#i'm resenting the work of my peers and my own content

[myhyperfixatedmess]

Serpentine.

Tom is certain of many things, including the fact that he absolutely hates your guts.

Word count: 2.4k

Content warning: None that I'm aware of.

[This is my first time ever writing anything like this so I apologize if it's not very good, also Tom might be a bit ooc. I'm not entirely sure.]

Tom seethed with anger as his gaze fixated on you. The mere sight of you sent a surge of resentment coursing through his veins. Among his classmates, you were hailed as the epitome of perfection, and that only fueled his disdain. He detested the carefree way you danced, as if the world around you didn't matter, oblivious to anyone who dared to watch. Your smile, so radiant and seemingly untainted by pain, infuriated him. It was a constant reminder of his own hidden struggles. The way you effortlessly attracted attention, drawing others toward you like moths to a flame, further fueled his animosity. But what he despised the most was how effortlessly you had captured his attention, enough to evoke such intense hatred. The fact that he found himself fixating on you, scrutinizing every aspect he found insufferable, was a constant source of frustration.

Lost in his bitter thoughts, Tom was abruptly interrupted by Malfoy's voice, snapping him back to reality. Confused by the sudden attention, Tom's narrowed eyes shifted towards his classmates, who stared at him inquisitively. Avery, his mouth full, pointed in your direction, making it clear that Tom had been gazing at you for an uncomfortably long time. Annoyed with himself for being so distracted, Tom dismissed their concerns with a curt response, willing them to remain silent. The skeptical glances exchanged by his peers, however, indicated their doubt in his dismissive words.

Tom's loathing for you only grew stronger, especially as he observed you in the common room. Your infectious laughter, the soft waves of your hair framing your face, it all served as a constant reminder of his unwanted attraction. Grinding his teeth in frustration, he averted his gaze, disgusted with how easily you managed to capture his attention time and time again. Determined to ignore you, he resolved to focus solely on his ambitions, leaving you to your own devices. But even as he made this resolution, he couldn't resist stealing another glimpse in your direction.

Fate had a cruel sense of humor, as Tom found himself in your presence once more during Potions class. Professor Slughorn, in a particularly peculiar moment, decided to pair Tom and you together for an assignment. Suppressing his distaste, Tom watched with growing irritation as you approached him, wearing an infuriating smile and settling down beside him.

As you organized your materials, Tom yearned for the opportunity to work on the potion alone. It wasn't that he thought you incapable—quite the opposite. He was well aware of your exceptional brilliance, and that knowledge only fueled his resentment towards you. Handing him some ingredients with that same disarming smile, you provoked another surge of animosity within him. Tom wasn't foolish; he recognized that his hatred may have been unfounded. He was even mindful enough to admit that maybe he was unjust in his loathing. Yet, as you absentmindedly brushed against him, his anger intensified, the burning in his chest escalating to a blazing inferno. He stared ahead, refusing to acknowledge your presence, while inwardly seething.

Your gentleness was like salt on an open wound, an unwelcome contrast to his own inner turmoil. He couldn't stand the kind smiles you directed his way or the softness in your voice when you spoke to him. Unsure if you treated everyone with such tenderness, Tom hated every ounce of it.

And even now, as he silently directed daggers towards the side of your head, you remained unaffected. That ever-present smile adorned your face as you attentively listened to the professor. Perhaps you hadn't noticed his seething resentment, or maybe you simply didn't care.

Tom truly despised you.

-

Despite Tom's best efforts to bury his loathing and distance himself from you, fate seemed determined to test his resolve. The universe conspired to place you in his path, unrelenting in its mission to fuel his inner turmoil.

Days turned into weeks, and Tom found himself encountering you more frequently than he would have preferred. Your presence in the corridors, the library, and even in the Great Hall became impossible to ignore. Each time, his resentment swelled, festering like a wound that refused to heal.

It was during Defense Against the Dark Arts class that a peculiar incident occurred. The professor, caught up in an animated discussion with another student, accidentally assigned you as Tom's partner for a practical exercise. Tom's heart sank as the realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. This forced collaboration would inevitably tear down the walls he had so meticulously built around his feelings.

Reluctantly, you approached him, that ever-present smile adorning your face as if it were a permanent fixture. Tom's blood boiled beneath his calm facade, his grip on his wand tightening as you settled in beside him. The instructions were given, and as you prepared for the exercise, you turned to him with genuine warmth in your eyes.

"I believe we can work well together, Tom," you said, your voice soft and encouraging. "Let's make the most of this opportunity."

Your words were meant to foster cooperation, but to Tom, they were like nails on a chalkboard. He wasn't fond of your unrelenting insistence to call everyone, even him, by their first name. He detested the way you effortlessly extended an olive branch, offering a glimpse of the goodness that resided within you. His own walls, built on bitterness and resentment, grew higher in response.

As the exercise progressed, you displayed a remarkable talent and unwavering focus. Your skills complemented Tom's own abilities, leading to a seamless collaboration that drew the professor's attention. You seemed unfazed by Tom's icy demeanor, treating him with a kindness he felt he did not deserve.

But beneath his icy exterior, Tom's emotions churned like a tempestuous sea. He couldn't comprehend why you insisted on being pleasant, even as he pushed you away with his cold indifference. It was maddening to witness your genuine care and empathy, qualities he struggled to understand, let alone reciprocate.

As the days went on, a part of Tom's hardened facade began to crack. He found himself observing you from a distance, catching glimpses of your interactions with others. Your infectious laughter, the way you lent a helping hand without hesitation, and the ease with which you forged connections—these traits only deepened his confusion and resentment.

Tom loathed the fact that you evoked a sense of admiration within him, despite his best efforts to resist. He hated how your mere presence had the power to make him question his own beliefs, to reevaluate the walls he had erected around his heart. And most of all, he despised how your kindness seemed to seep into the depths of his soul, stirring emotions he had long buried.

But as he watched you navigate through the complexities of life with grace and compassion, a whisper of doubt began to emerge within him. Could it be possible that his hatred stemmed from envy? Envy for the light that radiated from you effortlessly, while darkness consumed him from within.

As the war between his loathing and burgeoning curiosity raged on, Tom found himself at a crossroads. Would he succumb to the bitterness that had become his shield, or would he dare to explore the mysteries that lay beneath the surface?

Tom wasn't sure, he wasn't sure whether to embrace the light that threatened to illuminate his shadows or to retreat further into the darkness he had come to know so well.

-

In the midst of another Potions class, you took your usual seat next to Tom. As you settled in, Tom did his best to ignore your presence, casting only a fleeting glance in your direction to acknowledge your arrival.

During a break from Professor Slughorn's lecture, you turned towards Tom, your voice barely above a whisper as you spoke.

"Hey, can you fill me in on what Professor said about the effects of Boomslang skin on a potion? I seem to have missed that part," you asked, your eyes fixed on his. Tom felt a sudden stiffness in his body, his mouth drying up as he struggled to maintain his composure. Though he yearned to brush you off and but he couldn't risk his carefully constructed reputation, he knew he couldn't afford to dismiss you so callously.

Resolute in upholding his image as a model student, Tom nodded and glanced back at his own notes.

"Here," he offered, sliding his notes towards you and pointing out the relevant paragraph with his quill. A genuine smile spread across your face as you expressed your gratitude, causing a flutter of unfamiliar emotions within Tom. He simply nodded in response and watched as you diligently copied the information onto your own parchment.

Tom couldn't understand why it was becoming increasingly challenging to maintain his hatred for you. He had built a part of his identity around loathing your very existence—your face, your smile, your gentle voice. Yet, the more he focused on you, the harder it became to justify his animosity.

A growing sense of unease settled within him. Something was undeniably wrong.

The week marched on and everything turned into a whirlwind of conflicting emotions for Tom. He found himself stealing glances at you when he believed no one was looking, analyzing the subtle curves of your face and the way your eyes lit up when engaged in conversation. Your infectious laughter echoed in his ears, tugging at a corner of his heart that he had kept hidden for far too long.

Tom wrestled with his feelings, torn between the comfortable familiarity of hatred and the unsettling allure of something new. His internal battle consumed him, tormenting his every thought. What was happening to him? How could a person he had once despised stir such conflicting emotions within him?

In the stillness of his thoughts, doubt wove its tendrils through Tom's mind, tightening like a constricting snake, threatening to suffocate him with its conflicting presence.

Unknown emotions swirled within him, a turbulent mix that challenged the very core of his being. The source of this upheaval? You.

For so long, Tom had reveled in his hatred for you, finding solace in the darkness it provided. But now, the lines blurred, and he found himself teetering on the precipice of something new and terrifying. A part of him yearned to embrace these unfamiliar sentiments, to explore the depths of his own vulnerabilities. Yet, another part clung desperately to the comfort of loathing, fearing the uncertainty that lay ahead.

You had become an enigma he couldn't decipher—a puzzle piece that refused to fit neatly into his predetermined narrative. Your presence, once a thorn in his side, now had the power to ignite a spark within him, casting doubt on the foundations of his carefully constructed persona.

With every stolen glance, every accidental brush of skin, his walls crumbled, exposing the rawness beneath. The once unyielding armor of hatred cracked under the weight of conflicting desires and buried longing.

It infuriated him. It terrified him.

He despised how you had effortlessly breached his defenses, leaving him vulnerable and exposed. It was as if you had unlocked a hidden chamber in his soul, releasing emotions he had long suppressed. He resented the power you held over him, the way you unsettled his carefully controlled existence.

Yet, even as Tom fought against these unfamiliar emotions, a small voice within him whispered of the possibilities that lay in embracing them.

He tried to bury the voice, banishing it from the recesses of his mind. It continued to whisper, he realized it wouldn't stop. Instead, it only grew louder, stronger. It demanded his surrender, his compliance, his acceptance.

As the tumultuous emotions surged within Tom, it felt as though he was losing control. The certainty he once held crumbled, leaving behind a profound sense of confusion. Like a question without an answer, he found himself adrift in a sea of uncertainty, searching for a guiding light that seemed elusive.

You were the catalyst for this internal chaos, the one who had unraveled the tightly woven threads of his convictions. Tom couldn't comprehend how you had managed to dismantle the carefully constructed fortress he had built around his heart. Your presence, once a source of loathing, now became the source of his bewilderment.

He felt lost—lost in the labyrinth of his own emotions, stumbling through the maze of conflicting desires. The hatred that had consumed him for so long had morphed into something else entirely. It gnawed at his insides, urging him to reconsider his preconceived notions and venture into uncharted territory.

It frustrated him to no end. He was accustomed to being in control, to understanding the intricacies of his own mind. But now, he stood at the precipice of the unknown, grappling with a myriad of feelings that defied explanation.

Tom yearned for clarity, for a resolute path to follow. He longed for the comfort of familiarity, for the ease of hatred that had shielded him from vulnerability. But with each passing day, that certainty slipped further from his grasp, leaving him teetering on the edge of an abyss.

And in the midst of his confusion, he couldn't help but place the blame on you. You had become the embodiment of his turmoil, the reason behind his internal disarray. The very thought of you filled him with equal parts fascination and trepidation.

Tom knew that something had to be done. He couldn't linger in this limbo forever. It was time to confront the chaos within, to find the answers that eluded him.

He took a deep breath, ready to face the enigma that was you, ready to delve into depths of his own soul. He had come to accept that what he was about to do, would likely change the plan he had so meticulously crafted for years. However, he knew something had to be done, before he went properly mad.

Tom needed answers, and the only person who would be able to provide them, was you.

Pt.2

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Upcoming KiriBaku Fic: Sneak Peek👀

A sneak peek 👀 at a scene I'm working on as part of a *much* larger KiriBaku fic that I'm posting later this month:

“Shit, Izuku is blowing up my phone. He said they're all going to Mina’s to continue the party.”

Eijiro peers over his shoulder and lets out a low laugh. “It’s already 1 AM!? Jeez, based on the spelling in these messages, Midoriya is drunkkkk.”

Katsuki reads aloud one of the text messages with a smirk as the pair makes their way into the kitchen. Eijiro puts on a pot of tea.

“Kacchannnnn r u feelin btr? Com prty @ Mnaaaaa.” Katsuki reads aloud with a smirk.

“You know, it’s funny.” Eijiro muses, running a hand through his bright hair. “I always thought you and Izuku had, like, a thing going on between the two of you.”

Katsuki looks at him thoughtfully for a moment, as if making a quick decision. He chooses his next words carefully. “I think that there was a time in our first year of high school where maybe I…ugh…wanted there to be something with Izuku. But I was so twisted up and full of resentment and fear and hormones. I didn’t fully understand what I was feeling and it made me so angry. Izuku and I never had a chance – we’re just friends now. And that feels right.”

Eijiro nods, knowing the two as well as he does, this explanation makes complete sense. The kettle starts to ring and he pours them each a steaming cup of tea.

“My weird fucked up relationship with Izuku is actually what made me realize that I’m attracted to guys.” Katsuki says thoughtfully, accepting a cup of tea with callused fingers. “You know I started to get a crush on you around our third year at UA.”

Eijiro marvels at how chatty an orgasm makes his friend-turned-lover. He notes this for the future. The red headed Pro hero blows on his tea to cool it. He takes a snapshot of the scene in his minds eye for future dissection - they’re both stark naked in his tiny kitchen, discussing their intertwined fates. Katsuki’s bare ass is pressed up against the snack cupboard. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Katsuki grabs a clean Red Riot logo glass off the counter and fills it with tap water before chugging it back. “I caught a glimpse of your ass in the locker room and my whole body felt like it was on fire.”

Eijiro splutters into his tea laughing. “Really!? It was my ass that caught your attention?”

“Yeah your towel slipped and there it was. A perfect fuckin’ peach.” Katsuki barks out a laugh as well. "And obviously the fact that you were my first real friend played a role, too."

Eijiro is touched by these words. He wishes he could articulate just how much the blonde’s friendship has always meant to him. He recalls the moment that marked his own shift in his feelings for Katsuki.

“I caught feelings for you wayyy back in our first year – remember how we saved you in Kamino Ward?” Eijiro takes a sip of his tea and sighs in contentment. “When you took my hand as we were flying through the air over All Might and those villain bastards…my heart just about exploded.”

“Huh.” Katsuki smirks. “How about that?”

They sip at their drinks for a while, enjoying each other's company in silence.

“So should we go meet up with all the rest of them?” Eijiro asks. “I’m exhausted but I’m kind of riding a weird adrenaline high from everything that’s happened tonight.”

“Same here.” He holds up a hand and Eijiro notices with a start that he’s shaking.

The sturdy hero closes the distance between them so he can grab Katsuki’s hand. He massages lightly at the wrist where he knows Katsuki aches from his quirk. After a moment of light touches, he brings the back of Katsuki’s hand to his lips for a quick kiss.

“If we go, we’ll probably end up crashing at Mina’s place when we come down from the high. Plus, it’s so late.” Eijiro continues to massage up Katsuki’s arm, reaching all the muscles that bear the brunt of Katsuki’s explosive quirk.

“I think, maybe…” Katsuki sighs as Eijiro works at his overused muscles with sure fingers. “We stay in. Go shower, do some deep breathing and try to wind down. Keep tonight just for us.”

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

Woohoo!! A full story is coming very, very soon so hold on tight!

In the meantime, feel free to check out:

My Masterlist 🔥💋💚

[the-empires-weapon]

Note on Resentment

AKA why I haven’t been posting very much. Full thing below the cut.

Soooooooooooo...I haven’t been well.

I want to say that it started at the end of August, but to be honest this has been building all summer. I think it’s pretty easy to tell that I haven’t been well since the summer began, just in a variety of risk-taking and emotional baggage that I’ve been carrying around. I mean, I was fucking with tips at work - while I understand the sort of vigilante justice shindig I was getting at, that could’ve cost me my job long before I was ready to leave. That, and the frustration I had about the job, were really unhealthy signs that told me I needed to get out. Since then, as of late August, my behavior’s manifested in worsening ways, and I finally got put onto a medication regimen that was going to help me feel a little less shitty.

Buuuuuuuuuuuuuut I think I know the truth now. Or, at least some of it.

When I first started this tumblr it was entirely for me to shout into the void and screw around in a fandom I was really excited about. It was a chance for me to rave about my OCs like everybody else. And that wouldn’t have been a big deal if things hadn’t gone like they did. But: they did, and my responses are my own, and that’s my issue to deal with.

The long and short of it is this: back in the spring I joined a group that was made up of a bunch of people in the fandom who were all friends of this main person. We all enjoyed each others’ company, and besides some . . . sticky situations which I won’t go into, we all just had a fun time talking about SWTOR. What was really nice was that I felt like I had a voice? And I wasn’t always being put down for being outrageous or energetic or excited. That was a really nice thing.

And then things began to shift.

I want to preface this by saying that I have no bad feelings towards anybody, because that would be shit, but I also want to make it clear: lots of the things I felt have been motivated by trauma from my own history, i.e. abuse. So that’s why I have been responding in the ways I have been. Regardless of that, the people I’m talking about are all fantastic, even if I won’t name them by name, because privacy.

Some people in the group began to click really well with one another; some of them began to become really popular in ways that I got to watch from the sidelines. That’s not anybody’s fault; it happens. When people have good content and ideas, that stuff happens. These people are still my friends, and I’m happy for their successes.

Well . . . or at least I want to be.

But some part of me started getting upset about it. It was this little voice that turned into this monster - why were they getting so much success when I was doing the same damn things in my corner, and at times better? Why were they becoming big when I wasn’t? It was more than that, too; I would make good content, KNOW it was good, KNOW I had an audience, but never got attention. I would churn out a post that got really popular - to me sixty notes was a godsend! - but almost nothing on my personal stuff. I was having moments of great success, but they never translated. It sort of became an obsession. I wanted to be relevant and interested and get attention. Unfortunately, it got to a point where I was feeling so proud of the stuff I was making, but couldn’t understand why they were never as popular as the rare 60+ or even 100+ notes I got on occasion. Everybody else was soaring and meanwhile I felt like I was sinking. So, I did what was best for me: I put this tumblr on hiatus and got the hell out of dodge for a little while.

I know this sounds a bit like a pity party - which I guess it is. I didn’t realize for a long time that this was how I was feeling. Now I’m a little closer to figuring it out, which is a blessing. But there’s still a lot of work to be done.

I’m just going to be upfront right now: I’m not sure I’m returning to SWTOR whenever I get back. Much as I can recognize WHY the resentment’s here, that doesn’t mean it isn’t any less real. And lots of it is stewed in the fandom. So if that’s the only reason you were here, then I totally get if now’s the time for you to peace out.

In the MEANTIME. I am working on content that’s way more exciting for me, that’s original work, that I really want to develop and push for my own creative benefit. That means, surprise surprise, working towards my dream of being a full-time artist. I’m not sure if it’ll be on this blog or not, if I may just rename this one, but I’ve reached a point where if my work is only selectively-viewed, then I’m going to make it the stuff that I feel will get my places. That means more of my art, my writing, revamping my Patreon, maybe even making a website. The first step to battling this resentment is to take out the competition, and if it’s my own work then I’m only competing with myself.

This is not going to happen overnight. It’s going to take some time; I’m still struggling with other things right now. But: those are what my thoughts have been and I figured it was finally time to share them. I know there are gonna be people that leave, or think me a brainless twat, but if that’s how you feel, then so be it. I understand now why I’ve been doing what I’ve been doing.

tl;dr I’ve grown to resent my own work and the work of those around me, and I’m sick of it. From now on I’m going to measure my success on my own terms, and stop feeling bitter about the people around me.

[crossdressingdeath]

I don't want to seem disrespectful. I'm just curious how is JYL forcing JZX to marry her? I was under the assumption the marriage agreement was between their mothers? Also I don't think Yanli has the power to break it on her own, I think.

Hm, maybe I didn't phrase that super well. I didn't mean that JYL was personally forcing JZX to marry her. My point was more that JZX is being forced and JYL is totally okay with that because it benefits her. Same thing with her not being able to break it; yes, there wasn't a huge amount she could do about it, but a) there's no evidence of her trying to talk to her father (who, remember, could break the engagement at any time if he so chose and in fact did so the moment he was given a reason to do so, specifically citing the fact that JZX didn't want it as part of his reasoning) or otherwise making any attempt to break it off so that someone wouldn't be forced to marry her against his will and b) she's sure as hell not all that broken up about the fact that someone is being forced to marry her against his will. The whole mess that is their engagement isn't JYL's doing, but she's definitely benefiting from it and quite content to continue benefiting from it no matter how miserable it makes the man she supposedly loves. As far as canon shows us she doesn't even make any attempt to get close to JZX until the marriage is no longer a sure thing!

...Actually, I feel like this is something that needs to be focused on for a second. It is no secret that JZX doesn't like JYL, and we know that he likes her fine when she starts putting in some actual effort. But the very fact that JZX likes JYL once she starts actually interacting with him means that... well, she didn't do that while the engagement was in place. Because if she had he would've liked her then; neither of them change enough that I think he wouldn't have liked her if he got to know her before the Sunshot Campaign. And there's nothing to suggest she wasn't allowed to spend time with him; she probably would've needed a chaperone, but no one had any reason to stop her from talking to her fiance and you know Madam Jin would've forced JZX to spend time with her whether he wanted to or not if JYL showed any real interest in doing so. JYL didn't bother to try to get JZX to like her until she was no longer guaranteed to marry him no matter how he felt about her. Now, if we're being charitable we could say she didn't want to push him and assumed that they'd get to know each other after they were married (which is still like... way to ensure that you foster years of resentment in your husband before even trying to get to know him despite having the opportunity to do so earlier, great planning there), but that's the best case scenario. If we're being less charitable... yeah, she couldn't be bothered to put in the work required to get him to a point where he so much as didn't actively dislike her because he was going to marry her whether he wanted to or not, and she started doing things for him during the Sunshot Campaign because she couldn't have chaperoned meetings with him (because oh my god there are more important things going on than your love life people are DYING) and if she wanted to marry him now she had to earn it.

...Also, I now find myself wondering if JZX's reason for marrying JYL had less to do with abruptly falling head-over-heels for the bland woman who is sort of vaguely nice but never actually helpful and who he doesn't doubt for a second would take credit for lower class people's work to benefit herself (which I mean given the rest of her family's track record isn't exactly a leap) despite us not seeing any real reason for him to change his mind so suddenly and more to do with having just survived a brutal war that killed most of the generation above his including pretty much all his peers' parents and wanting something safe; a blandly nice marriage to a blandly nice woman would probably seem pretty welcoming after all the shit that happened! And comes with the side benefit of getting his mother off his back.

[luffysfakebeard]

OMG I LOVE YOU SO MUCH YOUR EVAK CONTENT IS MY LIFE and I was sorta wondering, if you want to/have the time if you could explain a bit about your own head canons about Isak dealing with his aspergers at a young age? like, in elementary school (sorry I'm in America and I'm not sure what the Norwegian equivalent of elementary school is called), playing sports and all? how did he initially discover/come to terms with his condition? how did his parents handle it?just anythin w lil Isak ah ily thanks

he didn’t feel too different growing up, but looking back he realised there were definitely some differences with him and his peers???

Isak always always always preferred to watch other kids play than to play himself, but teachers always ushered him into activities and he always felt a little resentful of that

he had massive sensory issues with some of the thing in school

he had to wear gloves when they worked with clay because he refused to touch it with his bare hands

he usually loved the sensory trays when he was in nursery/reception, but when they filled it with sand he refused to go near it and cried when the teacher made him put his hand in the sand (side note: I watched a childcare worker once try to force a child to play with sensory trays and told a 14 month old to stop being such a baby and this poor kid was sobbing while the worker put her hand in the flour)

he loved sports, but he was very adamant about the rules. if someone broke the rules Isak would never let it slide.

he loved to read. he loved library time and he’d always go to the non-fiction books because he thought real stuff was so much cooler than the fiction

he didn’t have a lot of friends, but he didn’t mind. he had a few people and that’s all that mattered.

he quite often had friends for set areas: this friend likes to play blocks, that friend loves minibeasts too, that girl always made really cool pictures and would let Isak watch her paint, that group of kids were always game to play football, etc.

if things mixed it threw Isak a bit, like if the minibeast friend joined in a game of football

he wasn’t even ten before teachers were talking to his parents about how they thought he might be on the spectrum and might benefit from some extra help with his social communication (so what if he wasn’t very expressive??? or didn’t talk a lot????? Isak didn’t see what the big deal was)

his mum didn’t really care, she loved her boy even if he was a bit different

his dad had always thought Isak was a bit odd but having a name to it made it more real and he never really looked at Isak the same after Isak was diagnosed with Asperger’s

it was agreed that Isak didn’t need any one to one support, but his teachers always made little adjustments in their plans when necessary for Isak’s needs and things went pretty smoothly

Isak was bullied as a child. looking back, it was inevitable. he was the quiet kid, the one who observed and read and played next to other kids rather than with him.

it wasn’t often physical, and the words never really meant much to Isak because he didn’t care enough about the other child to really listen. and most of the time it was just stupid???? some kid once asked Isak if he was retarded and all Isak could think was no??? I’m smarter than you?? and the whole thing was so stupid that Isak didn’t even bother replying.

he always felt so much older than his age??? other kids would be playing make believe games but Isak could never get into that. he wanted to do other things, things like the older kids did. he watched the older kids race little cars they had made in science and he had never wished more that he was older than he did that afternoon

it became less obvious the older he got, but inside he still sometimes feels like the little kid crying because the teacher was forcing him to touch sand