I am. Making silly posters with cut outs of Nirvana members, Muse and The Strokes.

Music helped me massively. It helps me everyday. I’m very, very grateful and happy that I got this music taste running in my blood. More importantly that I have so many songs that like little time machines bringing me back those to the moments when me and my mum were together. Memories tokens I can take everywhere with me.

After the funeral at the little gathering we were playing some music. I made the playlist. Playlist out of all our favourite tunes. My sister and me didn’t care if someone will think it’s inappropriate to play some of the tracks. We couldn’t fucking care less. It was playlist for her. Do you know what was the very first track? ‘ Europa (Earth’s Cry Heaven’s Smile’) by Santana of course. I swear I was listening to this song when still safe right underneath my mum’s heart in a womb. I don’t think I realised what is this title about until we actually played it then.

It was hard to get up every morning. Sleeping was the only time when you are not fully aware of the pain. I remember walking the tube corridor at Oxford Circus to get to the Central line and seeing all the people rushing and I wanted to scream to them ‘ there is no point of any of this! We are all gonna die! ‘. I remember looking around while sitting on the tube and imaging that everyone around me is dead. I was wondering who will be in a coffin and who will be in an urn. There were no faces anymore, just urns and coffins sitting next to me.

It wasn’t like a sudden realisation - ‘oh no wait Olga there is a point to all of it’. It was tiny parts of my soul screaming, it was laughing with my workfriends, it was dancing till the dawn, it was reading her cards and text messages knowing she will always want for me to enjoy my life to the fullest. It was keep on making plans.

Writing was and still is a major part of me going through it. Sometimes it was only ‘ I cried on the tube today’ or ‘ I haven’t cried today just yet’. Sometimes it was accidental poems, sometimes it was letters to her. Sometimes it was just me trying to gather my thoughts or to say how fucking amazing it is to have friends who can catch you when you fall. Or rather when you keep on falling.

They are there when in the middle of Friday drinks I start crying, there were there for me when I was scared of first Christmas without her, they were there cooking a dinner, they are there on whatsapp crying with laughter video calls , they are there to respond to ‘ shit day alert’, they are there to dance away at LCD Soundsytem gig.

They are there with their words, hugs and time  - spreading metaphorical safety net underneath my feet. They are there for all my random craziness and chats about everything. It is okay to be a mess.

My friends weren’t afraid to talk to me when I was scared to spread this black shadow of grief, it didn’t freak them out.

I wouldn’t be able to go through all of it without my sister. Oh yes, you are ready for a soppy moment ‘ I’m so lucky to have her. We were always so close’ No, we weren’t. We had our moments when we didn’t talk for months while living in the same city. Now miles apart and waking up in a two different countries we were never so close and so honest with each other. We both learned to listen and to ask questions. We are now a team. Very strong team. I am proud of her and proud of her being such an amazing mum of wonderful twins and handling everything by herself. I have learned so much about womanhood, sisterhood and motherhood in the last year. More than I thought I ever will. More than I wanted to be perfectly honest.

During this year I have also perfected ‘ sliding down to the floor’ movement. Done so, so many times at various places including toilet at work when everything was just a bit too much to handle and there was no will left to make the next step.

Maybe you can see me everyday full of joy and laughter and maybe you think it is all okay. Sometimes it is not and i’m crumbling like a cookie  - squashed, falling apart into a million pieces. What I do every single day is putting myself together. Over and over and over and just getting on with it and having the best time i can possibly have.

Losing a parent or someone extremely close to you, someone who’s death you were terrified of since you realised what death is, the person who was literally everything to you and was ALWAYS with you - it is like losing your own skin. Like i feel like the layer of it was taken and it will be never ever replaced.

I did looked up for some help. I was trying to get counselling - ended up with one very teary phone call. I couldn’t take them keep on asking me ‘ and how do you feel about it’ over and over again. Or just saying ‘ sounds like you have a plan’, ‘ just keep on writing’. I think I was just too scared to fall apart in front of someone I don’t know and take a layer off from my armour of strength.

Instead I wanted for someone to just take me and hold me, stroke my hair and say it will be okay somehow. 

I totally understood why my sister got a dog straight after. Like seriously a week or two after. Lucky her - she has twins too.

I wanted a dog. I wanted twins. I wanted LOVE. It was like:

‘LOVE. NOW. PLEASE. LOVE so I can take care of something, someone, anyone. ‘ Glad to be past that point.

I have read somewhere that living after losing your parent could be compared to a tree growing over an obstacle - you never forget about it, you just learning how to live with it.

I like to compare all of it to swimming in the ocean, very deep ocean. Sometimes I manage to forget how deep it is, how I am actually by myself in London, trying to take care of everything, how I won’t find her anywhere and that sometimes life is unfair and I can’t call her to tell her about my day, my problems and she won’t give me an advice like only she could because no one knows me as she did and no one loves me the way she did. It will be different, but it will be okay and I am just keep on swimming. Left hand, breathe, right hand, breathe.

I think she would be proud of us - her two girls. Thanks to her we are made out of iron of love.

Dziękuję Mamu. Kocham Cie mocno.