#because of how bad my overall body pain is today. so. into the void it all goes

[mariska]

Been Another One Of Those Days Folkes ........ got therapy later (good) but i am in an indescribable amount of pain from both physically exhausting myself having to go through the hours long shower situation yesterday and general chronic pain/illness flare ups from all my other shit (bad) and even though i know therapy literally always helps cus thats Why I Go i just feel. so ridiculously drained of any and all energy and its cold and storming bad and theres no sunshine in the house and the light in the kitchen is broken and its dark in here and i dont want to go to therapy or get dressed or leave the house i do not even want to be in rn cus all i want to do is go back to bed and sleep for 10 years and wake up feeling good 4 once. :(

.... anyways!

#sry i rly do try not to make miserable venty posts on here these days cus i got way too used to doing that on here as a teen Way Back When #but i dont even have enough strength in my hand/finger joints + muscles to grip a pen and physically write it all down in my paper journal #because of how bad my overall body pain is today. so. into the void it all goes #how do ppl do this lol. like. go through multiple decades of life. how does anyone do that genuinely. #this is so miserable. i am so so so cold no matter what i do to warm up for 6-7 of every year now. #i cant fathom the concept of even one more decade like this. how are you supposed to get through it. :/ #6-7 months* i meant to say. in that one tag. sorry hands not working well. as also previously mentioned

[kunimikat]

When they find out you don’t love them anymore

(Heyyy, so there might be a few grammar errors, but this one is pretty long so hold on) Also do you want the good endings to these? Idk just asking

It started when you didn’t hang out as much with him

You’d make up excuses, ignore, or even give small lies

But he didn’t really take it in any way other than it was you having a hard time with school and stress

So he let you distance yourself

But when you started getting further, and started purposely giving out of the box reasons to not be around him

His gut started to churn

So each day he’d tried to get some way to get your attention

Monday

“Hey dumbass, let’s cook breakfast for the rest of the idiots today, just you and me.”

But when he went to get you up you just turned the other way. He rolled his eyes, a small smile making its way onto his face. The ash-blonde propped a knee up onto the edge of your bed, his hands caging you between them. Yet you barely reacted and instead you mumbled “Go away Bakugo, aren’t you supposed to cook with someone else today?” A hurt expression washed over his face in an instant, though he just thought it was just you being groggy. He started tickling you, a devilish smirk on his features, but you suddenly push his face back forcefully.

“I said get the hell out Bakugo! If it was you you’d be fuming when I try to wake you up so just go!”

You pulled the cover back up, and that was it. It hurt Bakugo even more when you didn’t even look back. But he just snarled and pent it up.

Breakfast didn’t taste as good as usual.

.

Tuesday

You were laughing with Todoroki when Bakugo entered the classroom. And he already didn’t like it as soon as he saw your hand on his shoulder, your leg brushed up against him. He immediately went over and snatched you back into his chest. You scoff “Bakugo- The hell?” You smack his hand off of you. You glare at him before nodding to Todoroki, not sparing Bakugo a glance as you walked back to your seat, starting conversation with Jirou as if that didn’t just happen. Bakugo stared wide eyed at your back then to a smirking Todoroki. He stood frozen. “Just lay off my s/o half n’ half.” He mumbleds as he went to his seat. ‘Was I....was I the wrong one?’ Bakugo jerked his head to the side to get rid of the thought. ‘Like hell I’m wrong.’

But he felt a pit in his stomach remembering your hand on Todoroki’s shoulder.

.

Wednesday

Bakugo wanted to take you hiking with him since you guys had been doing what you’ve wanted to do for the past few months.

But he didn’t expect you to be so upset.

“Really Bakugo? We always have to do some lame shit when you want to go somewhere, do you really like hiking anyway?”

He furrowed his eyebrows in annoyed confusion because you even asked that question.

“No shit, I’ve told you how many times I go hiking, do you not fucking listen? Last time I checked you ain’t deaf, so I thought you’d know by now.”

You quirked your brow up and rolled your eyes, walking off. Bakugo grabs your arm dragging you back, your faces so close your noses are touching.

“The fuck is your problem today? For the past few days you been bitching off, the hell is up with-“

“You, you’re my problem.”

And you pushed him back, opening your phone as you started to text someone and turn the corner in the hall.

Bakugo didn’t want to acknowledge the tears that streamed down his face as he walked to his dorm.

.

Thursday

Bakugo won the challenge in today’s lesson overall, yet he couldn’t help but look over and see your eyes on Todoroki the whole time. Even when he pushed himself, blew the biggest explosions, even won the damn thing. He couldn’t even get an ounce of his own s/o’s attention.

Bakugou huffs as he stormed to where and Todoroki were. He wrapped a arm around your waist. But he didn’t pay attention on the unimpressed expression on your face. But he did hear when you called back to Todoroki, “You did your best out there! See you tomorrow!”

And just like that you got of his arms and walked back to the locker rooms. But he grabbed your hand pulling you back almost instantaneously. “The fuck? You’re not gonna say anything to me? Is this a fucking joke?” A perplexed and pained expression on his face. But he was tempted to really do something when you sighed and started to walk off. “Yeah good job Bakugo, not like you need a boost in your ego though.”

For some reason hanging out with Kirishima at the arcade was the most amount of happiness Bakugo has had all week.

But as soon as he got back to the dorms the same depressing feeling washed over him.

Friday

“But why? Why don’t you love me anymore damn it!”

It was raining hard, the droplets kept mixing with the harsh rain as you both stood over the now soiled picnic food. He tried, he tried everything to get you to listen to him. But now you both just stood silently in the rain.

“I’m sorry Bakugo...it’s just I’m not really interested anymore. It not like I hate you or anything-“

“BULLSHIT!”

Bakugo was seething, rain starting to evaporate on his hands as they flared up.

“This past week...no,fuck, MONTH! You just cast me to the side like I’m a piece of fucking scum! I try...I try so fucking hard, and I’ve never even been in a damn relationship before! So I know I’m not perfect, I FUCKING KNOW. I KNOW I’m not like a prince like fucking half n half, but damn don’t you see I’m trying to work it out? I haven’t felt this much for anyone before Y/N! WHY... WHY DO YOU HATE ME SO MUCH? WHAT DID I DO SO WRONG? FUCK Y/N I’LL EVEN CHANGE! JUST.. Bakugo went quiet as a sob wracked his body, leaving him speechless for a moment. His voice cracks, “..don’t leave me alone Y/N, I don’t want to feel alone again after all this time.”

Yet even after Bakugo crouched to the ground, head in hands. He hears a disappointed sigh, his head almost gets whiplash from how fast he shot his head up. You looked at him with cold eyes and looked down at him with no interest.

“Listen Bakugo, I tried being nice about it but, I don’t love you anymore. I thought you were stronger than this, I guess not. What a shame. You brought me out here to say all of that? I’m cold, and I’m heading back to the dorms, but I did clean up the picnic during your tantrum. Sorry, Bakugo.”

Yet the apology was so cold it just felt like blurred lines of sentences came from your mouth to him. The rain drowning out any emotions other than the hurt and pain his heart felt. Bakugo sat in the muddy grass, his eyes blown as he reached pitifully at your form trudging farther and farther through the mud.

Aftermath

He just wasn’t the same.

Bakugo was even more aggressive but most times he’d take it out on the people that got too close to him.

But when he’s not angry, he’s just silent

Dozing off the all of a sudden at random times in class you’d look over to see his desk charred and he doesn’t even realize it

He’d had constant stress from the piling work on his desk as he sat in bed and stared at it with no motivation

Even though he got back on track, and a bit better, it still gnawed at the back of his head everyday of what he should’ve done instead what he did

During Hero Training when he’d hear you cheer for Todoroki, he knew he was never going to get a sincere apology

He knew he was never going to hear you cheer like you cheered Todoroki on

He knew he was never going to get the attention he wanted when he saw your arms linked with your group of friends during graduation as you walked off.

He knew he was going to never fill the void he thought he long forgot even after how many years of highschool he graduated, and how many years of hero work

Nothing and no one could make him feel the way you used to.

He noticed when you leaned out of his touch

Or the small unimpressed looks you’d have when you guys would kiss

And when he would ask you’d wave it off like it was nothing

Even when you surprisingly pushed him off of you as the class was doing movie nights, sitting with space in between

Midoriya noticed every single little thing

Yet when he confronted you about it you waved it off again and left before he could even ask you anything more

So, he decided to do a few things for you just in case he did something wrong and wanted to make it up

Monday

He placed a small gift on your desk. It was a small cat-version of all might in a box. At first you smiled, but then checked the signed name tag, he nearly screamed when you scoffed at it and just tossed it into your bag. He felt his heart clench but payed it no mind. He planned the right time to come in and walked right over to you.

“H-Hey Y/N! Did you like the little gift I bought?”

He could see the clearly fake smile on your face when you nod you head, but quickly dismiss him as you see Kirishima enter the room and walking over to him. Excitedly greeting him. Like he just gave you the gift instead.

Midoriya whimpered and gripped his bag straps. Ignoring how his stomach felt like it flipped.

Tuesday

Midoriya’s almost broke down when he went in to hug you in front of Kirishima and instead you went over and gave the redhead a ‘friendly’ hug.

“Hey Y/N! Are you and Midoryia busy or something?”You shook your head and went on in conversation, blatantly ignoring Midoryia, making him kind of want to throw up lunch. He frowned because, didn’t you guys plan something? Why did you lie?

The only person who actually paid attention was Bakugo, and even he felt a little bad. So he grabbed Kirishima’s collar and pulled Kirishima with him, locking eyes with Midoryia with an unknown expression. Then rolling his eyes and looking off. But Midoryia knew for sure he owed him a favor. He tried grabbing your hand but you pulled away.

“Sorry Izu, I uh...I have to go out for a bit.”

“But weren’t we going to go to the cafe today?”

“I know Izuku but...my friend texted me and there was a change in plans. I’ll see you later though!”

Yet he didn’t see you for the entire evening. He wrote down your conversation in a notebook. Analyzing what he could’ve said wrong. He didn’t even realize frustrated tears smearing the words.

Wednesday

People started to notice the nervous tics Midoryia did when you’d start talking to Kirishima.

“Are you okay Midoryia? Your hand is bleeding. Do you need to head to the nurse?”

“Ah! I-it’s okay Todoroki! It’s nothing, really!”

He didn’t want to leave the room right now, especially with the weird feeiling in his gut when he saw you lean in a little too close to Kirishima made his hand feel numb.

Thursday

Midoriya noticed your small lingering touches and stares on Kirishima during training. He even noticed you were quieter when cheering for him than you were Kirishima.

He noticed you smiled more at his jokes than his

He noted you suddenly liked the things you said you always hated when Kirishima said was into it.

And he kept in mind that evening you barely looked his way. He frowned at the thought and decided to walk over to you. But instead he wanted bawl his eyes out when you made eye contact, and instead of greeting him you started walking forward with Kirishima.

Friday

“I can’t find a single note on what I did so wrong to make you hate me so much.”

You couldn’t even realize the boy in front of you. Blind rage all over his face, fists clenched, and shaking body. All because of you.

You honestly wanted to cry because you were so used to the loving looks he’d always give you to the cold and angry one he had on now. But you knew you didn’t deserve to feel this way. You knew what you did was wrong yet, you can’t get rid of the guilt washing over yourself as you finally locked eyes with him.

“I...I give you so much time and attention. Love...appreciation, patience. So much fucking patientce Y/N. Yet, yet you just throw it away.”

The dead grass crunched under his weight as his knees slightly buckled. The snot and tears now covering a majority of his face as he cried. His sobs sounding louder and louder in the silent evening. He bit his lip as he clenched the part of his shirt over his heart.

“It..it hurts so much, why, why don’t you love me like I love you?”

He clenched his teeth before repeatly beating the same spot on his chest. You looked in horror, then rushed over to get him to stop. He grabs you hand just as you were about to stop him.

He looks at you with such a broken gaze. Puffy eyes, and tears still streaming down his face as his scarred hand holds onto yours. Quivering lip and clenched fist.

“Was I just never enough?”

Your eyes started to fill with tears as you covered your mouth. Shaking your head repeatedly, as words couldn’t leave your mouth.

“I’ve written so many lines of the possibilities of what I could’ve said wrong. Or what I gave you. How I kissed you, how I touched you, Y/N, I-...”

“It’s not that you did anything Izuku! It’s just...I fell in love with someone else and I didn’t know how to end it.”

You looked down in guilt.

“Haha...my prediction was right. I was just never lived up to what you wanted.”

“Izuku I-“

“It’s getting late L/N, let’s go.”

It was a quiet walk back to the dorms.

Aftermath

He just kind of went airplane mode

He wasn’t the same mumble-awkward teen he usually was

But instead he’d mostly stare out the window

Or endlessly write notes

He became engrossed in his studies

Rarely going out, barely talking to anyone, and even not eating cause he felt like it would interrupt his studying

When out on his patrols he’ll try to save anyone and everyone he can by himself.

And when he fails it sends him into a complete spiral

It makes him feel the same way he did that day when you two separated

Like he didn’t do enough so it was all his fault that it ended in this way

Regular panic/anxiety attacks

Bakugo actually leaving him alone and instead checking up on him and making sure he eats (forcibly)

Todoroki, Uraraka, and Iida routinely make sure he was actually going to sleep on time, or getting any at all

It did take him a while to actually get over it

And it totally affected how he looked at future relationships

When he does get with someone everytime he just suffocates them with attention, gifts, and anything he feels he isn’t doing right he’ll do it 110%

So a majority of his early adulthood he spent single- or in short-term relationships

Eventually he stayed single for awhile since he’d always compare them to you

Though he does have days where wish it was different

Wishes it was you next to him when he woke up

Wishes that you would hold his hand when he has a bad day at work

But when he has the bad days where the anxiety, hero work, and pressure gets to him.

He just thinks of the way you used to smile at him.

Eyyy so it was originally gonna be 3 but I realized I made it a little too long. I basically had really shit wifi so that was a part of the small hiatus. But also I was originally gonna be MHA boyos x Twitch Streamer Reader. Buuut Tumblr was cracked and deleted it so. 🧍Also do you want a part 2? Cause if not I’ll make my first fluff HCS for Valentine’s. Requests are open! So go wild

#bnha x reader #angst #mha headcanons #mha imagines #mha izuku #bnha x gn!reader #bnha x female reader #bnha x male reader #bnha x gender neutral reader #bnha x poc!reader #bnha hcs #mha x female reader #mha x male reader #mha oneshot #mha scenarios #mha x gender neutral reader #mha x gn!reader #izuku midoria x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya x y/n #midoriya angst #bakugou angst #bakugou x reader #katsuki x y/n #bakugou headcanons #katsuki bakugō #mha #bnha #bnha angst

[pa-panda-heroes]

No one asked but take it hERE YOU GO bc I’m suffering and I just need a 2d baby to help me with my shit spine-

Megumi, Yuuji, and Nobara helping out their s/o with back issues!

Megumi:

He doesn’t know a thing about it and what it’s like, or even heard of your issue. That said, he’s quick to look it up on the internet to figure out exactly what’s goin on, what might help, and what he can help with. Really wants to help if he can’

Need your shit put back into place? Megumi’s your guy! He’ll watch dozens of videos to learn how to do it, and while he may be nervous about cracking your back and shifting things back into place, he’s a natural at it. He’s gentle with you, refraining from manhandling and yanking you around when he doesn’t need to, and he somehow knows exactly how much pressure is needed and where.

Even though he does so well, he’ll always remark a firm “You really should see a professional about it, though.” He’s just pushy like that, even though he’s always happy to help where he can. Megumi just thinks it’s better to have someone trained and licensed to do something like this.

Probably won’t be too thrilled when you ask for a massage for the first time. Again, he’s fine with learning, but he doesn’t feel apt enough and encourages you to have a pro do it. You need to be as stubborn as Nobara to convince him.

Once you do, though, he realizes it’s kinda nice. The two of you can chitchat idly about anything that comes to mind and it’s really peaceful. It’s quiet. Void of the “excitement” that daily life has, be it fighting for your life against curses or trying to keep a tight leash on Yuuji and Nobara. And if you fall asleep? He’ll swoon.

Eventually he’ll pick up on what aggravates your back and what doesn’t, as well as what helps and what doesn’t. Megumi will also quickly notice cues in your body language or demeanor that call for his help, painkillers, or a much-needed break.

If you’ve been out and about all day exorcising curses and the pain gets unbearable, asking him to carry you on his back can yield various results. If the others are around or if you’re in public, he’ll be pretty adamant you take some pain pills and rest for a little while.

It’s not that he sees it as a burden or anything; he likes that you’d ask him. However, the thought of carrying you on his back in front of other people is quite flustering to him, but if you’re actually wounded aside from your usual issue, he’ll follow along with a bit of grumbling. When no one’s around, though, he’ll offer before you can ask.

Yuuji:

You’d think he would be clueless and utterly confused, but nay! Yuuji knows lidocaine patches are a gift to this world, hot pads are a gem, and hot baths are an absolute miracle. Well, they can be. He knows that when it’s especially bad, it’s bad and your best bet is to find the most comfortable resting position as possible and leave it at that.

Sympathetic as hell. Yuuji has seen what back pain can do to someone - he saw that with his own grandfather, even if the old man’s issue was brought on by his age. While he doesn’t experience it himself, Yuuji just knows. He doesn’t know how to pop you back into place, though. The old man was stubborn about letting him do that, so he has no experience.

Great at cracking things back into place once you teach him, even if he can be a bit clumsy actually getting into position to do it. “No, you have to stand so that I’m facing you.” “Oh, so... like this, with my hands this way?” “Yuuji, sweetheart, you can’t pop my hips back into place from my knees-“

He tries so hard to help out. Whether it’s popping up out the blue (and giving you one hell of a fright) with painkillers, keeping a literal stockpile of lidocaine patches in his pockets, or constantly asking if he can “crack” you (much to the bewilderment of everyone else because he gives no context-), Yuuji nearly smothers you.

It’s cute, though, and he’s smothering you for all the right reasons! When you happen to be in the city after a job well-done, he’ll offer to buy you ice cream, “since you worked so hard today and your back is probably killing you.” “Yuuji, are you using my shit back as an excuse to gorge on sweets?!” Yes, yes he absolutely is. And with the massive puppy eyes he gives you, there’s no way you can say no.

Loves loves loves to do the thing where he hugs you from behind, squeezes real tightly, and jerks you up. He’ll say it’s because it seems to help and the relief he sees on your face afterward is wonderful to see, but it’s really because he just likes squeezing you.

Gives you piggyback rides all the time. You can refuse and tell him your back is fine to walk all you want, but it won’t work. He’ll come up with an excuse along the lines of preventing your back from getting bad. You have to somewhat admit he has a point, and he honestly does believe in that. But he’s just happy to carry you.

Horrible masseuse. Dear Fujisan keep this boy the hell away from your muscles. Popping and cracking you entails quick, hard pressure and maneuvers, while massages entail constant pressure over periods of time and slow, graceful movements. Yuuji is neither slow nor graceful. He tries so hard for you, tho

Nobara:

This poor girl has no idea what the hell is going on with you but still somehow does everything right. And she’s totally bewildered when a wild guess in the dark actually works, like.... what?? Are you sure you’re not faking it so she doesn’t feel bad for being clueless?? Y/n?? Hello??

Scared of her own shadow when it comes to helping crack you or put your back into place. Remember Noboara’s little “muri muri muri” dance when she found out Yuuji ate a cursed object? That is exactly what you get when you bring it up to her, because she’s afraid she’ll hurt you.

You will have to show her on her own body what you need before she’ll consider doing it. Or, you can taunt her. That always works! But once she’s got it down, Nobara might even ask you if you can work on her back or refer her to the chiropractor that you go to when you’re able. She’s curious to see how an adjustment could help her even though she doesn’t have any problems.

Pain killers and heating pads galore. She has so much stockpiled in her cabinet, you wonder if she eats pills like candy. In reality, she just likes to be prepared. She keeps plenty of other things of a medical nature, too. “Hey, hey, hey, y/n! Have you tried a back brace? I’ve got this kind, and this kind...”

Actually gets super interested in your condition. Nobara will scour the internet trying to learn everything she can, be it looking at x-ray samples or treatments. She even saw a video detailing the process of drilling screws and metal bars into the spine to treat scoliosis, once. Needless to say, she gets a handle of what your condition is rather effectively.

Unless you’re a fair amount under 160cm/5ft3 in height, you’re probably not getting any piggyback rides from Nobara. You can bet she’ll try, though, especially when the others (or you) tease her about it. She’ll pull it off out of hard spite, just to prove them wrong because she can do anything she puts her mind to and she’s stubborn.

Ask her for a massage. Do it. You will not regret it! Nobara’s lithe fingers are perfect for rolling out any built-up tension. She knows just what kind of pressure, where to put it, and how to move her fingers over your muscles to help reduce pain, tension, and just overall stress.

And she has fun doing it, too! She loves helping you out, and every once in a while when she’s really focused, you can catch her humming to herself with a tiny smile and cheery glint to her eyes. Nobara is surprisingly a quiet masseuse because of her intense focus, so you’ll have to do most of the talking if you feel like it.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fushiguro x reader #itadori x reader #kugisaki x reader #megumi x reader #yuuji x reader #nobara x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #kugisaki nobara x reader #disclaimer:this was entirely self-indulgent and definitely led by my own experiences with scoliosis whoops

[tiniest-typewriter]

you’re my number one *:・ﾟ✧

characters: Mario/Luigi

summary: Mario has a day off and spends it with his beloved brother, who makes a shocking discovery

its been quite some time since the older one of the Mario bros had a day off. there was always something the plumber needed to be ready for.

princess peach getting kidnapped? the Toads being threatened by Goombas? Bowser being up to his usual shenanigans? you never know!

but today, he was finally free to kick back and spend some quality time with his beloved brother Luigi.

speaking of, he was just heading for the living room, but got involuntarily slobbered on by polterpup on his way there. he chuckled and pet the loyal pup before heading to join his brother on the couch.

“so uh..“ he began “finally a day off, huh?“

Mario chuckled and stretched his arms. “yes! the kingdom is safe and I can-“ he interrupted himself with a pained yipe “mama mia!!“ and quickly lowered his arms again.

“ma-ma-ma-mario?! whats wrong?!“ luigi asked, full of concern. but his older bro shook his head “nothing! nothing! I´m fine!“ polterpup whined and jumped up onto the couch, right next to the hurt plumber. meanwhile luigi began to look more and more worried about his brother. which was something Mario just couldn't bear to see for too long “okay okay!“ mario said eventually. “I may have been hit a bit too hard when I went to save the princess the other day“ he said, trying to make it sound like just a bit of an inconvienience.

“but It´s fine! nothing I havent gone through before! I will be up going on another adventure in no time!“ but just as he was trying to strike a heroic pose for his bro to underline his confidence, the pain struck through his body yet again “ouwowowowouch!!!“ he whined out of pain and habit.

that was it! luigi has heard enough!

“you should go to bed!“ he told his bro. “or take a hot bath or whatever! just anything to help you get well!“

but mario protested “luigi! I don´t need to rest! I am fine! really!“ he said. polterpup whined and poked his nose into mario´s side, making him cry out in pain a third time and making his argument void.

Luigi took mario´s arm and carefully pulled him up to his feet. “you need rest, bro!“ he said. polterpup barked in agreement and followed the two brothers to their bedroom.

---

“come on!“ “no!“

mario and luigi were sitting on the bed, the latter holding a first aid kit and the former pouting like a child.

“come on, brother!“ luigi said. “you need to let me see your injuries so I can treat them!“

mario tried to keep insisting that everything was perfectly fine, but he eventually gave up and sighed in defeat. “okay, okay” he said reluctantly and opened the buttons of his overalls. however, taking off his shirt was more of a struggle. he attempted it, but when he lifted his arms, the pain struck once more, making him stop.

luigi frowned in worry. “you must be really badly hurt.“ he said. “that´s nothing!“ mario insisted and tried again, biting down hard on his lip as he slipped out of the shirt and tossed it aside. “th-there! no problem!“ he said, clearly in a lot of pain.

luigi gasped in shock at what he saw. “M-M-MARIO!!” he shouted. “how could you keep this from me??”

the chubby plumber´s body was covered in painful looking bruises and marks.

this was definitely more than just being ´hit a bit too hard´.

there was a large blue and red mark covering nearly his whole left side and many smaller ones all over the place, along with various scratches and a quite nasty looking scar going from over his chest to his right side.

it looked like bowser threw him around the room like a bouncy ball and then gave him to a chain-chomp as a chew toy.

“how did this happen??“ luigi asked in terror, while mario tried his best to calm him down. “like I said! adventure! the-the princess!! she needed saving!!“ “you can´t safe the princess if you get turned into a pile of mushroom mash first!!“

mario pouted, but knew his bro was right.

luigi opened the first aid kit, but didnt even know what to focus on first. the scar looked pretty bad..but the bruise did too!

he aplied some medicine to a cotton ball and sheepishly looked away. “this might burn a bit” he said and before mario could even say “huh?” he went to work disinfecting the scar.

the pudgy plumber yiped in pain, but quickly pressed a hand to his mouth to silence himself “I know, I know!“ luigi said. “I´m sorry! I´m almost done!“ luigi was entirely focused on treating the nasty wound, so he didnt notice polterpup sneaking around the room, taking steps that were lighter than air. the little doggie eventually walked up to the bed, as he wanted to see what was keeping the two busy for so long.

he gave a small bark.

which ended up spooking luigi so much that he threw himself forward into mario’s arms out of fear.

the poor man was trembling horribly, expecting a ghost or chain chomp attack out of nowhere, but once he finally opened his eyes, he was just greeted by polterpup’s innocent little face as he rolled around, barked some more and then vanished through the wall.

“phew..“ luigi was relieved that there was no danger around, however, now he found himself in a whole different situation.

“oh..OH!!“ luigi quickly backed away from his half naked brother, his entire face bright pink from embarrasment. he chuckled nervously and looked away. “I-I’m so sorry mario!“ he said. “I was just- I didn’t mean to- I thought-“ but whatever he was about to say got replaced by another worry. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?“

mario, still a bit confused by how quickly all of that transpired, shook his head. “n-no, I’m fine“ he said. “how about you? are you alright?“ luigi nodded shyly. “y-y-yes!“ he said. “p-polterpup just surprised me, that’s all..“

he took the bandages from the first aid kit, but as he continued treating mario’s wounds, he couldn’t seem to concentrate..or look up at him for that matter.

he began to focus on small details, like how often his fingers brushed against his brother’s bare skin..or how much his hands were shaking..and how uncomfortably hot his face felt..

was this weird? was he being weird?

all luigi wanted was to treat his brother’s battle wounds, but all of a sudden he felt like he’s crossing a line..

was Mario even taking any note of that? was the anxious plumber just overthinking the situation and making a big deal out of nothing?

all those thoughts tore at poor Luigi and it didnt take long until he suddenly dropped the roll of bandages.

“oh! I-I’m sorry, I’m just a bit distracted..“ Luigi said with a nervous laugh and picked the bandages back up. “distracted by what?“ as Luigi looked up at Mario, he saw such a gentle little smile on the other’s face that it made Luigi smile as well, despite all these conflicting thoughts occupying his mind. “n-nothing“ he said with a chuckle. “just..the usual.“ he shrugged.

he continued his work, taking deep breaths and trying to stop worrying about all this.

which was extremely hard as he felt his brother's eyes on him the whole time.

once he was finally done treating each and every one of Mario's wounds, he smiled proudly and handed his brother his shirt. "okie dokie, all done!" he said with a smile.

"thank you so much, bro!" Mario said happily and put the shirt back on with a bit of a struggle.

he then pulled Luigi into a big hug, leaving the tall plumber with even more conflicting feelings as he looked away ashamedly. "y-you're welcome.." he said. "okay, luigi. what's wrong?" Mario asked, both fists on his hips in a somewhat scolding manner.

"n-nothing!" Luigi insisted, but his brother didn't let him off the hook that easily. "you're acting strange! luigi, I am your brother, if there is something going on with you, you can tell me!"

at that, Mario's stern look got a lot more gentle, almost pleading. which in turn, made Luigi feel a whole lot more guilty than he did already.

"I-I.." he was about to spill the pasta sauce, but he just couldn't talk about it. "I can't tell you this, Mario..I'm sorry.." he looked away. he simply couldn't see that worried and hurt look in his beloved brother's face anymore.

but as much as it pained him to be so secretive to his brother, someone he´s known his whole life and who he knew wouldn´t be upset with luigi even if he did tell him..

..probably..

..maybe..

..hopefully...

no. no no no!

he couldn't tell him about all those things that are on his mind right now. it was too big of a risk!

Luigi swallowed hard in his throat and stood up to leave. "w-well, you need rest, so I better-"

but then, unbeknownst to Luigi, polterpup came jumping through the wall right behind him, accidentally bumping into him and making him stumble, trip and fall. but this time, he would have fallen flat on his face, if it wasn't for the hero of the mushroom kingdom jumping up from the bed to quickly catch him.

so there he was again. in his brother's arms once more. this time he was not half naked, granted, but luigi's face was flushing up nonetheless.

"are you okay, little brother?" Mario asked, a bright smile on his face as he held his brother in his arms as if he was lighter than a feather. Luigi found himself entranced and couldn't help but be amazed by Mario's strengh. after all, Luigi had just finished patching up his wounds and here he was lifting him up like it's nothing.

Guess a true hero never rests, huh?

that thought made Luigi smile. it made all so much sense now..

thinking back, Luigi would always make sure to stay as close to his broter as possible. because he felt safe by his side, more confident and as if he could take on the whole world with his brother.

he admired him..

he loved him..

..maybe..more than he initially thought..

Mario may have over time become the hero of the mushroom kingdom, but to Luigi, he was always a hero..his hero..

and in his dazed and awestruck state of mind, Luigi did something truly outrageous.

he grabbed Mario by the collar of his shirt and went for a kiss right on his brother's lips. it lasted quite a while actually, before Luigi's mind caught up with what on earth he was doing that is.

the realisation came like a speeding bullet bill and his entire body jerked in shock, making him slip out of Mario's arms.

interestingly enough, that seemed to concern Mario much more than what happened prior.

"Luigi!!" he called out and helped him back to his feet. "are you hurt? I didn't mean to let you fall!"

"ma-ma-ma-mario!! I-I can explain!!" Luigi cried immediately, already backing away as there was nothing he would rather do in this moment than to flee.

"I was just-!! I wasnt trying to-!!"

"Luigi!"

"it won't ever, ever happen again, mario! I'm so so sorry!!"

"Luigi!!"

"I can't believe I did that!! you must be furious!! you must hate me!! you-"

but luigi got cut off by a rather soft pair of lips pressing against his and he could feel all of his anxious thoughts melt away as he was pulled into a hug on top of that.

it felt so warm and comforting..

as it ended, there was only one question left on Luigi's mind.

"does..does that mean..you..?"

his face got red and he was glad that he didn't need to finish that question, as Mario was already nodding.

"y-you.." Luigi gulped as he could feel himself nearly tearing up. "you're the best~" he said happily.

Mario nuzzled his cheek, chuckling. "you're the best~" he said.

#super mario #super mario bros #the super mario bros #mario #luigi #mario and luigi #mariocest #mario x luigi #fanfic #fanfiction #anti anti #pro shipping #anti anti shipping

[culturedsociety]

Culture Talks with Carolyn Blackmon

Carolyn, in English meaning Joy and Song of Happiness.

Over the last decade she’s been on a journey of healing and transformation. It’s been Incredible to look back and see how beauty does actually flourish through the ashes. What happened in her life; most definitely was birthed out of struggles, hardships, loss, depression, despair, and hopelessness. Looking back at her experiences and being In complete awe because of it. Her faith and belief in God changed when she realized that “the Creator Is ultimately in control and has the ability to take what Is broken and make It brand new.”

Her life verse Is Isaiah 61:1-3 “The spirit of the sovereign Lord Is upon me because the Lord has appointed me to provide for those who grieve, to bestow on them a crown of beauty Instead of ashes, the oil of gladness Instead of mourning, and a garment of praise Instead a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the lord for the display of his splendor.”

In her early twenties, she was extremely lost. Battling a severe eating disorder, alcoholism, depression, and sadness. She worked and pursued many things to distract herself from reality and to try to fill voids. The more destruction that she caused to her body, mind, and spirit’ the harder life became. One day after a big awakening, she had to make the choice and ask herself the hard question “Carolyn Do you want to live?” She knew at that very moment; she was not living, she was just surviving. 

She made the bold decision to pack her car and move alone from WI to AZ. The land of the sun became a place of healing for her. She found yoga there. She began her vegan plant based eating, and learned to nourish her body again after starving it for so long of vital nutrients it needed to thrive. She found joy through volunteering and serving. She found god again and was re-baptized. But most importantly, found her self again.

Reflecting back to Fall of 2015 when she lost her best friend and mother to Cancer. It was as though her entire world and perspective changed about the value and gift that each day offers. She started to travel more and continued doing mission work that her mother supported the few years before she passed. She began seeking more and wanting more lead to healing the parts of her that were still broken.

In 2017, she traveled to Hawaii for her first yoga teacher training; which led her to step into a more passion and purposed filled path. This became a daily mission and allowed her the ability to circulate her gifts more responsibly. Her hope is to bless lives and help others heal, love, grow, and live their best life. To inspire them to live a life that brings an Abundance of joy, fulfillment, and higher purpose.

Take a deep dive into Carolyn’s mind:

RM: What is your Life’s Philosophy? CB: (Philosophy is an overall vision or attitude toward life and the purpose of it. Human activities are limited by time and death). I believe that we were all created in the image of God and we are each placed on Earth with our own individual and unique purpose. We are here to connect with nature, humans, animals, and to enjoy all of what God has created. We are here to not only soak in the beauty and light and spread it to others but to also use the darkness (whether it be our own struggles, lessons learned, trails, pain, suffering, etc) and use it to Glorify God? What does that mean? To use the wisdom gained, lessons learned, and the power of our testimony and story to shine the light of awareness upon all giving birth to Hope and helping others receive the healing power of Forgiveness.

RM: How has that philosophy evolved over the years? CB: Yes. I tell people that there was a line I drew that separated my old life and my new life. My old life included a long season of walking down the wrong path that ultimately was leading me down into hole. When I fell on my knees and surrendered and “woke” up. It hit me that I wasn’t living the life God planned for me. I was doing many things that I do believe helped me grow and get educated and led me to where I am today. I was drowning in depression, shame, low self esteem, and I didn’t practice self love.

Moving to AZ was the acceleration I needed to begin my rebirth process. I began serving others and finding joy in giving back for it made me realize that others had it harder than myself. I had a lot to be grateful for that I took for granted. Fast forward a few more years and I lost my Beloved Mother to Cancer. It made me realize that there is no time to waste. We are not promised tomorrow. We have a responsibility. Going through that loss changed my perspective on life and our time here on Earth.

I felt urgency. I felt my calling knocking on the door. I had to loose to gain so much more. I feel that my philosophy included being a good person, and working for what you want was so general….but over the years it’s evolved and things have been added and my life’s philosophy has gotten so complex. Creation. Calling. Service. Travel. Community. Collaboration. Healing. Purpose Filled Life

RM: How has your upbringing and circle of influence impacted the way you live and think about life today? CB: I grew up in a loving Christian home. My family members on both sides had good morals in their and the way they lived their lives was simple and consistent. I spent a lot of time in the Church. My parents Marketing business taught me so much as a young adult and I really absorbed a lot of it. My Grandpa Bood was my giver of Wisdom.

My circle of influence has really shifted in the last few years to be non-family members. Those that are where I want to be and who are doing what I am doing in their own way with their own talents. My circle of influence has been students, strangers, people I have met on travels, social media, and those that are in my tribe. It’s interesting to see how my relationships have changed and the type of people I have attracted and also been gravitated towards has changed as I have evolved and transformed and grown. My inner work has changed the way I function in relationships and I am still exploring how to have healthy boundaries as one who tends to be naïve, vulnerable, and who pours her heart and soul into everything.

RM: Do you believe that your line of work infects our society with positivity? How so? CB: When I am doing my work as a yoga instructor I try my best to step into the spaces where I am Leading classes and spread good energy that is uplifting and positive but I also know that people arrive on their mat with all different things that they are struggling with and going through and I never want to diminish that. I try to share themes that are relevant and helpful and inspiring because I really want everyone who interacts with me to leave with something that they can take with them. When they gain and grow and are blessed then so am I.

When I nanny and work with kids they give me an abundance of Joy and so I always try to pour back into the parents and thank them for the opportunity to enter into their home and spend time with them. I’ve worked jobs where felt like at the end of the day I was complaining about what I had to deal with or contend with and then I would wake up in a bad mood and that’s really a horrible cycle. I am thankful grateful that I am now an Independent Contractor and get to choose who I work with so that makes it easier but aside from that we all have a choice to make in regards to our attitude!

RM: How do you stay relevant, unique, and true to who you are as a person? CB: Let go of Comparison. It’s interesting because over the years as I became more at rest and confident in who I was and accepting of who God created me to be it made it easier to accept my path which is a lot different than many as well as accept my timeline which was not what I anticipated. I have started to become more of my own person….my tendencies and quirks have come to the surface unapologetically. Yes I am still Single…Yes I get excited over the Big Bowl Of Greens I eat everyday. My music selection changes drastically with my Mood. I could care less about TV and Material items….and I could go on and on.

The morning ritual I do sets the tone for my day. I tap into a passage or quote and scripture that I need to tell myself it’s like a treasure hunt and I get my coffee fix and take the time I need for myself and that way I’m more grounded and not shaken up or swayed or torn up by whatever may come at me and I feel that has given me the opportunity to respond better and hold my ground and keep healthy boundaries. I use to operate on not enough sleep and being stressed and hurried and then I would cave in to many things that ultimately didn’t serve myself or others well.

RM: Do you believe that the work you do everyday is aligned with your calling and higher purpose? CB: Absolutely and I want more and I am committed to continue to learn and grow and gain a deeper understanding and have more knowledge in the realm of yoga. The more spaces and places I enter and the more people that I connect and collaborate with the more lives I can touch and the more inspired I will be. This last year I started to share my content on a podcast and that was something I never imagined I would do and for a girl that use to be incredibly shy I never thought I would be on the stages I am on. It blows my mind and I am soooo appreciative.

What practices do you implement to stay grounded and divinely connected to self? CB: Guided Meditation. Yoga Nidra. Yoga. Nature. Travel. Writing. Music. Sharing wisdom with the world. Dancing. Music. Balance Healthy Clean Eating. Sharing Feelings and openly communicating with my support system. Spending a lot of time alone, while remaining connected with others.

Connect with Carolyn: Facebook Instagram

Collaboratively Written by: Carolyn Blackmon and Rebecca Muñoz

Grow this Channel & Circulate the energy of LOVE by donating: Paypal Cash app Venmo

#podcast #veganism #freedom #lifestyle #conversation #nomad #alignment #humanitarian #goodhumans #faith #mindset #empower #womeninspire

[kopykunoichi]

The Legacy of Star Wars: An Open Letter to the Writers and Creators of A Galaxy Far, Far Away

“Suddenly the Rebellion is real for you. Some of us live it. I’ve been in this fight since I was six years old!” ~ Cassian Andor

I saw a great meme once that played off that quote, meant to depict an older fan describing to a newer fan how they had been invested in the story of Star Wars from childhood. I could relate. Though I am not old enough to have seen the original Star Wars movies in theater, they were a significant part of my childhood. I remember renting the original theatrical VHS from our local video store all the time when I was little. Then we bought the digitally remastered Special Edition VHS Box Set and I spent the next decade wearing them out! We would have popcorn and Star Wars marathons all the time. My friends and I would always pretend we were in the story. My swingset was the Millennium Falcon. I was that 11-year-old girl who would argue with my friends over who was hotter - Luke or Han. (The correct answer is Han, of course!) My mother would read the Expanded Universe novels to me in the afternoons and we would talk about the characters. All my spending money went to Jedi Apprentice books and 6 inch action figures. In short, I loved Star Wars. 

I was 13 when The Phantom Menace hit theaters, and I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to get to see new stories from my favorite fictional universe play out on the big screen. Though I struggled a bit with some of the acting, the story was absolutely amazing to me. Star Wars felt all the more real to me with the amazing graphics and intense action sequences - not to mention the layers of politics and the complexity of the story. I watched Revenge of the Sith several times in theaters, and though it broke my heart to see Anakin’s fall, I never considered it to be a sad ending overall, when taken as a whole with the original trilogy. 

When the Clone Wars aired in 2008, I was ecstatic. Here was an Anakin I could actually get into (sorry, Hayden). I loved him. I adored Ahsoka. I wanted to marry Rex. The character development and the plot deepened my attachment to that era, and made me question everything I had previously taken for granted as good and bad. The whole system was flawed - the Republic and the Jedi. It wasn’t just a matter of mistakes being made and the wool being pulled over their eyes, there was deep rooted corruption in the side that I once felt was “good”. The light side and the dark side were not as black and white as I thought. I found myself strongly disliking some of the “good guys” and deeply sympathizing with some downright detestable people (I don’t know how you got me to care for Maul, Filoni - but well done). While the series had not yet ended, we knew where it was going. But still, we had already lived through the pain of Order 66, and we knew that the story would eventually culminate in a victory at the end of Return of the Jedi.

I couldn’t believe our luck when the first installment of the sequel trilogy hit the theaters in 2015. It had some of the feelings of a reboot, but I was beyond thrilled to have a series of Star Wars movies that I could now share with my children, as my parents had shared them with me. Though it was hard to say goodbye to the first love of my life, Han Solo - I just knew that Ben would be redeemed and Han’s sacrifice would be worth it...

2016 brought us Rogue One. We knew how that one was going to end too, but we still ate it up. I fell in love with a whole new set of characters, only to see each and every one of them die in the end. Talk about tragedy. But Leia’s line about hope reminded us that five minutes later, a whiny little farm boy was about to have his whole life upended in the best sort of way...so it was okay. Sort of.

Four years of Rebels ended in 2018, and it was so, so lovely - but it hurt so, so much. My perfect, beautiful space family had been torn apart with Kanan’s death. Ezra was missing. Rex was a 29-year-old man who should have been in his prime, but was instead struggling with the wear and tear of a 60-year-old body. Ahsoka was separated from him - AGAIN - and then she left with Sabine to look for Ezra. The ending still held the promise of the fight to come with the Empire, but the majority of our characters were left in a place of grief and brokenness.

2019 brought an end to the sequel trilogy. Once again, we had characters who pulled at our heartstrings, and an interesting struggle between “light” and “dark” that reminded me of the complexities introduced in The Clone Wars. It became more apparent than ever that balance in the Force did not mean the light triumphing over the dark, but instead a harmony between the two. At least, that’s what I thought. Until I watched every person I loved from the original trilogy die, Palpatine come back (and die) again, and the same exact ending of Return of the Jedi played out before me - except not as happy. Why? Because Anakin’s legacy had been reduced to ashes - his rise, fall, redemption, and sacrifice rendered null and void. The last Skywalker was redeemed and promptly killed, just like his grandfather. But because Rey Palpatine decided that she identified as Rey Skywalker, it was supposed to be okay. She then went to go hang out (or live?) alone on Tatooine because that’s where it all started. I was dumbfounded. This was the satisfying, hopeful, ending we were promised? How? 

Believe it or not, I’m not here to trash the sequels - I enjoyed them very much - right up until the last 20 minutes. But in that space of time, the entire legacy of the Skywalker family went up in smoke, and the legacy of Star Wars along with it. Since Return of the Jedi, there have been no happy endings to a Star Wars movie trilogy or TV show. And with the ending of The Rise of Skywalker, that one happy ending we did have was ripped from us as well. Star Wars is now a never ending series of tragic endings. The lessons we are left with: Don’t fall in love in Star Wars, it will end badly. Your actions ultimately result in failure. As soon as you turn good, you die. There is no balance in the Force, just a pendulum swinging back and forth for all time. 

Then The Clone Wars finally got her last season. I didn’t think Order 66 could have hurt worse, but Filoni set out to prove us all wrong...and succeeded. I’m still not over it. And once more, the bitterness I felt over the ending to the sequels (which had begun to subside) flared up all over again. What was it all for? All that pain. All that sacrifice. No happy endings. 

I still love Star Wars. Nothing can take that away from me. No amount of bad writing can change that. And there are still plenty of good writers and creators working on Star Wars content. But good writers spinning tales of tragedy and endless pain negates the power of good writing. The Star Wars of my childhood is not the Star Wars of today. We wore out those VHS tapes because we loved the stories and the people. But my kids are not going to wear out DVDs where everyone they love dies or ends up alone. They aren’t going to queue up those digital movies and series over and over - because who wants to subject themselves to that kind of torture?

Just about the only safe space for Star Wars fans right now is fanfiction archives where the people who love the characters are busy writing fix-it fics to squeeze some sort of satisfying ending out of the canon content. The Mandalorian is literally our last hope for a Star Wars story that has the potential to end well. I swear, if Din Djarin ends up dead or alone at the end of this series, I’m going to lose it. The overwhelming sentiment of the Star Wars fanbase - from original trilogy fanboys to Tumblr blogging Reylos, and everyone in between - is that of dissatisfaction with canon content (with the exception of The Mandalorian). So much so, that many fans are just saying “screw it” and churning out a myriad of fanfiction AUs because there is no way to salvage what has been written. Half of Tumblr is in therapy after The Rise of Skywalker ending and the last episode of Clone Wars - but they weren’t exactly stable to begin with. The other forums and social media platforms are not much better, though.

It’s not just about the quality of writing - because Filoni and co. have done exceptional work with The Clone Wars, Rebels, and The Mandalorian. It’s the tragedy, guys. We can’t take it anymore. Is this really what we want the Star Wars legacy to be? Sadness? Despair? It’s a story about war - people are going to die. I get that. Victory comes at a price, but the cost can’t be worse than the victory. I want to sit down with my kids and watch Star Wars over and over again. The Mandalorian has given us a taste of that - but I’m almost afraid of where it will go. We’ve been burned so many times, I’m beginning to know what Anakin felt like on Mustafar - writhing in agony and screaming “I hate you” to someone he once loved. 

I remember happier days when Luke and Leia and Han were laughing and smiling with their friends while Yoda, Obi-Wan, and Anakin looked on. I want that back. Filoni. Favreau. Creators. Writers. Producers. Directors. You are our only hope for canon content. Use The Mandalorian wisely. Use Din’s story to bless other characters. Here’s some ideas:

Let Din have a happy ending! Preferably with someone he loves and respects at his side (like Cara). 

Let Cara become a Mandalorian - and put Paz Vizsla in charge of her training (we need to see them spar).

Let what’s left of the Tribe establish a new Mandalorian colony - and let Sabine Wren lead it. And give her that Darksaber back - she earned it. 

Let Ezra come back from regions unknown with a deeper understanding of the Force, and have him train the child in the new colony. 

Forget the Jedi and Sith, let’s start a medical training center/hospital run by Force users who can help heal people when modern medicine fails! 

Ahsoka can use her talents for that too. 

Find the rest of the child’s race and bring any of their Force sensitives onboard. 

Let Boba Fett and Din have their epic showdown, but then use a sample of Boba’s unaltered DNA and some mystical Force healing to restore Rex’s body to what a 43-year-old should be (and then he can marry Ahsoka so we can have the Clone/Jedi couple we always wanted...thanks to you, Filoni).

Let the Mandalorians partner with the New Republic in the Outer Rim as law enforcement instead of bounty hunters, so they can get their reputation back. 

They can train new recruits and pilots, just like Fenn Rau trained clones. 

Let them keep their autonomy and traditions, while helping keep the New Republic honest.

Let them be a force for good in the galaxy, for once. 

The Mandalorian could serve as the vessel to give a lot of characters with unresolved or tragic storylines some closure and better endings. If not The Mandalorian, then other new shows. My 6-year-old daughter wants nothing more than to be Ahsoka Tano. My 3-year-old son asks me to watch The Mandalorian every day. My 18-month-old daughter walks around in her brother’s Mandalorian helmet babbling “Way”. Please let me share the Star Wars legacy that I grew up loving with them. Let me show them the happy endings I enjoyed. Let me show them that even in the midst of conflict, not every life has to be ruined. Let me show them a Star Wars story with a satisfying ending. Hope. Redemption. Love. That’s what Star Wars means to me. 

May the Force be With You (and your pens),

Rebekah, A Star Wars Fan

#star wars #open letter #star wars original trilogy #star wars prequels #star wars sequel trilogy #the phantom menace #attack of the clones #the clone wars #revenge of the sith #solo a star wars story #star wars rebels #rogue one #a new hope #empire strikes back #return of the jedi #the mandalorian #the force awakens #the last jedi #the rise of skywalker #the legacy of star wars #stop the tragic ending and subverted expectations...give us happy endings to some of these characters #save star wars #the fanfiction writers get it #do we have to do it all ourselves? #dave filoni #jon favreau #you guys are our last hope

[mebediel]

Tagged by @toooldforthisbutstill!

when did you last sing to yourself?

Yesterday, I think.

if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?

Who wrote the Voynich Manuscript and what does it say?

what is the greatest accomplishment of your life?

Oh, that’s hard to answer. So far, my greatest accomplishment has been graduating university without imploding, but hopefully I’ll surpass that accomplishment soon!

what is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise?

Rather recent one: getting accepted into grad school :3

if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?

I’d probably quit my job, decline my grad school offer, and move back in with my parents/travel around the world saying goodbye to people and places.

do you have a bucket list? if so, what are the top three things?

I don’t, but here are three things I’m making up on the spot:

1. Learn Shanghainese,

2. Get published in the academic world,

3. Get published in the fiction world.

describe a person close to your life in detail

My sister:

Short-medium height; long, long brown hair; brown eyes; heart-shaped face.

Analytical, artistic, broad-interests, sometimes awkward and self-conscious, often opinionated and argumentative.

do you feel you had a happy childhood?

Overall, yes. There were definitely a lot of rough spots, and I regret the ways I acted back then, but I wouldn’t trade any of the bad experiences for the world because they’re part of what made me grow into who I am now.

when did you last cry in front of another person?

Literally today on the train in front of a bunch of strangers lol.

pick a person to stargaze with you and explain why you picked them

The friend occasionally nicknamed Egg (he is not on this site) because (1) he knows astronomy and I like stealing knowledge from people and (2) we used to do that in college sometimes and it would bring back good memories.

would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them?

Yes, and I’ve done this before.

when was your last 3am conversation with someone, and who were they to you?

I think in December, and they’re a college friend in a different city.

if you were about to die, and you could only say one more sentence to one person, what would you say and to whom?

"Thanks, Mom, love you.”

what is your opinion on brown eyes?

They’re great, they’re pretty, and I need them to see.

pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally

“All wishes are not idle, not in vain

fulfilment we devise - for pain is pain,

not for itself to be desired, but ill;

or else to strive or to subdue the will

alike were graceless; and of Evil this

alone is dreadly certain: Evil is.”

- JRR Tolkien, Mythopoeia

The poem as a whole is important to me, but this passage in particular I think encapsulates the idea that (sub)creation is an act of hope and defiance in a dark and painful world.

what would you title the autobiography of your life so far?

Not Lost, I Promise

what would you do with one billion dollars?

Pay for education (mine and others), build homes (mine and others)...I don’t really have a conception of how much a billion dollars can pay for, so I guess the rest can go to various charities.

are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way?

I would like to say that I am, but I don’t think that’s my judgment to make. How forgiving is “very forgiving”?

would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel?

Punk

how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain

Cool on other people, but the idea of altering my body wigs me out.

do you wear a lot of makeup? why/why not?

No, I don’t wear any makeup. I never thought that I needed it, and now I’m not patient enough to learn + I break out when I do + it would take too long in the morning + I save money by not wearing it.

talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way

CORNY BUT Switchfoot’s “Live It Well” from their album “Where the Light Shines Through” made me cry my third year of college. It helped me change my attitude toward a lot of things that were going on that year, which in turn helped me be more understanding and act more respectfully toward the people around me.

list the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel

Erm, I haven’t been to a lot of concerts honestly. I went to a TobyMac concert once and a Switchfoot/Relient K concert. I tried to go to a Mitski concert with my roommate but we got the date wrong so we’re trying again in a couple months. I like them! I don’t think I could go to a concert alone, though.

who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say?

A specific medieval professor (Geraldine Heng). “You are smart and not dumb :)”

do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organised/not organised?

I have one of those corner desks from IKEA. It’s not super organized...there are books on the shelves/all along the top, and the rest of it is covered in papers and stationary and random stuff. Part of the problem is that I need more drawers/organizational furniture, but I don’t want to buy anything until after I move to a new place.

what is your night time routine?

Collapse onto bed, go through tumblr/emails, pet cat, force myself to get up and brush my teeth/shower, crawl back into bed.

what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know?

All of my political views. They already know some of them and the result hasn’t been the awesomest.

if you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why?

Hmm maybe some ombre of purple or red. I think it’s pretty. I can’t dye my hair easily because it’s so dark, but I don’t want to bleach it.

pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do?

My sister, my three childhood friends, and one of my college friends...lets call him Potato. We’re all pretty different, but the combination of the five of us would mean that there’s enough overlap in interests that no one would have to do any activities on their own. And I’d pick Japan because (1) one of the childhood friends is currently living there, and (2) it would be cool to take a couple weeks to explore the different aspects of historical and modern culture there.

name three wishes and why you wish for them

1. That I were better at abstract analysis. So that I could analyze better,

2. That I could memorize things better. Faster language acquisition + know more facts/poetry,

3. That I had more time in the day. Get more things done.

what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up

I made this really janky Glunkus costume once and it worked out pretty well. It was a joke on the “sexy cat lady” costume...you see a girl in pleather and cat ears and then she turns around and her face is just a void with teeth.

what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high?

I’ve never been drunk or high, but the number of dumb things I’ve done while sober is still pretty considerable.

if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair?

Sure, why not.

what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone?

My Starbucks order is literally just a tall chocolate milk or a tall Chai, depending on my mood. I’d trust anyone with that order...it’s pretty hard to mess up.

what is the most important thing to you in your life right now?

Learn all the things and learn them well.

Tagging:

@paranormal-paralegal, @ashinypenguin, @molybendium, @pekasairroc, @mnmdash...anyone else who wants to do this?

#meb's stuff

[etherealblasphemy]

The Unwanted One

heyheyhey I actually did some writing today!! I’m sorry that my brain only writes angst, but please take my offering for the sci-fi Sanders Sides au I’m hoping sounds cool.

Anywho, here’s some of Cal’s origin story because I have nothing to offer.

TW for violence, blood, bullying, general assholes being assholes

   On good days, they loved stars for their beautiful brilliance, coloring an otherwise dark void with the tiniest bit of light, the tiniest bit of hope. On bad days, they loved stars because they could study the constellations dotting the sky instead of the bruises dotting their skin. They could see Calypso, the Lia and the Jahde, even the Requiem, all dancing across a purple and navy sky. They would whisper their stories, the ones they remembered their parents telling them. They remembered little else.

   Today happened to a bad day. The little bastard Drisine, Cato, had given them a bloody nose and a bit more than an aching bruise or two. Their head pounded as they curled up in their hideaway, rocking back and forth as they desperately whispered the myth of Calypso and her army, their voice breaking as they turned the wrong way and was faced with excruciating pain. They bit their lip harshly, knowing a whimper could alert the other children, who were certainly prowling about nearby, to their location. So silent came their tears.

   It was Cato’s fault, but the Headmx blamed them. Ze had called out the names of the children who would finally leave the wretched place- the ones who were wanted. Zir eyes had landed on them, the only child to stay more than three years, so full of pity, and called their name, saying, “It’s alright. Someone will want you eventually.” Their heart, so broken already from failed attempts to make someone love them, had shattered at that simple phrase. And, of course, Cato had just had to make it worse.

   “No-one could ever want you!” he taunted, dancing around them with his friends as soon as the Headmx had left. “How could they want someone as normal as you, when they could have someone like me?” To emphasize his point, the Drisine transformed into a shimmering bird, his multicolored feathers brushing the floor as he hovered in midair. They bowed their head towards the floor, tears threatening to spill from their eyes. Cato has grabbed their chin in an effort to make them look at him, having turned back into his usual form.

   But in that moment, their eyes saw death, and they panicked. With a terrified screech, they leaped away from the shapeshifter into the body behind them, sending both tumbling to the ground. Another young Drisine was beneath them, his bright blue eyes alight with worry, as if he had simply been caught into the unfolding tension. He squirmed beneath their weight as they rolled off of the child, clutching their wrist, which was twisted painfully in a direction that definitely was not anatomically correct. Cato let out a harsh, jarring laugh as he watched on.

   “Who would ever want you?” he asked again. “No-one. You’re never going to be loved, never going to be wanted, never going to know friendship. You should throw yourself into space, and stop wasting our oxygen, you worthless orphan” he hissed as he stalked towards them, his eyes narrowing into slits. In the blink of an eye, Cato was a huge, looming, scaled beast. They froze, and in their eyes, they saw a reality of another universe.

   A bigger scaled beast stood before them, swaying back and forth as it slid closer to them. It spoke, though they heard no words emitted from its fanged mouth. The beast stared them down, almost as if gazing into their soul. Without warning, it pulled back, prepared to strike them. It lunged forward, and-

    -And suddenly they were back to their body, their reality. The scaled beast stood before them, and without thinking, they leapt at the deadly creature with a blood-curdling screech as their fists began flying, pummeling the beast, who slowly morphed back into Cato. He was crying, screaming at them to get off him and to stop hitting him, but they couldn’t. Their fists were acting of their accord, only trying to make sure that deadly beast that wanted something from them would never strike them. Something wet dripped down their face and they realized they were crying, too. From there it was all a blur. They vaguely recognized the sound of the Headmx’s nasal voice, someone tugging them off of Cato, and being thrown into solitary.

   Its dark and cramped quarters painted a feeling of misery in their mind. They hated solitary. Albeit, it was the only place they were truly safe, where they could curl up in a ball and scream until their lungs gave out, it was lonely. At least in the Commons, they could feel the gazes of the others. They could feel their touches, feel their attention. In solitary, they craved it. In solitary, they went half insane, almost unable to fit their fist inside their mouth to keep from screaming loud enough to shatter the stars. In solitary, they knew just how lonely they really were.

   When they were let out, they found Cato and two of his friends waiting for them. They were quick, one holding them, one keeping them silent, and Cato having the honor of punishing them. Silent as they were, their eyes held all of the screams they could not voice, all of the anger and fear and confusion and longing for someone to tell them why they kept having these visions.

   The entire time, Cato kept calling them the “Unwanted One.”

   He punched them hard enough for them to cough up blood, their eyes watering at the immense pain. He laughed out of the corner of his mouth because cackling like he normally did was not only too painful at the state they put him in, but the Headmx would hear him. He yanked their chin up to peer into their eyes.

   “Tell me, how could anyone want you? You can’t even hold your own in a fight,” he teased.

   Biting the hand of the one who covered their mouth, they were able to spit out, “Funny, because they same could be said of you earlier,” before Cato’s eyes filled with anger and he whacked his arm across their face so hard they saw stars. They felt cold blood run from their nose, spilling across their lips and onto the floor. Cato judged them worthy of mercy and motioning to his partners in crime to let them go. They fell limp to the ground, barely catching themselves before Cato yanked them back up by the hem of their white tunic, now stained by their unsightly blood.

   Burning inside them was fear, pain, anger- and something foreign, yet familiar all the same. Their mouth began to move, began to form words which became sentences which became verses which became truth. They muttered the myth of Calypso as Cato continued to bludgeon them with his fists, blind to their tears and their fragileness.

   “And the holy woman breathed fire upon the land, ravaging the fallen with the purity of her soul. She screamed, ‘Begone, wretched creature of darkness! Leave the goodness of this world, retire to your universe and be content to rule over those who have strayed.’” A punch landed on their hip. “The beast, which stood as tall as the heavens themselves, only laughed. Its voice shook the very ground, and all but Calypso fell.” Their stomach. “She alone stood fast against the mighty but terrible creature before her, and she alone had the strength to stop it.” The right of their jaw. “From the depths of her heart she brought out a strange, glittering stone. The monster tilted its head, its eyes locking on the mineral.” The left of their head. “‘Is this what you seek, traveler of the corrupted worlds?’ she asked. The beast hissed, transforming into one familiar to the valiant warriors. It slid closer, speaking from its mind to all those concerned.” Cato’s knee landed in their vital region. “‘Give me the Stone, darling, and you can end this. You can save your people, your friends, and yourself. Wouldn’t you like to play hero?’ It said.” His knee landed in their bruised stomach, and they spit out blood again. “The silver eyes of the goddess-woman lit up in anger. ‘The only true way to save the ones I love is by protecting the Gazer Stone.’ The creature snarled, whipping its tail towards nearby bystanders. In an instant, they fell to the ground, to rise back up no longer. Calypso shrieked as the beast turned its gaze back towards her. Swallowing, she made her decision and asked, ‘You want this?’ The creature nodded, sliding ever so closer.” Cato’s fist struck their head once more, and all at once, their world began to go black.

   “‘Then come and get it.’”

   When they had woken, they hid here, tending to their physical wounds, hoping their emotional ones wouldn’t hurt as much tomorrow. Looking at the stars, they prayed for the first time in their life. They prayed they would remember their ever elusive memories of the past. They prayed that tomorrow, perhaps they wouldn’t have to talk to Cato or his stupid friends. They prayed that the stars would take them away from this awful place, heal them, and make them someone worthy of life, worthy of love. Most of all, they prayed that someone would want them.

    Someone.

WOOOOO HOW ABOUT THAT AnGsT? As much as I wanted to write something with the Sides, Cal’s past/origin is SUPER important to the overall story I’m slowly flushing out to its glory. So is the myth of Calypso ;)

I hope you like the word vomit so far :D Thanks for all the lovely comments and encouragement!! :D:D:D:D:D

Tag List (if you wanted to be added/ taken off, let me know and I’ll be happy to do so for you):

@asofterfan

@alix-the-skeleton

@hufflepuffsscrewdriver

@v-blue-writer

@sanderssidesstuff

#sanders sides #sanders sides au #origin story #Calrex the Pirate #sci-fi #au #sic-fi au #galaxy #intergalatic orphanages

[saikostories]

MHA - In for The Long Haul pt1

His head hurt. He was pretty sure he had a concussion, a mild one, but a concussion nonetheless. He groaned in pain. His arms ached and he wearily sighed when he realized that they were strung up above his head by chains. He wasn't sure how long he had been out, but based on the chafing on his wrists, it had been awhile. He noted that his legs were free, but that hardly did him any good in this position.

He was sitting against a wall made of stones that dug into his back. It was pitch black, so he couldn't make out any details, but the damp chilliness of the air around him made him believe he was underground. There was a throbbing, pulsating buzz that irritated him, but he wasn't sure if that was just from his head or something in the room.

He tried to change positions into something more comfortable, but was pulled back by an onslaught of dizziness. With his head reeling it was almost impossible to think, but he forced himself to breathe and just calm down. If he wanted to get out of this situation he would have to keep his head clear, or as clear as he could. He tried to think about what had happened, but everything was a foggy mess of clipped and hazy images that didn't make sense in the context they appeared in. The last thing he remembered was walking back to the U.A. dorms from his mother's house. He had felt another presence then…nothing. It was fuzzy.

He tried to summon One for All, but an onslaught of dizziness wracked his body, making him want to vomit. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on clearing his head.

His head grew heavy as if lead were pooling inside of it, dragging him down into the void of unconsciousness. The pull was strong and he fought against it, knowing that being caught unaware in this situation would only hurt him in the future. Unfortunately, the concussion was merciless and it ravaged his mind, forcing him into submission. His eyes slid closed and he slumped, embracing the oncoming darkness.

Far too soon, he was jerked awake by a stinging sensation. It wracked his nerves, forcing them into overdrive. His body spasmed, twitching as muscles were forced to expand and contract repeatedly without his consent. In comparison to other types of pain he has endured, this wasn't painful so much as it left a tingling sensation all throughout his body rendering him exhausted and weak. However, as the shock continued it started to fray his nerves raw, leaving him in a numb pain that slowly evolved from bearable to excruciating.

He struggled to breath normally as the shock continued, only managing a few unsteady breathes before gasping in pain.

All too suddenly lights flooded the room, leaving him blind as his eyes forced themselves to adjust to the brightness.

There was still that incessant buzzing sound, but blearily he was able to make out a sickly sweet voice, "Oh, look. He's awake…Ika, you can stop the shock therapy now, there will plenty of time for that later."

All too suddenly the shocks stopped, but the lingering pain and fatigue remained, causing him to pant while taking in harsh breaths of air. He still couldn't see very well, the harsh light sending rivulets of pain through his eyes. Everything was blurry, but he thought he made out two figures standing before him.

Someone forcibly grabbed his chin, turning his face upwards; he opened his eyes as much as he could in order to send a glare at the stranger. With that same sickly sweet voice, she purred, "Hello, Midoriya-kun~." Her eyes were yellow orbs brimming with dark delight. "Now that you're awake, the real fun can begin."

It was her voice, he realized, the chipper tone that promised pain, that sent him on edge more than anything. She sounded too happy, delighted even, to be in her position. And her eyes, they were striking, poised with a playfulness that hid her killer intent. He didn't like the giddiness she expressed and the overall daunting feeling that spread throughout him, but he refused to show his trepidation. He wouldn't break, no matter what they did, he refused.

Inko didn't know what to do. She had sent her baby boy home after he had come to visit for the weekend and the next thing she knew she was getting a phone call asking her the last time she had seen him. That was Monday night though, and it was nearing the weekend.

She sat on her couch, eating away her stress and watching the news. U.A. had tried to keep Izuku's disappearance on the down-low to avoid the press and not instigate the people who took her son. She had been against this in the beginning, wanting everyone out looking for her son, but relented when Aizawa had talked to her about the potential consequences if the public caught wind of this kidnapping.

She wanted to find her son, but the implications that exposing his kidnapping might push the kidnappers to be more drastic sent her thoughts reeling. So she sat watching the news, hoping she would get the phone call telling her they found her son, but it never came.

There was a loud knock at her door. She jumped, then upon realizing what a knock at the door meant, she ran to open the door.

All Might, or rather, Toshinori stood, looking haggard, at her doorstep. He had been coming over more and more lately. Inko knew he felt guilty over her son's disappearance, but she had insisted that it wasn't his fault. And, really, it wasn't. Izuku had been walking home late on Sunday because of her. She had kept him later than she should have and he had decided to walk home, saying he would be fine. He wasn't.

"Don't just stand there. Come in." She ushered him in and he silently obliged. Once he had settled in he looked down ,not able to meet Inko's eyes. Inko's sighed, "Any news?" She knew the answer, but she was still hopeful.

Toshinori met her gaze with a pain riddled look, "...No. We still have no idea as to the whereabouts of young Midoriya."

She nodded sadly, she had been expecting this, but still. She just wanted to know that her baby boy was okay. "Well," She looked at Toshinori, a spark filling her green eyes, "We just need to keep looking. I know my son, and he's a fighter. I bet he's giving those villains that took him a run for their money as we speak." She turned her head and Toshinori could have sworn that he had seen tears glisten at the corner of her eyes.

He nodded, before verbally confirming her words, "I couldn't have said it better myself." He felt as if that was a lame thing to say, but at the moment he felt incredibly lame. In his current condition, there wasn't much he was able to do besides offer comfort.

To say Ochako was worried would be the understatement of the century. She was pacing back and forth in the commons of the dorm, biting her nails, head down, as she tried to stifle her cries.

It had almost been a full week since Midoriya had gone missing and she couldn't stand idle while he was gone. He could be hurt. Her pacing back and forth picked up speed and she started mumbling to herself. It was a habit that she unconsciously started ever since they had learned that Midoriya wasn't just skipping class and no one actually knew where he was. Nobody blamed her for it, they were all equally as worried, save for Bakugou who just seemed angry at his disappearance.

"Uraraka." Iida put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her in her track, "Maybe you should sit down. We're all worried, but working yourself up over it isn't going to help anyone." He was trying to cover up his own worry over the situation.

"But Iida—" she cried frantically, "What if he's hurt? What if he needs our help?"

Todoroki, who had been quiet thus far, turned to her, "Standing here, pacing and worrying over it isn't going to help him." His voice was deadpan, but there was a shadowed pain in his eyes, "We don't have any leads as to where he could be and we were instructed not to leave campus."

Ochako didn't look convinced, "That didn't stop you when Bakugou was taken—"

Something fierce overtook Todoroki's eyes, "That was different," a look almost akin to shame washed over him, "Yaoyorozu placed a tracker on one of them…We knew the general vicinity of where they had taken him. We know nothing this time." He turned away, obviously upset with the reality of the situation.

"Deku." Ochako looked down sullenly. She knew he was right, there was nothing they could do at the moment.

As much as they wanted to help, there was nothing they could do. For once, they were forced to leave the situation in the hands of the adults. They knew that the clock was ticking though and they didn't know how much time they had left.

***

It had been forty-four days. One month and two weeks. Ochako couldn't believe it had been almost two months since Deku had gone missing, since she had last seen his smiling face. He had told her he would see her later.

Liar.

She shook her head before forcing a smile on her face as she left her dorm room. She sent a quick text to Iida saying she was ready, and would meet him in the commons before they both headed to school.

Even if they were still on U.A. grounds, since Deku had gone missing, the buddy system had been implemented for all students. Most of the students weren't happy with the new rule, but understood the reasoning for it. Still, there were a few students who were against it completely—mainly Bakugou.

Ochako didn't mind it as she liked the company, but she still had moments when she found it annoying. She felt bad whenever she got annoyed with it though, reminding herself why, exactly, they had had to put forth the new rule in the first place: because Deku had gone missing.

She made her way down to the common area to meet Iida. He was waiting, as always, for her by the door. She waved to him when he looked her way, "Hey, Iida, ready to go?" She didn't wait for an answer as she started to walk towards the door.

The weather had been off and on for the past week. Yesterday had been a picture perfect day, with a clear sky and moderate winds. Today, though, the clouds loomed low, a dark presence that made itself known through low rumblings and cold drizzling rain. To Uraraka, today was a perfect representation of her inner mood, dull and lifeless.

Normally, it'd take a good five minutes to reach the school from the dorms, but with the terrible weather they ran the entire way, meaning it only took Iida and Ochako roughly two minutes. While they both had umbrellas, they had somehow managed to get drenched on the way to school. Ochako blamed it on the harsh wind that had whipped the ice-like rain into them. With sullen expressions etched onto their faces, they made their way to class 1-A.

Usually, one would be able to hear the antics coming from class 1-A from all the way down the hall. It was a rowdy class filled with aspiring heroes, so it wasn't uncommon to hear them from down the hall; however, lately, their cheerful banter had withered away until an almost gloomy aura settled in the classroom.

Ochako and Iida were always early, but when they entered the classroom, there were only a handful of students missing. Ochako glanced at Deku's desk, noting how bare and sad it looked. She missed seeing Deku in class, mumbling to himself about hero statistics and, more often than not, scribbling down notes in his messy scrawl. His continued absence was like knife that drove itself into the very core of the class.

"Hey Iida—" Kirishima stopped when he got a good look at them. "Why are you sopping wet? Didn't you bring an umbrella?" Kirishima took in the drenched forms of Iida and Ochako as they stood in the doorway.

"Ah, yes, well you see…" Iida tried, and failed to explain how the wind had rendered their rain gear useless, but Ochako tuned him out. Instead, she opted to quietly take her seat.

She didn't like this. How could anything ever be okay if Deku wasn't around? How could they sit here doing nothing while he was off somewhere, no doubt suffering? She felt a fierce pressure at her eyes. She blinked, willing the tears to go away. Crying wasn't going to help anyone; crying wasn't going to help Deku.

A tap on her shoulder caught her off guard, "Ochako-chan? Are you okay?" Tsuyu's concerned voice brought her back to the present.

She looked up with tears brimming her brown eyes, "Y-yeah, I'm fine…just," her gaze wandered to Deku's desk.

Tsuyu, understanding what she meant, nodded solemnly. "You know the Pro's are doing everything they can to find him." She paused, before affirming her previous statement. "They will find him."

Ochako didn't answer, letting the silence hang between them. She knew the Pro's were working hard to find him, but that wasn't good enough. She didn't need people looking, promising her they would find him. She needed them to find him.

As the rest of the students ambled into class, their usually enthusiastic personalities were subdued. The classroom, no matter how full it was in reality, felt empty.

Aizawa entered the classroom, looking worse for wear, and all eyes turned on him. He was early. That never happened. Especially as of late. Aizawa was known for being late, and ever since he had been assigned to one of the search parties looking for Deku, he had come to class even later than usual. His mood had steadily decreased with his obvious lack of sleep, but today was different. Today, he had shown up five minutes before the last bell rang.

He didn't acknowledge the class, just walked forward with a forced calmness. He was stiff, exhausted, even more so than usual. Everything about his demeanor spelt tension and pain, like a weight had been pressed on him that was dragging him down.

Something wasn't right.

He was facing the class, eyes intent on glaring at everyone in the room.

No one said a word, this was unusual and so unlike their stoic teacher.

"So…" He sighed, it felt so heavy. Everyone waited with baited breath for what he had to say.

Shouta's quirk was best suited best for stealth and search missions. Those types of things never garnered much media attention, which suited him just fine seeing as he hated to be in the public's eye anyhow. The media only ever made things worse. They exploited every piece of information they obtained, and more often than not they ruined things. Whether that be the privacy of someone or the integrity of another, the media held no qualms stomping over people to get a good scoop. It was for that reason that Shoutaconsidered the media to be just as much a villain as a local thief.

Midoriya's disappearance was something that the school had tried to keep under wraps, both for the sake of the boy and for the reputation of U.A. They already had one student kidnapped during the year. The news would have a field day if they found out another had been taken, even if he hadn't been taken from school grounds or during the school week. The media didn't care about those details.

Shoutahad thought that keeping something like this from the media was a recipe for disaster—it was bound to be found eventually. The backlash they would receive for trying to cover it up would surely destroy them.

Naomasa, a detective who was close friends with Toshinori, was able to help them keep this information from privy eyes extremely well. Shoutahad been surprised at how well Naomasa had been able to help the Pro heroes in their search for Midoriya.

If it weren't for him, they never would have gotten the location to where Midoriya was being kept.

They had only sent a few Pro's. Sending too many would have been suspicious. The location had been too public to elicit a large scale investigation. What they had found hadn't been a pretty sight.

Shoutahad seen a lot of gruesome things in his time as a Pro hero; he had seen the worst side of humanity and it sickened him to his core, but he had always been able to maintain his composure. The breaking point for him, though, had been when it was his student who was on the receiving end of this cruelty.

Seeing Midoriya, bloodied and limp, slumped against a wall with his left arm shackled to said wall had shook him to his core. He had looked lifeless, and for a moment, Shoutawondered if he was dead, before he saw the slightest rise in his chest. In that moment, rules be damned, Shoutawanted to kill whoever had dared to harm one of his students.

They—Shoutaand two other lesser known Pro heroes—had been able to secure Midoriya and had called in for backup without any issue; Midoriya had been in a near catatonic state, not reacting to any outside stimulus. It made removing him from the bonds that held him easy, but it was unnerving to think of what that meant for the boy's mental state.

The entire ordeal had left him drained in more ways than one. He dragged a hand down his face, wearily sighing as he realized this was only the beginning.

He took out his cell phone and started making phone calls. Today was going to be a hectic day.

It hurt. Everything hurt, but it was a foggy, far away pain. Wait… pain wasn't right. Ached was more precise, because if he thought about it, this wasn't pain. No, he had endured the monstrosity that was actual, tangible pain and this couldn't hold a candle to that. That had been agony, a sharp, slicing sensation that demanded his attention; Compared to that, this was more like a whimper.

Right now, he felt relatively good. Relative meaning that his mind, at the moment, wasn't trying to split him in two with the searing, stabbing sensation he had grown accustomed to. Nor was his body boiling with a burning fire that he didn't believe actually existed. At the moment, his mind felt listless and his body felt rather dull, as if everything were toned down, submerged in lukewarm water, leaving him with nothin but a far away ache. A low, thrumming ache that kept him grounded whilst simultaneously dragging him into the depths of his own despair.

He heard sounds and felt sensations come into being that felt out of place. Warbled, disjointed, like they were coming from underwater or far away…distorted, but painfully familiar. People were talking, mumbling about something that he felt he should know. He should know, should understand them, but they were too far away and the gray unbridled fog was drowning out their voices, leaving him to feel lost and alone. He didn't like it. He felt trapped, stuck inside the fog of his own muddled self.

He didn't like it.

A ghostly touch wisped throughout his body, sending chills down in tendrils. The phantom chills slowly transformed. An itch raked across his skin that slowly morphed into a burning sensation. The burning was bearable at first, steadily rising in degrees until he was thrashing, trying to escape the fire in his veins. The scorching, flaring pain was becoming too much. The pain tore at him, no longer content with being in the background of his mind. It hurt; it burned. It burned. ItburneditburneditburnedItBurned.

Everything blurred in a haze of ash and smoke. It burned his eyes and he started to wheeze from the embers embedded in his lungs. It wasn't real, he knew that, but he could feel it. He could feel everything. How could this not be real?

He was scrambling in a panicked frenzy, searching for something, anything to ease his worries. He was on fire, he could feel the heat, see the red flames, smell the smoke and ash. He heard the flickering sparks of the flames as they licked at him, savoring his anguish. It was too real to just be in his head. The smoke curled around him like a snake, squeezing the air from his lungs, crushing him. Everything was black; He was trapped by the opaque gaseous substance.

He could hear them, his friends, his mom, everyone, burning. Burning because of him. It was his fault. Hisfaulthisfaulthisfault. They stared at him, those eyes, demonic in their accusations. He thought he knew them. He had thought they were friendly eyes. He thought they were friends…so why? Why was it him who was burning everything? It was a trick, it had to be. There was no way he would do that. Todoroki was his friend. So, why? Why did it hurt so much to see those flames, angry and explosive, protruding from his friend's left side.

Blackness burned the edges of his consciousness. He was scared. He wasn't sure why, but this dreadful feeling of horror flung itself at him. Suddenly he wasn't seeing the fire, he was staring into the faces of his mom, and Uraraka, and Iida, and Toshinori, and… and Todoroki, but they were disfigured.

They were melting from the fire, their skin was wax and their eyes were voids of dole nothing. They were crying out to him, pleading for him to save them. Asking why he let this happen. Why couldn't he save them. They were blaming him. And He…Todoroki was laughing. His face was melting, causing his demented smile to be all the more disturbing. His left side was a burning inferno of white hot flames that whipped around, lashing at everything. Why was he laughing? He thought they were friends, but his wicked grin promised only pain and torment.

Despair. This was despair. Despairdespairdespair.

They were taunting him because it was his fault. He was weak and nothing. He was a failure. He couldn't even save himself, let alone save anyone else. They knew that, used it as leverage to shake his will. They wanted him to break and he was teetering off the edge, holding on with all his strength.

His thoughts rampaged. Too many for him to distinguish, not that he was too keen on listening to his thoughts. As of late they had only served to haunt him, to cause him even more anguish.

It destroyed him.

He wanted to give in, but something kept him from releasing his grip on his sanity. He couldn't give up. There was a reason, but… what was it?

There was a beeping noise, it had been faint, but now it rang clearly. It echoed in his mind and he felt like it was important, like it was signalling something that he should be aware of, but he wasn't. He wasn't aware of anything but his increasing panic. The beeping grew louder, a jarring screech that infiltrated his mind. It drove him crazy. It relentlessly drove into him, hammering through his skull in a steady rhythm.

Once.

Twice.

It continued. His thoughts raced around his mind, entangling it with a ribbon of excruciating thoughts. It sliced his mind like a thin razor, lacerating him with sharp precision. He couldn't bear it any longer. The incessant beeping racked his mind, intermingling with a familiar buzzing noise. It was too much. He couldn't take it anymore. The noise, the haunting jeers of his own subconscious…the fire.

It hurt.

It hurt.

He hurt.

Everything fell apart and his mind ceased all processes; he screamed.

Midoriya Inko was stubborn lady. She was slow to anger and very forgiving. She didn't like confrontation and often became flustered when embarrassed. If there was one thing that Inko was above all else it was a caring mother. She fretted over her only child like he was the last good thing on earth, and to her, he was. There was nothing she wasn't willing to do for him. All she wanted was for him to be happy.

She remembered how ecstatic he had been when he was accepted into U.A. and how nervous she had been because her baby boy was growing up. She recalled how he would always come home with a new injury, but would always be wearing that same bright smile that made her heart melt. As long as he was happy and safe, she could bear with any injuries he wore. However, when she got that phone call, what seemed like ages ago, asking her if she knew the whereabouts of her son, her world came crashing down on her.

She had worried non-stop. Not willing to rest until her son was found. The first week had been the worst. Her nerves had been frayed and she was on end, paranoid about every stray noise she heard. It wasn't healthy, she had known that, and yet, she couldn't have cared less. Her precious baby was gone; nothing else mattered but finding her son.

By the second week, the reality of the situation hit her. Whoever had taken her son had done so with a purpose. If anything, that knowledge seemed to ignite a fire under her and she was determined to do all she could to help aid the heroes in their search for her son.

Her anxiousness only increased as the days did. Still, she never gave up hope that her son would be found. She wouldn't allow herself to even think about any other possibility; Izuku would be fine and all would be right in the world.

It wasn't until a month and a half had passed that her hope had been rewarded. She remembered the moment in a deafening clarity. It had been early morning, before even the sun had risen, when her phone rang. She had answered it, a little annoyed at being woken up at such an early hour. When she heard the voice on the other line she froze. Her eyes went wide, a green pool of unfiltered relief. She nearly dropped the phone in her shock, but caught herself at the last second.

It took her less than five minutes to be ready and racing out the door.

They found him. He's alive.

Those two thoughts consumed her mind the entire way to the hospital. She didn't care about anything else at that moment, only that her precious baby boy had finally been found.

She arrived at the hospital in record time, her appearance was horridly disheveled, but that had hardly mattered at the moment. She needed to see her son.

She had been told he was in surgery—her heart dropped, a cold stone nestling uneasily in the depths of her stomach.

Her baby was in surgery? Why did he need surgery? What was wrong with him? These thoughts had swirled in her head like a cyclone, twisting and growing in strength as all her worry and stress slowly bored upon her. A nurse had to come and calm her down.

After she had calmed down, the nurse had given her an approximation on how long until she would be able to see her son. Inko had nodded her head wordlessly.

She had sat for hours in the waiting room, hoping that she would be able to see her baby boy soon.

When she had finally been allowed to see her son, she had tried to prepare herself for what she would see when she entered the room. She had been told that he had been given Benzo, which was essentially a minor tranquilizer, to help him sleep so she shouldn't expect him to wake up for a while.

Inko wasted no time in entering the room, eyes immediately locking onto her son's form on the bed. She gasped, tears welling at her eyes, at the sight.

Izuku was pale, paler than she had ever seen him, and he looked so much thinner. His right foot was in a cast. She had been told that they had to re-break his ankle to set it correctly, but that it would make a full recovery. Her eyes wandered to his right arm, which had been casted and bound to his chest as to keep it from being jostled. She gulped, remembering how the doctor had told her, following his operation, the condition of his arm—the damage had been extensive. They weren't sure if he would ever be able to regain use of it.

She found a chair and brought it up next to his bed. She sat there for hours until she eventually dozed off.

She had been half asleep in a chair when she heard the scream. It was ragged, coarse, and the utter primitive nature of it sounded so distressed.

The heart monitor was going crazy, signaling to its occupant's elevated heart rate. She was awake in a second, franticly gazing over the form of her son. He looked worse than she had ever seen him before.

His breathing was heavy and labored, even with an oxygen mask on. His eyes were shut tight, as if he were in pain. He was thrashing about as much as his condition allowed, which wasn't really very much. She blinked away her exhaustion, and ran up next to her baby boy. She didn't know what to do. He had been resting peacefully due to the Benzo the nurses had given him earlier, but it had obviously worn off now. It struck a terrible chord with her, seeing her baby look to be in so much pain and her not being able to assuage him.

She was barely aware of the nurses rushing in. It wasn't until one of the nurses escorted her out of the room, telling her in a calm voice that she would be allowed in as soon as they had calmed him down. All Inko could think was that her precious baby was hurting, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing she could do to ease his pain. She felt helpless.

"W-what happened?" she questioned in a panicked voice, pointing at her son's room. She wanted, needed, to know what was going on. After a month of not knowing anything, she felt a inexplicable need to know everything that happened to him now.

The nurse sighed before looking at her with woe filled eyes. She was a young nurse, inexperienced with these kinds of things. She couldn't help but let a little of her own frustrations and sadness, masked as anger, slip through. "The Benzo wore off and he became lucid is my guess. He was having a night terror."

Inko sniffed, a few tears running down her face. She had never been good at controlling her emotions, and now more than ever, she wasn't able to reign in the torrent of emotion that stampeded through her. Her baby had been through so much and now, now his own mind was against him.

The nurse gave her a sympathetic look. "We're going to give him another dose of mild Benzo. Once he's settled down you can go back in to see him." She tried to give Inko a cheerful smile, but it fell when she caught sight of the tears falling down Inko's face.

"I-I feel like a terrible mother…" Inko looked downcast as she said it. She felt horrible. She knew that it wasn't her fault, but Izuku had gone missing on his way back to the dorms from her house. She had kept him later than he was supposed to stay because she missed him and now…now he had had to endure something terrible because of it.

"Hey now," The nurse, Jackie, she realized upon looking at the nurse's name tag, put her hand on Inko's shoulder. "You're here, right now, staying by his side, and he needs that more than anything. He needs to know he's safe, and that there are people he can rely on." She paused shortly, giving Inko time to let her words sink in. "I know you think it's not enough, but it is. Being here for him is going to help him dramatically in a way no medicine will be able to do."

Inko gave Jackie a slight smile before nodding her head. No matter what happened from here on out, she was going to be there for Izuku every step of the way.

Jackie smiled at her once again before going back into Izuku's room to check his vitals now that he was sedated again. Inko didn't like that they had to sedate him, but she was told it was the only way his body would be able to heal. It pained her to know that her baby had been hurt to the point where he needed to be sedated in order to rest. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the extent of the damage done to him. She wasn't sure she would be able to handle it.

When Jackie returned, Inko had calmed herself down a bit and was waiting anxiously outside of Izuku's room. Jackie told her he was resting again, and that she could go back in if she wanted to. That was all the confirmation Inko needed to race into the room and find her spot right beside Izuku's bed.

"The Benzo should last for a few hours, but if you see him stirring at all, just press the call button and someone will come and check up on him." Jackie had taken on a more professional tone now that she had a patient to deal with. Inko nodded mutely as Jackie left to go about her other duties.

In truth, Inko was beyond exhausted, but she couldn't sleep. How could she, knowing her baby was so lost within himself that he needed to be put to sleep with sedatives and medications just for his body to heal properly? He looked so worn down, as if he were dead. That terrified her. She could see the rings, deep and prominent, under his eyes, signaling to his lack of sleep. His pale complexion and atrophied muscles told her that wherever he had been must have been dark and constricting.

Her heart clenched at the thought of how scared he must have been. It was a thought she couldn't bear to think about. How could someone do this to a kid? Her baby was barely even sixteen and already he had faced horrors most heroes only had a glimpse of in their careers. It just wasn't fair.

She heaved a sigh as she rested her face in her hands, trying not to cry. She was vaguely aware of someone entering the room, but didn't pay any mind to them, too lost in her own thoughts to acknowledge the presence of anyone else.

"How is he?" A voice called out to her tentatively. She sighed at the voice before turning to meet the owner.

"He's…" She looked away, not willing to say anything to the boys hero.

Toshinori took Inko's lack of response as a bad sign. He couldn't help but feel as though he had let the boy down. It had taken them almost a month and a half to find him and when they did…the condition he was in was not good. He was stable, but he had been told that the damage was extensive. It had made him physically ill to imagine the state young Midoriya had been in when they got to him.

He stood awkwardly next to Inko. "He looks to be resting nicely now…" he ventured, not sure how else to start a conversation.

Inko finally tore her gaze away from her son and looked at Toshinori with big, sad green eyes that reminded him so much of young Midoriya's eyes. She sighed before turning away from his sight, "Yeah…a little while ago they gave him Benzo."

Toshinori bit back a gasp at that knowledge. He shouldn't have been surprised, after going through such a traumatic ordeal, it would be odd if he didn't need some form of medication to keep him calm and subdued, but for something like this to have happened to young Midoriya, who wasn't even a pro hero yet, it made his heart clench. "I-I…See."

"…Yeah, he," she paused, "He was having a panic attack of some sort. I-I saw him start to heave and I—it was heartbreaking." She started to sob, not able to contain her sorrow when reciting the terror she had seen prior to Toshinori's visit. "He was still asleep, but I could-I could feel it. He was terrified. I don't know what they did to him, but he was scared. He must have been so scared. All alone—"

"Hey," Toshinori cut her off, overwhelmed with a need to calm down the grieving woman, and paralyzed by the knowledge of his mentee's state of mind. "Calm down. You need to breathe, okay?" He put a calming hand on her shoulder.

"Okay…" Inko tried to breathe calmly, but it was hard. She was never one to have good control over her emotions, a trait she had passed down to Izuku. Right now that inability to reign in her feelings was causing her unbearable strife.

They stayed quiet for quite awhile. Listening to the rhythm of the heart monitor as it steadily beeped. She prayed that her son would wake soon, and that the damage that had been done wasn't irreparable.

***

Tenya didn't know what to think.

Midoriya had been found…but it had taken them six weeks to find him. Who knows what could have happened to his friend in that amount of time. Just thinking about it unnerved him; he knew what villain's were capable of, what they could do. His brother was a prime example.

He didn't want to think the same thing could have happened to one of his friends, but here he was, faced with that reality: Midoriya had been captured by villains and had been kept for six weeks. He hadn't been able to do anything. He hated it. He was supposed to be a hero in training, and he had been able to do nothing, absolutely nothing.

He felt useless.

He was shaken from his thoughts when Uraraka tapped him on the shoulder, "Hey, Iida?"

He blinked, in an effort to clear his mind, and regarded her, "Yes, Uraraka?"

"Are you okay? You've been really quiet all day, since homeroom…" She left the implication up in the air.

"I'm fine…" He wanted to believe that what he said was the truth, but the look Uraraka gave him showed that she doubted him, and he couldn't help but agree with her. "It's a lot to take in, is all." This time he wasn't lying. It was a lot lot take in.

The mien of the classroom had been heavy this morning. Everyone had been in a bad mood, it seemed as though the unfavorable weather made its way into the classroom, with the invisible dark cloud that lingered in the room.

Then Aizawa had showed up to class five minutes early, earlier than he had ever been, and the entire class had felt the shift in mood.

Aizawa was never early, and he had never had that look on his face. It was pensive and calculated, with an exhaustion ironed into his sharp eyes, but what had really unsettled the class was the haunted visage his eyes held.

His eyes had bored into everyone, making it clear that he demanded their attention. He had sighed. It was a heavy, exasperated sound. Everyone had waited eagerly, if a bit hesitant for him to say something. When he had, nobody knew what to do. It had shaken everyone to their core.

Midoriya had been found.

There was a beat where no one moved.

All hell broke loose after that.

Everyone had erupted into a frenzy of cheers, until he continued and told them the condition Midoriya was in. The cheerfulness had fizzled out into an expanse of worried questions and solacing remarks. Some had been concerned over Midoriya's condition, while others—mainly Uraraka—had been exuding nothing but positivity. She had been determined that he would be fine, that he was fine, because he was Deku.

Tenya had thought otherwise. Midoriya was tough, he was resilient to just about everything, and Tenya admired that, but six weeks was a long time to be held captive for. He wasn't sure if he even wanted to know what had happened to his friend. He wasn't sure he'd be able to take it if something irreparable had been done to him—it would be too similar to his brother.

He shook his head of such thoughts. It wouldn't do him any good to think about something that he didn't yet know the extent of.

He glanced around the lunchroom, and he took in the muted, false cheeriness of the conversations going on around him. Uraraka was engaged in a conversation with Todoroki and Tsuyu, but it seemed strained, like she was trying to reign in her emotions.

Tenya was about to join them when he noticed Monoma sauntering towards them. Uraraka and Todoroki seemed to notice as well, because they halted their conversation, and gave a wary in his direction.

Monoma had his usual smug grin plastered on his face. Everyone at the table—Iida, Uraraka, Todoroki and Tsuyu—tensed, a foreboding aura hanging in the air. "I hear they found your classmate."

Tenya nodded hesitantly. Monoma had never been supportive in the past towards class 1-A, and Tenya didn't trust him. After all, Monoma had been the first person to tell them that the school would have to replace Midoriya's spot in class if he wasn't found soon. While that had been a legitimate concern, Tenya had found that comment to be unwarranted, and thus, as class president, he had reported Monoma to the staff.

Since then, Monoma hadn't bothered them.

Monoma continued, not caring about the warning glare he was being given by Todoroki, "Six weeks is a long time to be held captive, especially by some no-name villains. I would have expected better from someone in class 1-A. Aren't you guys supposed to be the best? I bet if it were someone from class 1-B, then-"

Todoroki cut him off, "Leave." His tone was cutting; the intonation of it was sharp and threatening. It wasn't a suggestion. It was a demand. It was low and menacing, a lingering threat.

Monoma took a step back, but didn't stop, "What? I'm just saying that for someone who is supposed to be-"

Todoroki stood up, a glare with so much heat behind it Tenya could practically feel the fire. His voice had dropped an octave, "Leave. Now. I won't ask again."

Monoma took a step back, a timid look flitted in his eyes, like a wounded animal, before returning to normal. He huffed and turned heel and walked away.

After Monoma left, Todoroki cooled down, and went back to his seat. Tenya turned to face his friends, who all wore the same indignant expression as he did. He couldn't believe that Monoma would stoop so low as to make light of a classmate having been captured for such a long time. Uraraka was fuming, a dangerous visage replaced her usually cheery one.

"How dare he say something like that." Uraraka was trembling slightly from her anger. "Deku…He's- He's strong, stronger than most people in our class…So those villains, they must have been really strong if they were able to keep him for so long. Monoma doesn't-"

"I completely agree with you, Uraraka," Tenya interjected. "Monoma was out of line, and I will talk to the U.A. staff about his inappropriate behavior." In truth, Tenya was livid. Monoma was intolerable, and that type of behavior was unbecoming of a future hero, but as class president, he had a duty to handle these type of situations in an orderly fashion, even if all he wanted to do was smash Monoma's smug face in.

Tsuyu ended up being the one to steer the conversation to something else, "Aizawa said that Midoriya was at the hospital and in stable condition, maybe we could go visit him today after classes- kerro?"

The idea of visiting their friend lightened the mood significantly.

They spent the rest of lunch making plans to meet after school and visit the hospital. They planned on asking Aizawa if he would accompany them seeing as they would need to get a pass to leave campus, and they thought he might want to see Midoriya as well.

Aizawa had been one of the members of the search team that had found him, and they could tell that he was worried. It had showed in the way he held himself all day—always tense, a little more snappish, and noticeably more worn out than usual. As much as Aizawa tried to hide it, Iida, and the rest of class 1-A, could tell that he cared deeply for them.

They had asked if anyone else wanted to visit Midoriya after class with them and everyone—including, surprisingly, Bakugou—had stated that they wanted to visit him.

When they had told Aizawa, he had stated that while he thought it was a good idea for them to visit, having everyone visit him at once might be overbearing, considering the condition he was in. He said they would be better off going in small groups, so as to not overwhelm him.

In the end, they decided that Uraraka, Tenya and Todoroki should be the first to visit him, along with Aizawa who claimed he was only going to make sure they didn't get into any trouble on the way there. Tenya suspected that he was genuinely concerned about Midoriya's condition as well, and probably felt the need to make sure they all made it to the hospital safely, after all, the last time a student was off campus unattended, things didn't go well.

Inko hadn't slept since Izuku's night terror. Everytime she tried all she could see was his convulsing figure that seemed so small, and hear his anguished scream. Her baby was hurting, and there wasn't anything she could do.

That realization just about killed her.

So instead, she sat, and watched his small figure as he slept, chest rising and falling almost hypnotically.

Her emotions were all over the place, an amalgamation of worry and relief. She couldn't quell her worries though. How could she? Her baby had been gone for so long. Six whole weeks. Even if he was back, the damage had been done. She didn't know the extent of it, she had only been informed of his physical condition, but even thinking about it sent her into a frenzy.

In all honesty, she was still coming to terms with the fact that her son had been captured by villains, and that he had been hurt by them to such an extent. This brought on a whole new level of anxiety for her.

It was a lot to take in—she had been so worried before, but now an entirely new kind of worry rolled over her like thunder clouds, drenching her in sorrow and bombarding her with fears.

What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to take this? How was she supposed to help him? There were so many questions she had and so little answers. She was terrified. Things were going to be different now. Things were going to have to change now, because whether she liked it or not, her son had been put through something extremely traumatic, and she didn't know what to do about that.

Inko was in no way a violent person, but she did have a breaking point, and she was at that point. There was nothing she wouldn't do for her son. What had been done to him was unforgivable, and she would do everything in her power to find justice for him.

She took a moment to let her gaze linger over the form of her son, who was resting. He looked peaceful now, but she knew that peace was fake, a peace brought on by the sedatives coursing through his system, and soon he would be brought out from that forced restful slumber. She didn't dare think of the horrors that would now plague his mind when he woke up.

A fierce green fire burned in her eyes at the thought of people hurting her son. She was beyond frustrated with her inability to do anything, but she knew that detective Naomasa was investigating the circumstances surrounding her son's abduction thoroughly. She knew Naomasa would do everything in his power to find Izuku's captors and Inko was grateful for that.

A slight stirring caught her attention. She turned her gaze towards the bed where her son was lying. She saw his facial muscles twitch, a sure sign that he was waking. She held her breath, waiting.

It was foggy. Everything felt dull, muddled even. He could hear voices far away, and a rhythmic beeping noise penetrated the darkness in his mind.

Slowly, as if his senses were just waking up, he started to take in his surroundings. He could smell something sterile, clean…like antiseptic. He could feel a scratchy pressure around his torso. Something pricked his left arm, and he felt…light? He could still feel the throbbing of his injuries, but they had lessened, a stagnant pain that was pushed to the recesses of his mind.

Sluggishly, he tried to open his eyes. It took a lot more effort than he would like to have admitted. He blinked slowly, trying to disperse the darkness his eyes saw.

"I-Izuku?" He heard the familiar, timid voice that unmistakingly belonged to his mother.

He turned to face the direction her voice had come from. He blinked once more in an attempt to dispel the inky blackness.

Everything remained dark.

Fear seized him. Why was it dark? He couldn't see…was this another trick? Something intended to break him? His breathing hitched.

"Izuku, is something wrong?" There was worry in her voice.

This wasn't right. Something was different…

This wasn't right.

He could hear her. He could hear his mom, her voice, her painstakingly familiar voice, but it couldn't really be her, could it?

His eyes were open, but all he saw was a desolate ebony hue. There was no splotchy shapes or blinding light. It was all black.

This was wrong. Everything about this situation screamed wrong, but he couldn't be sure what was wrong. He wasn't safe—he couldn't be—but still…There was no air of danger here. This darkness, it was different from before. It didn't feel forced; this blackness felt too natural, and he wasn't sure what to make of that. How could a blackness feel natural, or unnatural? Black was black, wasn't it? He didn't know, but trying to sort it out in his head just made him more and more panicked.

He racked his brain, pulling at all memories, and vaguely, he recalled something. A snippet, short and disjointed, but there nonetheless.

Darkness. Pain. Alone. All alone; he was all alone. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. Everything hurt, shifting positions aggravated the fresh wounds on his back, and staying still caused his thoughts to reign free. Neither option was desirable.

He heard something far away…Voices…Wait voices?Why were there voices…Commands. That came from the door…Crashing. What was going on? This was different. This was too disjointed for it to have been planned. They never let him hear them coming…Not like this.

Suddenly there were more voices, some familiar, others not, but they all seemed so…concerned? Rushed? They were…worried. Why were they worried? Did something happen? What was going on?

Everything happened so fast, and he was in so much pain. He was confused, this wasn't like all the other times…These voices were asking questions. They were frantic almost, not calm and crazy like he was used to. They were asking about him? He didn't know, but he felt strong arms grab him. It grated his injuries, but he felt…safe. They were trying to move him, remove the bonds that held him immobile, but he felt oddly dissociated from it. He couldn't really feel them all that much. It was too obscure.

He heard a voice. It sounded familiar, painstakingly familiar. Who was it? He felt he should know the answer, felt as if it was right in front of him, taunting him, yet it evaded him. It was addressing him.

He was only hazily aware of what was going on around him.

"We've finally found you. You're safe." For the first time since he had been thrown into this endless darkness, he felt a sense of comfort wash over him. He felt safe.

Had that actually happened? Had he been rescued? Why was he still cast in the dark if he had been rescued? Why? If everything was different, if he was really safe, then why was he still in the dark? No...it was a trick. It had to be.

His breathing picked up. The beeping that had been steady, now began to accelerate. His memories were telling him he was safe, but the situation at hand offered nothing absolute, and without that certainty he felt lost. He didn't know what was going on. Panic was starting to set in. A buzzing noise started to ebb its way into his subconscious, its incessant sound bringing forth even more panic.

He heard something shuffle. "Izuku," the voice that sounded so much like his mom sounded closer, practically in front of his face. "I need you to calm down." Her voice was soft, worry etched into it, but grounded. He clung to it, not knowing what else to do—even if it wasn't real—because how could it be? He was still alone, in that awful place—it was soothing, and warm, and familiar.

The droning buzz started to recede, until it had all but faded away entirely.

A hand was placed tentatively on his shoulder, as if asking permission to comfort him. It was an odd sensation, but the firm grip kept him in place, mentally. He felt…safe?

"Izuku." He lifted his gaze towards the sound. It sounded like his mom, it really sounded like her, but it couldn't be…could it?

He thought about it. The forced numbness of his body, the prick in his arm, and the smell—everything was still a tame sensation, as if his body didn't know how to handle them, but it was there—it all reminded him of his many times in the infirmary at U.A. It was warm, too, he noticed for the first time, not the numb chilling coldness of that place. He still couldn't see anything—that was about the only thing familiar about this situation—but it felt wrong, like that shouldn't be the case.

He tried to calm his breathing, knowing that panicking in this situation wasn't going to help him. Panicking never helped anything; it always made things so much worse.

He felt the hand on his shoulder shift, and was reminded that someone was there, someone who sounded so similar to his mom. He swallowed heavily, "M-mom?" His voice sounded hoarse, and it grated on his throat. He hated how desperate his voice sounded, but he needed this voice to be his mom. He really, really needed her to be here with him.

He didn't want to be alone anymore. He couldn't be alone anymore.

There was an intake of breath. He trembled, not sure what that meant. There was no verbal response, instead they pulled him into a crushing hug. He tensed, not used to such a soft touch. He had forgotten what it meant to be touched without pain following. It felt so comforting, something akin to hope flooded his senses. He felt light, not shrouded by this cloak of despair and hopelessness, and this tight embrace was so familiar.

It was painstakingly familiar.

This was his mom.

There was no doubt that this was her.

White hot tears made rivers down his cheeks. He was safe. Safe. The word felt foreign after being in his position, but at that moment, with his mom crushing him with a hug, he didn't think there was a better word for it.

He tried to move his arm—the left one—to return the hug, but found his mobility to be disoriented. There was static coursing through his arm when he tried to move it, pins and needles running rivulets down the appendage.

He settled for smothering his face in her shoulder—or he assumed it was her shoulder.

It was overwhelming. Soon his tears gave way to harsh sobs, but she never lessened her grip on him. She moved a hand to his hair, stroking it and whispering soft reassurances. It made him sob even more.

At that moment, with his mother there, by his side and oh, so real, it didn't even bother him that he couldn't see her, because she was there, and she was real, he could deal with not seeing her right now. She wasn't a cruel trick or an illusion meant to break him. She was corporeal, and tangible, and right there.

She was here, and at that moment, it was enough.

All the fear and the dread that had wrapped around him like a blanket for such a long time was finally falling away, and he felt safe.

He wasn't sure how long they had sat there embracing each other, but too soon, he felt her slowly release her grip.

"Izuku…" He could hear the sorrow in her voice, the worry that practically dripped from his name as she spoke it.

He flinched slightly, and part of him wondered what it was about her tone that had elicited such a response, but he pushed it to the back of his mind as he swallowed thickly.

Suddenly, not being able to see became a much bigger problem than he had thought it would be. He hadn't really been able to see much of anything for the past however long, and had grown accustomed to the dark, but this…this was something else entirely.

Before the darkness had been just a means to hurt him; they hadn't blinded him, but they had effectively taken away his sight just the same, only allowing him to see when it suited their needs. Now though, now that darkness should have ebbed away. His eyes should be able to see…something, but the blackness ensued.

"M-mom…Why-" he didn't want to ask it, because he knew the answer, "Why is it so dark?"

He could sense the shift in her facial expression. He couldn't see anything, but he knew her face had morphed from worry to horror.

"W-what do you mean by that? T-the lights are on." He guessed she was gesturing around the room to emphasize how not dark everything was, but he was oblivious to it if that was the case.

Suddenly, Izuku was overwhelmed. It was as if the reality of his lack of sight had finally hit him. He could have just pretended it was extremely dark out, and that was why he couldn't see anything, even if that sounded stupid and implausible, he could have convinced himself that that was what was going on…He had convinced himself of that, but when his mom confirmed that that wasn't the case, well, his flimsy excuse vanished.

He didn't understand why. Why couldn't he see anything? His eyes hadn't been damaged, had they? What had happened to cause this?

He didn't know.

That scared him. A lot.

"I don't- I can't…I don't understand. I can't- It's- Everything is just black," he shuddered, his voice a mixture of terrified and frustrated.

She took a deep breath, and he could feel the sadness attached to it. It was impossible to miss, even if he currently couldn't see. Even now, when he was safe, he was still only causing worry for his mom; it made him nauseous.

"I can't see… I can't see anything," he whispered in a hushed tone that he wasn't even sure his mom could hear it.

"Izuku," her voice sounded strained, as if she couldn't believe it, "What d-do you mean?'

Was his sight just…gone? Was he blind?

He didn't want to even think of that possibility. That wasn't something he was willing to accept. He refused to believe that he would always be lost in this eternal blackness. So, instead of voicing his thoughts, he just went with, "I- I just can't see anything."

He jumped slightly, when he heard the door open, and strained to hear more. He didn't like not being to see this new person. It aggravated him—scared him a little too. How was he supposed to know if they were a threat or not?

Since he had been captured, the use of his eyesight had been limited, but his eyes had still held the capability to see. It had just been cut off. Now though, he should be able to see, there was no outside force stopping him from seeing, and yet, all he saw was an ocean of black. He was drowning in it.

The words 'can't see anything' swirled around Inko's head like a cyclone, washing out every other thought. She didn't understand it. His eyes hadn't appeared glassy or fogged over. They were still that brilliant hue of green, but she had seen no recognition in them—even when expressing unfiltered terror, his eyes hadn't been searching for her in an attempt to seek comfort. They had remained off center. It broke her heart.

The doctor had come into the room, and had addressed Izuku, but she wasn't paying attention much. She hazily noted that the doctor was asking Izuku something to which Izuku hesitantly nodded.

Her mind was still stuck on those last words. Her baby was scared and suffering, and she couldn't even give him a reassuring smile because all he saw was the darkness.

She was pulled from her thoughts when the doctor called her name.

"Y-Yes?" she asked.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave." The doctor smiled apologetically at her.

She nodded automatically, not really understanding why she had to leave, but one glance at Izuku told her all she needed to know. Even if he couldn't see her, he had turned his face away in shame, something she knew he did when he was trying to hide something from her. She guessed that the doctor had some questions that he didn't want her to know the answers to, and while she was saddened by that, she at least understood.

Izuku was a headstrong person. He didn't like having to rely on others or ask for help. He liked to face things on his own and come up with solutions by himself. She understood that, even if she was against it.

She could never think less of him, and whatever horrors he had faced at the hands of those villains wasn't something he should be ashamed of, but she knew her son. He put too much pressure on himself, acted as if the world was on his shoulders. He cared about everyone else much more than he cared about himself.

Still, it scared her to think that he had willingly pushed her away in order to spare her feelings, because he didn't need to do that. He shouldn't have to do that, but it was a very Izuku-like thing to do. That eased her mind, if only slightly. It showed that the old Izuku was still there, and that, maybe, everything would be okay.

She waited in the hallway, not willing to leave her son's side, even if she couldn't stay in the room. She had to know what the doctor had to say about his eyesight. Of course she was worried about more than just that, but if Izuku was blind, his entire way of life would have to be rearranged; she wouldn't even know how to start with that.

So, she waited—fretted—in the hallway for a long while, until she heard a group of people walking towards her. She looked up and saw Uraraka, Iida, Todoroki and Izuku's homeroom teacher, Aizawa, making their way towards her.

She gave them a soft smile.

Uraraka was the first to say something, "Midoriya-san, why are you waiting out here?" Her face contorted from curiosity to unease, "Is something wrong?"

Inko was shook her head, "No, the doctor is just checking up on him now, and asked me to leave." She gave them a tired smile, hoping to appease their worries.

Uraraka beamed, "Oh, does that mean that Deku's awake?"

Inko nodded. "Yes, he woke up about an hour ago." She sighed heavily, recalling how he had had a near panic attack upon waking, and then an emotional breakdown in her arms. "He's- Well, quite honestly, I don't know how well he's doing. The doctor came in about ten minutes ago, and I haven't gotten word since, but I'm-" She cut herself off, not sure how to express her concerns.

How was she going to tell them that Izuku couldn't see? That he might be blind? She was lost; she didn't know what to do. She could feel the pain in her eyes welling up, but she tried to reign in her emotions.

Uraraka came up and pulled her into a tight embrace, soon followed by Iida and a reluctant Todoroki. No words were said, just a silent comfort that somehow made her feel ten times better.

Izuku had such great friends, everything would be fine, she reasoned, because they would all stick with him through the thick of it. She let herself break down, basking in the comfort Izuku's friends offered.

Aizawa shifted his footing, alerting the group to his presence—which they had forgotten about—and they all turned to meet his gaze. He still looked worn, but there was a light in his eyes that hadn't been there before. "So, Midoriya-san…" he ventured, keeping his cool, but also conveying his worry, "How is he doing? You said he was lucid?"

Inko nodded hesitantly, "Yes, he woke up, but he didn't say much… just…" She lingered on the words, reluctant to tell them the reality of the situation, but knowing they deserved to know it nonetheless.

They waited with bated breath, curious to know what Izuku had said.

She steeled her resolve, and stared them in the eyes with a fear filled gaze. She whispered it, but in the deafening silence, it was heard as loud as a scream.

"He said he couldn't see."

***

"How are you feeling, Midoriya?" The doctor asked in a calm manner

Izuku flinched at the name—he had gotten used to associating that name with pain—but otherwise gave no reaction or inclination of a response. He didn't know how to respond. He wasn't quite sure how he was. He heard the doctor move beside him and tensed. He was alone with this man, someone he didn't know. He knew he had been the one to send his mother off, but that was besides the point; she didn't need to know everything the doctor would need to know. Still, he didn't like that he couldn't even see them. It was unnerving and had him on edge.

"I-I'm fine." He didn't sound fine, and he knew it. His voice grated on him, and it felt as if he had swallowed gravel every time he spoke. It hurt, but it wasn't something that he found to be unbearable.

He heard a scuffle to his left and turned in that general direction. The shift in positions aggravated the wounds on his back, but they were still a dull throb, most likely due to the painkillers that were no doubt running through his system, so he paid it little attention.

"Your injuries aren't bothering you at all?" His voice was jovial, but calm and hinted at a seriousness. In a way, it eased Izuku's mind, if only slightly.

"N-not really…" Izuku gulped, a question weighing on his mind. He needed to know, even if he wouldn't like the answer, this was something he needed to know. "Umm…What-did s-something happen…" He looked down, even if he couldn't see it, he could feel the doctor's eyes on him, "Did something happen to my eyes?"

There was silence for a moment, before he got a response.

"No. Is there a problem with them?" The doctor sounded concerned…and unsure.

Izuku's brain stopped for a moment. That wasn't the answer he was expecting. He didn't expect the doctor to not have the answer.

What's wrong with me? Why can't I see?

"I can't—" he cut himself off, he didn't want to say it, "I can't...see." It felt bitter on his tongue.

He heard shuffling and tensed. Where is he going? Why is he moving? He didn't like not being able to see where people were, it put him on edge.

"Midoriya," the voice was right in front of him, "Can I have you look up?"

He hesitated, startled by the voice being so close to his person without him knowing, before he reluctantly looked up. He didn't know where to hold his gaze, so he just tried his best to guesstimate where he was supposed to be looking.

"He said he couldn't see."

Shouto just stared, unable to process that information. That just wasn't possible. That wasn't fair. Midoriya didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve any of this.

Shouto could recall his first impressions of Midoriya. He hadn't thought much of him. He looked plain and overall unimpressive. Then the sports festival had come around, and Midoriya had proven to be a force to be reckoned with—not only had he proved himself to be strong by making it to the final eight, but he had single handedly saved Shouto from himself. He had shown Shouto that his power was his own, and Shouto had been grateful to him ever since.

In a sense, Midoriya had shown Shouto the light…but now, it seemed as though fate was determined to take that light away, literally.

This wasn't right. How could this even be happening?

He watched in shock as Uraraka and Iida gave Midoriya's mom a hug; he couldn't move, frozen in place by this new knowledge. Wasn't it bad enough that he had been missing for six weeks, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing, he or anyone else was able to do about it? Hadn't Midoriya suffered enough? On top of that, now he couldn't even see. It was too much, and Shouto needed to breathe.

He had to forcibly draw air into his lungs and just…breathe. He made himself calm down, now was not the time to freak out. Midoriya needed them right now, more than ever, and he needed them to be calm and collected, not a mess.

Shouto felt Aizawa's eyes on him, asking him if he was okay. He wasn't, he really wasn't okay in any sense of the word, but he had to be. For Midoriya. He would keep his cool and be the friend Midoriya needed, because he knew, he knew, if their situations had been swapped, he would do the same.

Midoriya was the type of person to push aside his feelings and fears for others. He wouldn't hesitate to throw himself into the fray if it meant that his friends would be safe. Shouto admired him for that—it took a special kind of person to be able to do all that Midoriya had done—and he strived to be that kind of person.

So, he pulled himself together and waited in earnest with everyone else for the doctor to come out and give them the news.

It was only a few minutes later when Midoriya's door opened and out walked a doctor. He looked around forty years of age with rustic brown hair that looked as though it had been recently cut and piercing brown eyes that hid behind his glasses. He held himself with an air that put Shouto at ease, knowing that Midoriya seemed to be in capable hands.

He turned to address Midoriya's mom.

"H-how is he?" Her voice conveyed all the worry that she was feeling.

The doctor looked at her and smiled gently, in a way, it soothed the entire atmosphere. "Well, I'm going to be calling in a neurologist to take a better look at his eyesight, because I didn't find any physical signs that would suggest blindness. Everything else seems to be in order. His vitals are fine, and he said that the pain is manageable. I feel it would be in his best interest, given the circumstances in which he was admitted, if he were evaluated by a psychologist before we discharge him. We want to make sure he doesn't present a danger to himself or others."

Shouto's breathing hitched. The doctor had just confirmed that Midoriya was blind. Blind. How are we supposed to take this? The thought struck him, and he immediately berated himself for thinking something so selfish. Nevermind them, how was Midoriya supposed to deal with this? How could he be a hero if he was blind? What did this mean for his future?

"What-what exactly is wrong with his eyes? They didn't-they looked fine." Midoriya's mother continued, with fear etched into her voice.

The doctor regarded her with a doleful gaze. "Honestly, I can't say for sure, which is why I'm calling in a friend from the Neurological department. She has more insight on these types of matters. This isn't my are of expertise, and so I don't want to give you any false information. I'll let the neurologist do a more in depth evaluation before we diagnose anything," he sighed, knowing that explanation didn't help.

There was a beat in which no one said anything.

"Can-can we see him, now?" Uraraka asked hopefully.

The doctor turned to her, but addressed everyone, "Yes, you may visit him, but I will advise you to be mindful of his current state. He cannot see, so he may be on edge."

Everyone tensed at that, but nodded all the same.

Shouto took a sharp intake of breath as he took in Midoriya's current state. He looked so thin and pale. His green hair fell limply around his face, lacking any vivacity, and Shouto couldn't be sure, but he thought it looked a little more pale, especially around the roots, than it had been before. He was looking at them with a startled expression, but his gaze was off; he wasn't looking at them, rather in their general direction.

"Deku!" Uraraka had been the first one to call out to their friend, her voice teetering in between excitement to finally see him again and worry at the condition in which he appeared to be in. Midoriya winced at the noise, shifting his gaze a little to appear as though he was looking at her directly—he was still a little off center from her.

"U-Uraraka…?" His reply was timid and broke in several places. His eyes filled with fear for a second, before he was able to mask. "H-how many-who's here?" He bit his lip, a sign of his uncertainness and unease with the situation.

Aizawa spoke up, "Midoriya—" They all stopped when they noticed how Midoriya flinched at the mention of his name.

Midoriya seemed to have noticed how Aizawa—and subsequently everyone else in the room—had stopped after saying his name. He turned away from them, his left hand clenching into a fist. "I-I," he stuttered meekly, "Sorry…"

He sounded frustrated, and Shouto realized how humiliating this must be for him. He had been taken by people—villains—and held captive for a long time. Now, even if he was safe, there were many scars that remained and had yet to heal, both physically and mentally—it was no doubt frustrating for him, having his friends see him in such a state.

"You do not need to apologize," Iida proclaimed a little too forcibly, "We are your friends, and we're all here to support you."

"Iida…" Midoriya said, his tone was steady, if a bit unsure.

"That's right, Deku! We're all here for you." Uraraka exclaimed.

"Iida is right." Shouto refrained from using his name, but he still noticed the slightest change in posture when he had spoken—it was if he were afraid of something…or someone.

Midoriya's breathing hitched. Iida and Uraraka thought it was because he was overwhelmed, but Shouto saw the fear in his eyes when he had spoken. Shouto saw how his demeanor shifted the moment he had spoken—at first it had been shocked, but it quickly morphed into a frightened stance, with tense shoulders and eyes warily looking for something, but seeing nothing.

He barely registered Aizawa giving him a pointed glance, as if to ask if he was going to be okay. He must've looked more startled than the others. Truthfully, he wasn't sure how he was feeling at the moment; shock and curiosity were bubbling within him, but more than anything he felt…numb. He felt as though a icy, intangible weight had ghosted itself through him.

"Izuku?" Midoriya's mother, who had been standing behind them, shoved her way past them to get to her son, who was currently on the cusps of having a panic attack.

Midoriya turned his head to the source of his mother's voice. His eyes, though still void of any recognition, were searching frantically for her. His breathing was all over the place, the heart monitor a testament to that fact with its rapid beeping. While Uraraka and Iida tried to calm Midoriya down, Shouto stood frozen in place, after all, he knew why Midoriya was acting like this—they didn't notice it, but he did. Midoriya had been fine, albeit a little tense when they had announced their presence, but as soon as he had spoken, something had changed in Midoriya's demeanor. Gears had shifted, and fear had replaced unsureness.

Fear directed at him.

The thought that his voice had done this, that his mere presence had offset Izuku so much that he needed his mother to calm him down, was too much for him. Midoriya was his friend—his closest friend—so for him to now be…afraid of him. It was difficult to comprehend. Why? Why was there fear in his unfocused gaze? What was it about him that elicited such a response from Midoriya? What did they do to him?

He watched in muted horror as Midoriya's mom calmed him down. It was a little disheartening to watch, Shouto had never seen Midoriya look so…distraught, so broken before. He didn't like it.

He watched, silently, as Midoriya slowly pulled himself together and apologized to them for freaking them out. It was such a Midoriya thing to do, and Shouto found that disturbing—he shouldn't be apologizing to them for anything; rather, they should be apologizing to him for not saving him sooner, for not being there for him when he needed them to be.

Uraraka quickly assured Midoriya that it was fine, and he shouldn't apologize to them. Iida went on about how he should take things slow and recuperate properly. They spoke about miscellaneous things such as the most recent Hero news and class 1-A antics. For a moment, they could all just pretend that Midoriya had been in the hospital for doing something reckless. He was still a bit hesitant, and any unexpected noise sent him on high alert, but he was there, and it was all so vividly real. Shouto watched, he had decided that it would be best if he didn't speak, lest he cause another relapse from his friend. He noticed the odd looks Iida and Uraraka were giving him, but he just shook his head. Midoriya's mother gave him a sad look, but again, he just shook his head and remained silent. Even Midoriya seemed to notice his absent presence, but something kept him from speaking out against it. Though, Shouto knew what it was: fear. So he said nothing and let them have their moment of peace.

Suddenly, Midoriya looked up. His face grew contemplative, "Aizawa-sensei, you-you're here, right?" His voice held a tinge of desperation, as if he was unsure of himself.

Aizawa arched an eyebrow and took a small step forward, "Yes, is there something you wanted to ask?"

His brow scrunched up and nose wrinkled in a way that suggested he was thinking about something important. He then turned to Aizawa, or at least to his general direction, "You…umm, you were the one to…" Realization dawned on his face, before he swallowed thickly, and his expression turned into a more somber one. "I was-how long was I…" his voice tapered off, before he took a deep, controlling breath and regained himself. "How long?"

"You were missing for a total of six weeks." Aizawa stated plainly.

Midoriya gulped, but said nothing for a long while. He blinked slowly, his green eyes looking vacantly ahead. "I-I see…That-that's a long time…" he trailed off, and Shouto wondered what he was thinking. "I'm sorry. I must've worried you guys a lot, huh?" His voice trembled slightly, holding back a myriad of emotions.

Uraraka and Iida halted for a second. Nobody wanted to be reminded of the reality of the situation. Midoriya had been missing for a long time, and they had no idea what had happened to him in that time.

"D-Deku…" Uraraka started, but couldn't finish.

"There's no need to apologize, Mi—" Iida cut himself off, remembering the reaction Midoriya had had to the mention of his own name.

Shouto nodded his head in agreement, but still said nothing. He wasn't willing to break the peace that they had, not with how shaky it was right now.

It wasn't long after that that they had to leave. They had only been there for a short while, but they could tell that Midoriya was tired. His drooping eyes gave them enough indication that he needed rest. They promised to visit him again as soon as possible. He smiled weakly back at them. It wasn't much of a smile, more like a grimace, but they all understood the implications anyway.

Shouto wasn't satisfied with that visit. He had thought seeing Midoriya alive would help stifle the fears that had crept through him since he had gone missing. However, if anything, seeing Midoriya look so lost and vulnerable had shaken him even more than not knowing anything. Then there was the fact that his mere presence had seemed to offset Midoriya, that hadn't sat well with him at all.

He couldn't see anything, and he hated it. Everything was dark, and while he thought that it might be dark out anyway, he hated—hated—not being able to know for sure. It was the uncertainties of the situation that had him on edge all the time, which in turn, only served to exhaust him.

He thought back to earlier today—how much earlier he didn't know, telling time was difficult for him now. His friends had visited, and as thrilling as it had been, it had left him exhausted. Not to mention Todoroki…He had thought he could handle at least hearing his voice, but even that had sent him back to that place. Hearing his voice and not being able to see him, to confirm that he wasn't grinning that maniacal smirk that promised only pain, had upset him more than he thought it would. Todoroki was his friend…and yet, the only thing he could do was stare at his voice in fear, mind consuming him with awful memories of burning fires that weren't real—that had never been real. He could feel the traces of the burns on his skin as they ate away at him only to then be revealed as nothing more than a mirage, an illusion on his mind.

He had been too afraid to say anything to Todoroki, and that made it so much worse. Todoroki was suffering too, and he couldn't even acknowledge his existence because it had been too much for him to handle. How could he do that? What kind of friend did that make him? Why was he so…so weak? Todoroki had been there, had really been there in flesh and blood, and all he could do was ignore him. Todoroki hadn't said anything either, he was probably mad at him, angered that he would react to his voice in such a way…but that wasn't like Todoroki. He wouldn't have done that…he couldn't have done that. He shook his head of the thoughts, not letting himself fall into that hole.

He was alone, alone with his thoughts, which only made matters worse. His mom had left to go get food from the cafeteria, but promised she would be back as soon as she could. That was fine—he wanted his mom to eat. He needed her to be okay. He needed her to take care of herself; he knew she had been beyond worried about him, and that she would forgo her own care in favor of helping him, but he didn't want her to do that. She shouldn't have to stop her life just because his had stopped. Still, he wished there was someone else here, because being all alone in the dark only brought about bad memories—memories he wished to forget all together.

He tried to focus on the heart monitor, something the doctor had said he didn't need any longer, but he had insisted he stay hooked up to it. It was the only thing he could latch onto now, the only thing that kept the buzzing away—when he was left by himself, that was. Without that one tie to reality, he would be lost to the horrors of his subconscious—the horrors of his own memories. The monotonous beeping helped to keep him grounded—helped keep the buzzing away.

He shifted his position so that he was sitting up instead of lying down. It took more effort than he cared to admit, simply because it was still difficult for him to move his left arm. He couldn't feel his right arm, and absentmindedly wondered if it was even still there, but the slight pressure against his chest confirmed that he still did have the appendage, even if he couldn't feel it.

His stomach growled, signalling that he needed to eat, but food was the farthest thing from his mind at the moment. The nurses had brought him lunch a short while after his friends had left, but he hadn't touched it yet. He hadn't had the appetite to. He knew he needed to eat, but couldn't bring himself to do it, not unless he was at death's door—he absolutely hated that he thought that way; he knew it was wrong, but couldn't force himself to think differently. He wouldn't—couldn't—do it unless he would physically collapse otherwise. He knew, because it had happened before, and he he hated that he knew that. Even thinking about food made him nauseous, causing his stomach to roil and lash out at him. He thought he might be sick. The thought of food, its acerbic foulness, made him want to heave. He forced himself to not think about it.

The heart monitor sped up.

Do. Not. Think. About. It.

He was safe, not in that place. He didn't have to worry about the food anymore…and yet, it still haunted him. He tried to control his breathing..

Breathe in.

One…

Two…

Breathe out.

He clutched his chest, trying to stifle his beating heart. The heart monitor slowly returned to a normal pace.

One…

Two…

Repeat.

After repeating this process for a good five minutes, Izuku was finally able to calm himself down.

He hated this. Absolutely despised it. He couldn't even think about something as mundane as food without being brought back to that place, that hell. What was wrong with him? Why, if he was safe, did he still feel trapped? Why couldn't he just move on, move past this?

He shuddered, taking in a shaky breath as he calmed himself. He was so frustrated, but working himself up over it wasn't going to help.

He sighed, a deep, morose exhalation.

There was nothing to do here. It was boring and left him with nothing other than to dwell on his thoughts—something he tried not to do nowadays. His thoughts had betrayed him long ago, giving into the nightmare that had been his reality for six weeks, six whole weeks. He had been trapped with them for six weeks. Part of him wondered how he had even managed to survive for so long. Why had they even kept him alive for so long? It didn't make sense. He couldn't dwell on it now. His thoughts wouldn't allow it; they were at war with him as it was. He didn't need to add another enemy to the fray.

What happens now? I can't be a hero-no-I'm still going to be a hero.

How can someone like you be a hero? You can't even feel your arms anymore.

My arms will heal! Recovery girl can- Can what? You have no feeling in your right arm, and you haven't for too long now. Her quirk speeds up the healing process, it can't reverse damage that excessive. Face it, you're just Deku now.

I refuse to believe that!

It's true, and you know it. You can't even see now. How are you supposed to be a hero?

I-I will be a hero. My eyes, they never did anything to them. I know they didn't. So, it has to be something else, it has to be…

Heroes are supposed to save people, you couldn't even save yourself.

I-I…What do you want me to say? That I'm giving up? Because I won't—I can't— I refuse.

There was a knock at the door. It startled Izuku out of his war torn thoughts, for which he was oddly thankful. He hesitantly glanced at where he thought the door was, "C-come in." His voice sounded meek, and he hated it.

There were so many things he hated nowadays.

Mostly, he just hated how weak he had become.

He heard the door open, perking his ears to listen for the footsteps. He heard something click, and a soft hum ran through the room. He figured the lights had been turned on, but his world remained the same: dark and completely void.

Toshinori ran—well, walked at a rather fast pace—through the hospital hallways to young Midoriya's room. He had been here earlier, but had been pulled away by Naomasa earlier to get some food, and review the ongoing investigation. He had learned some pretty interesting, if gruesome, details about Midoriya's time in captivity. None of it sat well with him. Whoever had taken Midoriya had done so with a specific purpose—this hadn't been a crime of opportunity. They had targeted Midoriya.

He was nervous, to say the least. He wasn't sure if Midoriya was even awake yet, and some part of him hoped he was still resting. As much as he wanted to talk to Midoriya, he had seen the state he had been in earlier, and he knew the kid needed rest more than anything right now.

He paused once he was at Midoriya's door, fear having taken him hostage. He wasn't sure if he should disturb him right now, maybe it wasn't a good time. Still, despite his fears and anxieties, Toshinori's curiosity won out. He knocked on the door slightly, he heard a hesitant voice tell him to come in, and pushed the door open.

The room was dark, with the curtains drawn and the lights turned off. Toshinori thought that was odd, considering the kid was definitely awake and lucid. He flipped the light switch and watched as the room was enveloped in the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital. He noticed how Midoriya had gazed slightly to his left and wondered if the boys sight had been impaired at all.

"Young Midoriya—" he stopped mid sentence when he noticed how Midoriya seemed to flinch at the name slightly. His heart dropped for a second. He decided he'd drop the name for now, "—Kid, how are-how are you feeling?"

It physically hurt him to see Midoriya like this, to see him so afraid of…of everything. He had even flinched at his own name, and Toshinori couldn't help but wonder if the flinching had been a conditioned response—something he had learned through…through torture. It wouldn't have surprised him if that was the case, but it was still a heartbreaking sight.

Midoriya, or rather Izuku—he wondered if he would prefer to be called that now, since calling him by his surname seemed to elicit fear—looked to his left, and Toshinori seriously wondered if the kid was seeing clearly—his eyes looked fine, that same brilliant emerald hue, but they weren't focused on anything—before speaking hesitantly. "I-I…" he looked down, as if ashamed of himself, "I don't-I don't…I'm not—" He stammered; his voice was barely a whisper, but Toshinori had heard it s if it were scream.

Toshinori gulped, hurt and pain flashing through his blue eyes before he took a hesitant step forward. Izuku was a headstrong person, he knew, and to see him look so-so defeated physically hurt him. Right now, he looked as broken as he had sounded. He was so small, thin and skeletal, with a pale complexion that spoke of darkness. Toshinori couldn't be sure, because of the bandages wrapped around his torso, but he thought he saw scars, red and healing peeking through from under the hospital garb. His right arm was in a sling; it didn't even twitch when he shifted positions, it just sat there, dead. His eyes though, were the worst. They were ringed by black and blue, signalling his lack of sleep, but what really scared Toshinori was how haunted his green orbs appeared. They no longer held that bright light of determination, instead they were dull, a green pool of murky despair.

"That's-well, that's understandable." He started to walk forward slowly, mindful of the tense posture Izuku was regarding him with. "Afterall, you were put through quite the traumatic—"

"That's not-I…" Izuku seemed at a loss for words, his gaze, which was fixed somewhere above Toshinori's left shoulder, appeared to be so distraught, and all Toshinori wanted to do was give Izuku a hug and tell him that everything would be alright, but he stopped himself. Something told him that physical contact right now would be a bad thing.

Tears formed at the base of Izuku's eyes, washing out the despair with frustration. "I-I need-I mean…I'm a-" he ducked his head again, "I'm a failure."

Toshinori's mind stopped, and his breathing halted. This wasn't something he was prepared for. He suddenly felt very lost. This wasn't supposed to happen—something like should never have happened to Izuku. He didn't deserve this.

"Kid-Izuku, no…" he kept his tone gentle as he put a hand on Izuku's shoulder. The sudden jolt from Izuku surprised him. It had been so forceful, so fear filled. He retracted his hand immediately. "How could you ever, ever, feel like a failure?" He was genuinely curious. He knew enough about trauma victims to know that this wasn't an uncommon theme—feelings of defeat and failure—but Izuku was so determined, so resilient and incredibly brave. He had thought—hoped—that he would think of himself as strong for surviving so long, for continuing to live and not give up, but of course, fate was not kind.

"I am though…a failure. I couldn't," he squeezed his eyes shut, tears running rivers down his face, "I couldn't escape. I was there for so long and I didn't-I couldn't even fight back, couldn't escape. And then-then…" his voice rose, cracking in several places. It was clear to Toshinori that he was at his limit. "I can't even feel my arm anymore…and what's worse-what makes this even worse is…" he lingered. Then turned his gaze to Toshinori, though it was off center, "I can't see." his voice trembled, a tribute to how earth shattering this news was. "How am I-" his voice and resolve broke. He fell into a whisper. "How can I be a hero now?"

A chill spidered its way up his spine and to his neck. The utter defeat and lifelessness in Izuku's tone as he spoke those words would plague his mind. It was only after that chill had passed that the reality of what Izuku had just said sank in. His arm, he couldn't feel it…and his eyes, his eyes could no longer see. Just what the hell had they done to this kid, to his kid?

Toshinori staggered back. He needed to sit down for a minute—though he didn't. If he sat down he knew he wouldn't be able to keep his composure-he would fall apart completely. His mind reeled. He needed time to think, to pull himself together.

"I just-I tried to defy them, but it never—" there was an inhale of breath, "I was just so…so weak."

Toshinori's mind frayed out. All processes stopped. "No," words were leaving his mouth before he had a chance to think about them, "don't ever think that, Izuku. You were-are not weak. They had a plan. This wasn't something done on a whim. They planned accordingly, and didn't give you a chance to fight back. So don't-I don't ever want to hear you saying that you are weak or a failure." His tone was bordering on desperate now. He wanted—needed—Izuku to understand: this wasn't his fault.

"But—" the inflection on his voice spoke volumes for the words that refused to leave his lips. He didn't believe him.

"Izuku," Toshinori had regained himself enough to say this, because he knew it needed to be said. "What happened to you was in no way your fault. You did what you had to in order to survive. Don't ever forget that."

Izuku turned away from him, shamefaced. Tears were falling, unbidden, from his cheeks, and Toshinori could tell that the dam was about to break.

"You don't understand." There was a finality to his voice, an edge that dared Toshinori to deny it.

Toshinori sighed heavily, a cold, dead weight, falling into the pit of his stomach. "I-I…No, I don't understand. You're right, but you have to know…you are strong. You survived because—"

He was cut off by Izuku's harsh reply, "No, that's not-I don't mean it like that."

"Then…what do you mean?"

"I-they…those people. The ones who had me-they, they wanted information."

Toshinori had assumed this was the case, but there was something off about Izuku's voice when he said that, as if that wasn't all there was to it. "That would make—"

"But," he spat the word out like venom, "It's one thing for them to hurt you because you're withholding information…"

Toshinori paled slightly, not liking where this conversation was going.

"It's another when they-when they…just hurt you because they can, because it's fun."

He froze. He knew he shouldn't have been surprised—he knew the people who had taken Izuku had been sick and twisted, but it still hurt. It hurt a lot, to see Izuku in so much pain, to see him struggling so much.

"Izuku—"

Izuku swallowed thickly, "I-I just-you know," he turned to look at him, though his gaze was focused a little to the right of his actual face, "When they want something from you, it's like a small victory everytime they hurt you, because-because you know, you know that they're only hurting you because they're frustrated with you…but when they do it, and they don't want information there's just-there's nothing. Absolutely nothing you can do, and you feel so weak and powerless and pathetic."

"You're not-you know you're not any of those, right? You're not weak or pathetic. You're incredibly—"

"None of that matters when they're hurting you! Who cares how strong you are? It still hurts! And-and you still feel pathetic afterwords for crying out-because it hurt…It just hurt so-so much." His voice twisted halfway through the sentence, morphing from a frantic shout to a pained hiss.

Toshinori opened his mouth then immediately snapped his jaw closed, cutting off anything he was about to say. How was he supposed to respond to that?

He vaguely noticed a dampness cascading down his own gaunt cheeks, but that didn't matter right now. The only thing that mattered to Toshinori at the moment was making sure that Izuku didn't blame himself for this. For any of it.

He strode up to Izuku's bedside and ignored the slight flinch that Izuku gave at the sound of his footsteps—something he would later berate himself for, but right now he needed to do…something—anything to let Izuku know he wasn't alone, that it wasn't his fault. He knew Izuku had formed some sort of aversion to physical contact, but he needed to show Izuku that he was there for him, that he would always be there for him. He pulled Izuku into a hug and held him tightly.

Izuku flinched slightly, again, Toshinori would reprimand himself for that later, but right now…right now Izuku needed this.

"I'm so sorry…" Izuku sobbed into his shoulder, no doubt dampening the shirt Toshinori was wearing, not able to keep himself together once the comfort was there. "I-I failed-I failed you. I'm a failure of a successor."

"No. No, you're not. You could never fail me." Toshinori consoled as best as he could.

"I can't-how can I be a hero? How can someone like me, blind and weak," he said the words with such revolt that Toshinori's heart froze, "be a hero?"

Toshinori gripped him harder, "We'll figure it out. I promise. I promise. I'm not giving up on you, kid, no matter what. So you can't give up on me either, okay?"

"I-I" Izuku stammered between sobs, overcome with emotion.

"I don't care what obstacles we face. I chose you to be my successor for a reason, and this," he didn't move his arms to emphasize, but his inflection spoke for him, "this doesn't change anything. We will figure it out. So don't keep blaming yourself. You can't keep blaming yourself for this."

Izuku sniffled and clung to him tighter, but said nothing else. They remained that way for a long while, neither Toshinori nor Izuku willing to leave the comforting embrace. It was nice, and for the time being, Toshinori had no doubt that Izuku would be able to heal. It would take awhile, but he could—he would do it.

Izuku was exhausted. His day had been…hectic, to say the least. It was all a bit much for him to comprehend if he was being honest. Too many things had happened today for his liking, and he just wanted to…rest, to fall into dreamless sleep. He doubted he'd be able to, nightmares were a common companion to him now, but the thought of sleeping was so endearing, he thought he might give it a try.

He hoped that sleep would give him time to just assess everything. Time to process his current situation. Time to heal his body…his mind. Time to just…put himself back together, pick up the broken pieces because that's what he was right now: broken. He needed to be okay, to know he was safe, to just not be…what he had become in that place.

He just…He needed time.

He needed to process everything.

He was still trying to sort through the information the neurologist had told him when she had come to visit him sometime after Toshinori had left. Her visit had been fairly short, but it had left him with more anxieties than comforts.

She had been very kind and understanding, keeping her voice gentle, and talking him through everything she did. It had been comforting to not have to guess what the people around him were doing. It was something he hadn't even thought of, but when she did it, he noticed how much safer and how much more relaxed he had been, even if it was only slightly. He still tensed whenever a random sound invaded his hearing, but she was always quick to give an explanation and never got frustrated with him, even when he had been rather difficult to deal with.

She had explained to him what she thought was wrong. She had told him that there was nothing physically wrong with his eyes. That had sent him into a spiral. How was it that his eyes were fine, and yet, all he could see was an eternal night, an endless sea of black?

She had explained that a possible explanation could be what was referred to Functional Neurological Symptom disorder, or more commonly known as Conversion disorder. He hadn't known what that was, but she had explained it to him with practiced ease. It wasn't common, but it did happen, and more often than not, it appeared in people who had been through trauma.

Like me, he thought dejectedly.

She had told him that it could go away, that stress was usually a factor in its stability, so there was hope that he would be able to see again. That knowledge had put him in a better mood. His eyesight wasn't gone permanently. There was a chance that his eyesight would return —that it could return as soon as a couple days. Though she did warn him that this was a tricky thing, something there just wasn't a lot of solid research on. She couldn't give him an accurate estimate on when, or if, his eyesight would return. There were still a lot of unknowns, and that left him slightly panicked.

I could be blind for a few days…or forever.

For now, he decided to just let it be. His body ached, but he was able to ignore it in favor of resting. His entire being wanted to just fall into oblivion, and yet, it refused. His body longed for sleep, having been deprived of it for such long bouts of time, but his mind couldn't stand the thought of sleep—sleep equated to nightmares and even more twisted horrors. Even if sleep hadn't been a solace for him lately, he knew his body needed it, and hopefully, his mind would allow him this one grace.

Today had been harrowing. Inko was well aware of that fact. It hadn't even been a full twenty-four hours since her baby had been recovered and already so much had happened—too much for her worried self to handle.

She watched as Izuku slept, exhausted from the days events. Watching the simple rise and fall of his chest comforted her; watching him sleep reminded her that he was alive, that he was safe now.

She thought back on the days events with a heavy heart. She was honestly surprised that Izuku had been as coherent as he was, considering what she had been told of his condition. The doctor had said they wanted to keep him here for a few more days to monitor his health and wait until he could get a psych eval before discharging him. Even if she understood why they needed to do that, she still didn't like it. The thought that her baby could have been hurt so much that his sanity was in question—the rational part of her mind told her that that was not the reason they wanted to give him a psych eval, and that it was just a standard procedure for trauma victims—had her mortified.

She shoved those worries down. There wasn't any point in her worrying over it right now. She needed to be strong for Izuku right now. She needed to be there for her baby now more than ever before. It was imperative that she remained calm and collected.

Another issue pressed at her now. What was she going to do about Izuku's schooling? Obviously, he wouldn't be going back to school for a while still, not until he was deemed in good enough health, both physically and mentally, but she wasn't sure if she wanted him to remain at U.A. She knew he loved it there, but this—this had happened because he was a U.A. student. He had been taken on his way to the dorms and just being at U.A. made him a target for villains.

However, she thought about all his friends. How they had come to visit him today, and how grateful he had seemed to see them. They had made him happy—they had been there for him when no one else had. They had helped him in so many ways before, and she couldn't just rip him away from that. She couldn't—she wouldn't.

For now, she wouldn't think about it. She would just focus on Izuku and his healing. He needed her, and she was going to be there for him no matter what. With determination set in her mind, she sat and watched her son sleep. She wouldn't think about the horrors he had faced, was still facing, instead she was going to focus on helping him, on making sure he was okay.

She was reaching out for that silver lining in the clouds.

[smallhumanperson]

hi pretties 🌷💕 may is almost over kids, which means i have waited all of mental health month to share own my story! when i first started this blog, i mentioned that i had some issues in high school but i never really shared about them. i got depressed for the first time when i was a sophomore. i didn’t have much friends and i was painfully shy so i had a really hard time socializing with anyone but the few friends i already had growing up. not being given much attention made me feel a little insecure, sorta like i wasn’t good enough. i had never been confident, and i developed a habit of comparing myself to other girls. because of this, i became extremely self conscious about my looks, especially my body. at this time, i was at a healthy weight; i didn’t overeat and never in my life was i overweight, but comparison and insecurity got the best of me. it started with me wanting to lose just a few pounds. i didn’t have much knowledge about healthy eating and weight loss, but simply eating less was how it began (this is also when i started running). overall, i just wanted to look and feel more fit. what i didn’t realize was that i was becoming obsessive about it. i wouldn’t finish meals or i would skip them; i stayed away from certain foods, even foods i used to eat all the time. i even tried counting calories everyday, how much i was eating and how much i was burning. i thought i was doing myself good, but by the time i was early into my junior year, “a few pounds” became 20. this made me feel tired, depressed, even scared of eating like a normal person. all i remember from my junior year and the summer after is being unhappy with my life. i tried to fill the void with guys, partying, being around people i shouldn’t have been, and on top of all this i was completely faking my confidence; i’d cry because i hated myself then walk into a room and act like i loved myself more than anyone.

when senior year rolled around, i knew i had an eating disorder. i knew that i was unhealthy, and if i kept doing what i was doing, i was going to end up in the hospital. that was the year that i started trying to overcome these habits (notice i said TRYING). when i made the decision to start recovering, i had no idea that it would be so difficult. my weight began to go up and down, and it got really frustrating. some days i felt genuinely happy with my body, but other days i felt awful. i was proud of myself, though, because no matter how hard it was, i never let myself starve again. 

the end of my senior year and that summer is a story for another time. but i went through a lot and i met people who helped me become who i am today. i also found out that i am a lot tougher than i look! i’ve become truly happy with who i am, and i am genuinely myself again. i am able to run because i like to run, not because i’m trying to lose weight. i eat whatever i want, whenever i’m hungry (so cake). and although anorexia doesn’t consume my life anymore and i’m healthier than i used to be, i’m still recovering from those painful two years. sometimes i have my bad days, but i always end up finding a way to pick myself up. so if you’re still reading (thanks💕), please remember to take care of yourself, whether that means staying alive another day or simply eating breakfast. and i don’t care if it feels like the whole damn world has given up on you, don’t give up on yourself. your life is worth so much more than that asshole in your head that keeps telling you you’re not good enough. so there you go friends, my first personal story about my mental health journey! thank you for those of you who stuck through it all, i know i’m not the best writer in town but i like to tell stories! 🙆🏻 (another thanks for your support) 🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷

#mental health awareness #mental health month #post it forward #self care #body positive #body confidence #ed recovery #recovery #pro recovery #storytime #story #life story #my life #personal #personal blog #blogger #follow for more #selfie #bralettes #cute #cute girl #colorado #tattoos #tattooed #girl #personal post

[nerdynightpenguin]

Chapter one : Nov 2018

Hi! 5th of november

I guess I should start by presenting myself. I’m Cat, a very lost 18 year old with a loneliness problem an many, many fristrations. I guess you could say I am a failed exchange student. I guess you could say I am a failure overall But I can’t give up, therefore I have to figure it out . I can’t take it from the beginning. Not now. I would lose too many details from the present.

Today’s question is: If I would ever be rushed to the hospital for whatever reason, who will actually be there ? Who will actualy be so worred about me that they had to be there?

I’m crying so bad as I am writing this because I am afraid of the answer. I think my problem is I am so afraid of reality. Of life. It’s so mcuh more difficult than I thought. I thought I was ready to handell this, but I am certainly not.  

Today one of my girlfriends had the driver’s license testing. Our friend, I, drove most of us there to see her before, to be there for her. Me and her, are not that close anymore. Also so many things changed since I left. She didn’t pass and I was so sad about it. I could feel it. After 10 min she called him crying, asking him to pick her up at the hospital. He was so afraid. I’ve never seen such thing, especially in a teenager’s eyes. HE LOVES HER. That’s what I saw: love. He drove to the hospital so fast. Literally as fast as he could. When I saw her sadness my heart melted. I knew she annoyed me lately but somehow I couldn’t be cold. I wanted to cry too for her. I wanted to help her feel better. I guess that’s friendship. I’m happy with myself that I did my best.

9th of November

I’m starting to get used wihtout him. It’s not all so difficult. I just don’t care anymore if people tlk to me or not. It doesn’t matter. I’ll go on and do my own thing. But I still find myself wandering back to our happy moments. I think I am learning to have patience. I just can’t stop caring about him all at once. I can’t because I loved him too much. But if it’s neccessary I will eventually. I just, IDK, I wish I could mak the right choice. You know? I wish I could do the right thing for both of us. I hope he’s missing me too. But is he ? Is he really missing me right now ? I don’t know. I think he still cares because of the way he is reacting to everything. Last night he went to the gym to plpay football like every other Thursday night I’m sure. But now, that his bff is driving they also went for a drive. His bff drives like crazy. I fell asleep wishing to text him to ask him to let me know when he will get home so I know he’s ok. That’s all I wanted. To know he is safe. Because I fell asleep worrying I had a bad dream about him being in the hospital. I wondered, who will actually show up for him, and will it make him happy my presence there ? I don’t know. I wish I’d knew.

-later-

I told him: „ We lost the snap heart”. He said: „ Did you expect it to last forever?”

No. Maybe. I don’t know because I know that we  have no future together.  I know that my first love was supposed to come to an end. I just didn’t expect it to be this soon. This isn’t how I had it planned out. It’s far from what I imagined.

And now I’m lonely. I’m completely alone and I feel lonely. It’s just me and my music. And as Halsey said: „I feel alone in my mind”, that’s how I feel lately. Alone in my mind. And it sucks you know? No one should ever feel so alone.  He left me bleeding on the floor. He cam back and stepped on my heart. And I let him because I did love him. And sometimes I feel stupid because I did because he kept saying how I should be stronger, maybe grow the fuck up. So I feel stupid about loving him because maybe he is too mature to love me. He sometimes feels way to superior to understand my weakness. It’s not love, it’s a weakness. That’s what he would say. I told him that it’s his choice and he said yes it is. But it’s not. It’s not just his choice because it’s not only about him. He was too selfish when he said this because in a relationship there are two people. And besides the fact that it’s not fair for him to take all of the decisions, it’s not fair to not think about how is this goign to affect me, but maybe he doesn’t care that much to actually look back and take care of the way he’s leaving me.

There’s something else I’d like to say. I’ll start with a story so you can understand where is this all coming from. After the first month of our relationship he had a school trip. I didn’t worry because I trusted him so much. He was such a good guy, I truly believed he was so  good that I didn’t think about setting boundaries for him. I told him: ‚Have fun, but don’t forget about me”. Maybe it wouldn’t have been such a big deal if he kissed someone. It’s just a kiss. But he slept with another girl and he didn’t even try to hide it. Everyone knew. And soon I knew too. And it crushed me so hard, it crushed my hopes, my everything. I didn’t want to forgive him. I didn’t at first. Until his bff told me something: It’s not fair to judge someone by their mistakes without considering the good he has done. So that’s what I did. I let the good part of him win and I ignored the bad he did. And what is he doing now? He’s not considering all the good I did for him: the pain I went through for him just because I thought he s a good person so he’s worth the help when I was in love with him and he talked about other girls with me, all the good I tried to do while being together, I gave him everything I had, I gave him both love and forgiveness, I gave him good and bad times I know. But I did my best. Always. And then I made mistakes because I started to fall apart and instead of picking me up he gave up. He tried, I know that, but he gave up. I didn’t. I never gave up. There are tears in my eyes when I’m writing this but I never gave up on you. Because I know I made it hard for you, I know I did, but there were times when you did too. Remember dear, you had help. I don’t. And I’m fighting to make  sense of my thoughts and to make sense of your thoughts too at the same time. I don’t know were we fell apart so hard. I successfuly managed to push back the pain this week and as I  am thinking more and more of you everything is coming out. There’s anger,  there’s hope and most of all there’s pain and fear. I’m left alone and I’m afraid.  Of what have I become.  Of what I am becoming. And you.  Ou didn’t change, you’re just turning over, showing your other side. I gave  you the power to take the decisions and you took it like it was your to begin with all along, not ours. And I waited for signs as what you want this to be like. I didn’t dare to do anything towards you. I just tried to prepare myself for the worst. You lifted up the wall, baby and you say there’s no going back. But remember, I crossed it once. Remember the reasons you let me in for because there is nothing I would love more than hearing you talk. Talk about you and what’s going on with you. You thougght I was too selfish to care but I never stopped caring. I just tried to fill the void you left when you left. There aren’t enough words to express my thoughts because I have too many, therefore I am confused. I don’t know what’s right and wrong and what I should do. I’m still afraid of you being cold and mean to me. Because you are the only person I completely let in my heart. And you leaving and tking all that’s good of me, everything that I gave you, my best, leaves empty. I’m just a big emptiness with lost thoughts.

November 10th

Man, I miss him. I miss talking to him, telling him the last night stories and talking to him in general. I don’t know why life has to be like this. To rip something from you, something that  youo love this much. One of my firends told me that he tried to be with someone else while I was gone but the girl said no because he still cared about me. Where is that? I want that .

The worst thing is that I don’t know if he feels the same. Do you still think about me? Do you still want to talk to me ? Do you have the urge to press my name when sending something? Do you miss having me listen to you and your stories? Do you miss us talking ?

Let me tell you how last night was. Do you remember when you use to tell me that you lost your confidence? I did too. It left me when you left me. I tried to be confident last night. At first it was good. I was looking pretty good I guess. Idk. I used that lipstick because that’s how I felt. Dark. Sad inside. My outfit was pretty good tho I regret leaving my top tucked in my pants because in most of the pictures I look like a have a belly. And it sucks because i worked so much to not have one. You know, I thought that maybe you stopped liking me because I was too fat. I tried dancing but I’m still not so good like the other girls that know how to shake they bodies. Because I have always been shy but this time I wanted you to hear that I looked good. That why I also chose to wear heels but I wasn’t as balanced as I wanted on them so I couldn’t  dance so well at first. At one point I was dancing with 2 girls that you are talking to or used to talk to and all I could think about is how they were going  to judge me : „ Like ugh how could he be with her ? She sucks.” . After a while another girl that you fucked joined and they definetely had better moves than me so I just left. Later in the night I basicall ignored my feet dying because I really wanted to have fun and to forget about you.  I wanted to stop being the sucker thinking about   you. I waited you to text me maybe. Anything really. But no sign from you. So that was my night. As most of my days lately it was about learning how to forget you.

You know, I really regret being sad every night and talking to you and ‚birng the drama’.  I just wanted to  make you snap. To make you say something. Why did you shut off like you did? You decided I got too close so you pushed me away?

Do you like your new friends more ? Do you think they are good replacements?

-later-

One of my friend told me that it is gonna be difficult at first but you just have to focus on yourself. Me? I’m a very complicated mess. I literally have to listen to music all the time because silence makes my mind go crazy. I have so many thoughts. It’ s a mess in my mind. I can’t even make sense of everything that is there. So everytime I try to focus on myself my thoughts overwhelm me. I feel more than overwhelmed, I almost feel like  I want to take my brain out just to get rid of these thoughts. It’s a mess that I can’t handle right now.

November 11th

I’m crying again. I wish I coould fight with him. Anything is better than what life is now. The wrost part is I’m not even myself anymore. I don’t know why I asked you how are youo. But you did not care enough to really answer. And then yoou hit me with three stupid emojis. I told you that someon should steal the emojis from you because honestly getting emojis is so bad. Is like you did not even want to make the effort to write 2 words. Then you told me that If I learn enough I can steal them. Learn what? To live without you ? That’s your trying to do ? Just give me a hint.

I’m crying my brains out again. All I can do is crumble into a little ball of suffering, wrap my hands around me and try to keep myself together.

I’m at the point when I think you stopped caring at all.  My body is shaking just as I am writing this.

This will be the end of this. I’m done writing about you if you are caring about me. At least, maybe  someday someone will find themselves in my words and they will feel less alone when I felt the most lonely I have ever been in my whole life.

[theslayercake]

Everybody Has Them - Revised!

She normally “slept” well after a fight; as disgusting as she knew it was, killing things calmed the cancerous programing that howled for blood whenever she was around people. This time however HateBox had exited sleep mode fully charged and angry. She didn’t know why, but the simmering little pool of rage wouldn’t leave her. It threatened to seep into her entire being and it was all she could do to reign it in. It was a miracle that LoveMachine was still offline; she might not be able to hold on if she had to deal with her as well.

Rising from their bed, she slowly made her way into the living room; each step sending a spear of fire through her mind. She stood silently, sensors shutdown, claws clenched, muscle fibres straining and started counting. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Pause. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

The fire and pain receded slightly, enough for her to think; she couldn’t stay here, not like this. The slightest thing could set her off and she would hurt someone, or more likely lots of people. But where would she go? It was impossible to be alone, really truly alone, in the city. The idea hit her like a high velocity slug; the Scar, on the edge of the Ruin. A place drenched in a city’s worth of bad memories, hers included, where only the terminally desperate ventured. Fitting.

She pulled on some clothes and carefully stepped outside. Her feet crunched over the broken glass scattered around outside their flat. Graffiti was scrawled over the door and wall; the standard scribbling of slurs and threats that, on any other day would wash over her without effect, had her scraping furrows in the neocrete with her toe-claws. She stared at it for too long until she forced herself to turn away and step onto the street. It was a long way to the Scar, and she didn’t drive, so her choice was walking or the transit system. A momentary flash of a subway tunnel drowning in blood and limbs made her mind up for her; it would take time but walking would probably result in less murder.

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HateBox focused on putting one foot in front of the other and the aura of Danger she seemed to be projecting kept most people well clear of her. It was going well until a man in an expensive suit slammed into her; rebounding off and falling messily to the floor. He was on his feet in seconds; raging about useless “robots” and ‘Calcs’, screaming “Do you know who I am?!”'s and threatening violence. She stood there motionless. His words were lost to the ringing, howling hate that surged over all of her walls and defenses; demanding that she tear him apart. And she wanted to. Dear God, did she want to; drawing points of impact and lines of laceration across his beautifully tailored clothing. He pushed her. She took a half step back on her own volition; goading him into trying again. Her body sang with the desire to end him; LoveMachine’s voice, small and tinny, pleading for her to hold on. Someone touched her, not him, and she turned slightly to appraise the World’s Most Suicidal Person. A girl, maybe sixteen at a push, looked down at her with concern.

“Are you OK?”

HateBox realised she was shaking; her claws tapping a staccato rhythm against her palm and scattering sparks as they scraped against each other. The suit had retreated several steps, making to flee, and she did as her better half asked and held on. He all but ran past her and disappeared. The girl asked again.

“Hey, are you OK?”

Slowly, she shook her head, too invested in control to speak. 

“Come on, let's get off the street. Over here, easy does it.”

The girl guided HateBox into a small alcove and placed herself between her and the rest of the world. She hunkered down until they were at “eye” level, her big green eyes filled with worry. 

“Just take your time. All the time in the world. I’ll keep you safe, OK?”

HateBox managed to get the shaking under control; dragging herself back from the edge enough to speak.

“Not scared. Just so...angry… don’t want to… hurt people.”

“Hhmm. I guess I’ll protect the assholes from you then, huh?”

HateBox giggled. It was a little hysterical but it was enough to break her emotional stalemate.

“Yeah… that would be nice. I’m sorry, I’m not having a good day and I’m trying to get away before I hurt someone.” 

“Where are you going?” The girl was still staring at her. “My name is Aaliyah, what’s yours?”

“I’m HateBox. I’m trying to get to the Scar. I’ve… kinda lost track of where I am.”

“That’s really not a good place, Ms. Box. Why do you want to go there?” “It’s the only place I know that I can be alone. So I can’t hurt anyone.” The rage spiked again and the white hot haze started to return. “I need to go, Aaliyah. I’m sorry.”

She pushed past her and sprinted down the street, ignoring Aaliyah’s calls. Eventually the haze pulled back a little and she realised the shining towers and mirrored streets had given way to crumbling concrete and rotten buildings. These streets were dangerous, and still far from abandoned, but the people here knew when someone should be avoided. She wandered until her bearings returned and not long after she came to the Scar.

The great burnt rent ground was once the last bastion of resistance to the Corps and the people living and fighting here paid dearly for opposing them. Their tunnels were deep and well fortified but the Corps had the power of gods, and a need to test experimental orbital weapons, so the outcome was the same as everywhere else. The people of the Ruins tended to avoid the monument to their loss; so she was, finally, alone. She had her own memories of this place; stains from the confused and jumbled nightmare that was her early consciousness. A time before LoveMachine, before she started healing; when she didn’t know right from wrong and the rage she felt now was a constant.

A lone girder jutted over the abyss; proud and stark. She walked along it and perched herself at the end where there was nothing between her and the void. LoveMachine would try and help her. Aaliyah would probably have insisted on staying with her. But they didn’t know. They didn’t, couldn’t, understand what it was like to live in fear of her emotions; to be on constant guard that she not become too happy, too sad or too angry. When she woke up today she knew she couldn’t control it this time and so she did the only thing she could think of.

HateBox sat at the edge of everything and stared down into nothing. She released control and let the rage swell and churn. It overcame her and she revelled in the hate. Hated herself for being so broken. Hated LoveMachine for always being there. Hated Aaliyah for saving her. As she lost herself in the swirling flame; her world became a girder and the abyss. She was still there when LoveMachine found her.

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They’d made it back home and LoveMachine had held her for what felt like hours as she had poured the pain out of her mind and into hers. Eventually she had to go out on a contract job and once again HateBox was alone. She waited an hour in silence until she was sure LoveMachine was well away from the area before carefully uncurling and sliding off of the bed. The lock box was hidden in the alley by their flat, undetectable unless you knew what to look for. LoveMachine hadn’t noticed her slip the key out of her pocket and she knew she’d be mad once she found out.

Carefully, she swiped the lock and the box slid open, revealing her extensive collection of firearms, ammunition and explosives. Placed prominently on top were a pair of Ryū NOMAD pistols, one all gleaming finish, the other beaten and worn. She picked up the worn gun, hefting it in her claws, and shut the box.

A thin metal plate sat on the bed; on top of that she lay the stained oilcloth. With great care she placed the pistol on the cloth and sat cross legged on the bed. The NOMAD had been her first gun; a first generation model she had found in a ditch and, quite frankly, it was junk. The first gen models were testaments to over-engineering and poor design choices; weak springs, bad lock-ups and a trigger group that would make MC Escher blush. But she had kept it.  Used it. Replaced springs and bearings, filed and scraped and tweaked it until it was mostly reliable; mostly functional. Just like her.

 It’s twin was a second gen and all of the issues had been resolved, that she had been more efficient overall with her work filled her with pride, but it didn’t hold the same place in her “heart”. The old gun was proof that something broken could be made to work and she clung to that hope that maybe she could work someday as well. LoveMachine was a genius and she loved her but it was so hard to make progress.

Both her and the gun were made to kill. The binary nature of it, either safe and inert or fired and deadly, was mirrored in herself and she hoped that she could one day amount to more. She cleaned and oiled each part with the religious precision; a single error would see her hard work undone. With deft hands she reassembled the pistol and checked it’s function. All good. She cocked the hammer and pressed the barrel against her forehead.

*click*

She slumped down with a sigh and began to clean up. LoveMachine didn’t let her keep her weapons and ammo in the flat for good reason; melancholia could turn into something much darker with frictionless ease. Eli thought it was because she was scared of her, and she’d made her promise not to tell them what had happened the last time she had a loaded gun and too much time to think. She hates keeping secrets but her friends and her teammates couldn't know how close to the edge she walked. That LoveMachine had accepted her reasoning, and accepted Eli's scorn, calmed her fear.

The midday sun blazed down at her through smog and haze as she closed the lock box and filled her with light. She had come a long way; mostly functional, mostly reliable, mostly hopeful.

#Scifi #cyberpunk #fiction #Part 4

[healthandfitnessrecipes-blog]

Hemp Seed Oil: The Perfectly Balanced Fat for Weight Loss

https://healthandfitnessrecipes.com/?p=7712

Eating enough of the right kinds of fat, like hemp seed oil, is vitally important to shift your metabolism into fat-burning mode, nourish your cell membranes, and supercharge your energy.

When it comes to how dietary fat influences body fat, there are volumes of half-truths and misunderstandings that have been damaging the health and waistlines of innocent people for decades! It’s shocking to me how many people still espouse the myth that eating fat makes you fat – despite mountains of evidence to the contrary.

The latest research makes it crystal clear that it’s not fat that makes us fat; refined sugars and toxicity are the culprits. Low fat, high carbohydrate diets have led millions to an early grave with diabetes, heart disease, and so much more, yet many health experts still cling to these misinformed health-damaging recommendations.

The truth is, there isn’t a single cell in your body that can be made without fat. Fats are what make up the cell membrane that encases each and every one of your cells. Your body needs fat for hormone production, cell messaging, and keeping inflammation at bay.

Fats are crucial to the functioning of your heart, brain, and nervous system. Getting in the right fats in the right ratio ignites your fat-burning metabolism to shed unwanted pounds, and there is no better-balanced source for these fats than hemp seed oil, featured in my new Radical Metabolism plan.

Your Body Was Built to Run on Healthy Fat – Not Sugar!

Your body is amazing in its ability to run on different types of fuel. It can take virtually anything you eat and, given the right conditions, turn it into fuel for your body and give you energy. But some fuels make your metabolism more sluggish, namely sugar. Today’s high carb, high sugar diets have so many people stuck in glucose-burning mode because of its constant supply. Like an unused muscle, our more efficient fat-burning engines have weakened, stalled, and in some cases, completely shut down.

A sugar-fueled metabolism creates a number of problems. It causes your blood sugar (glucose) and insulin levels to spike and leads to more sugar and carb cravings, overeating, and increased storage of body fat – especially belly fat. When that belly fat congregates around organs it produces more inflammation and insulin resistance than the fat under your skin does.

Burning glucose instead of fat generates more free radicals in your body, which leads to increased oxidative damage and inflammation. All that excess sugar circulating is also food for unwanted guests, and leads to Candida overgrowth, parasites, and a messy microbiome, which means more weight gain and less energy.

The best thing you can do to turn your sluggish metabolism into a radical one is to shift your body from sugar-burning into fat-burning mode. You can’t do this if you’re skimping on dietary fats – you need good quality fats to ignite your fat-burning metabolism.

You can add nourishing hemp seeds to your salads and vegetables, and create a healthy balance of fats in your diet. While supplying your body with these nourishing “skinny” fats, you must also reduce your sugar consumption, and carbohydrates that convert to sugar in your body.

A fat-burning metabolism is more efficient. It stabilizes your blood sugar and insulin levels, cuts cravings, melts off body fat, starves unwanted guests and even cancer cells, and quells inflammation. But, it’s important to choose the right fats, like hempseed oil, to prevent inflammation from triggering weight loss resistance.

Chronic Inflammation Blocks a Skinny Metabolism

As we search for underlying root causes to what ails us, many of us are told inflammation is the source of many ills. And while it’s true that chronic inflammation leads to weight gain as well as numerous illnesses, in and of itself it’s not the root cause. You have to dig deeper into what’s causing the inflammation, and one of the underlying causes of inflammation is a deficiency or imbalance in your essential fatty acids. Hemp seed oil and hemp hearts have the perfect balance of fats and help quell inflammation.

It’s important to realize inflammation itself isn’t a bad thing – it only causes damage when it becomes chronic or rages out of control. Inflammation is actually your body’s way of protecting itself; without it, you wouldn’t heal from a cut, fight off a cold, or mend a broken leg, for example. It’s when your body stays inflamed for a longer period of time that you can become quite ill.

Chronic inflammation means your immune system is staying activated, and this creates a cascade of unwanted effects in your body, including elevated insulin. Inflammation wreaks havoc on your chemical signaling and puts your body under stress, so it starts accumulating fat reserves. This leads to the vicious cycle where higher inflammation leads to more fat cells, and more fat cells lead to higher inflammation. Hello muffin top and goodbye energy!

You can break the cycle by balancing your essential fat intake in the right ratio. Mother Nature has saved us the headache of figuring this out on our own by providing us with hemp (and its derivatives like hemp seed oil), which has the optimal balance of essential fats.

The Ideal Omega Fat Ratio for a Healthy Metabolism

An overabundance of refined vegetable oils like soybean, canola, corn, margarine, and shortening (yuck, yuck, yuck!), along with processed foods, grains, and grain-fed meats, the Standard American Diet (SAD) has thrown our essential fat balance way out of whack. Historically, traditional diets have provided Omega-6 to Omega-3 fat ratios in the range of 1:1 to 5:1, but the SAD has us coming in around 20:1.

If you have twenty times the Omega-6 fats, then you are getting in far too many junk oils (think restaurant oils and vegetable oils) – meaning they’re damaged, feeding inflammation, and void of nutritional benefit. On top of that, all those junk oils shut down the healthy Omega-3 fats through a mechanism called competitive inhibition.

The nourishing Omega-3 fats can’t compete with the junk Omega-6 fats, so the junk fats are used to make new cells, weakening you and generating a host of problems. It’s a classic case of garbage in – garbage out.

It can be hard to wrap your mind around, but even with a ratio of Omega-6 to Omega-3 that’s 20:1, you can still have a deficiency of Omega-6 fats. That’s because the healthy, non-damaged, functional Omega-6 fats your body craves are still missing.

This is where hemp and hemp seed oil come in. Hemp is rich in Omega-6 fats for glowing skin, shiny hair, less joint pain, lasting weight loss, and cancer prevention. Hemp is key to revamping and rebalancing your fats for health, energy, and weight loss, and my Radical Metabolism plan is the only one to feature this perfect source of essential fats.

Hemp, Hemp, Hooray!

Your body needs healthy fats to function well, and it takes more than popping a capsule of fish oil to get there. Fish oil is high in Omega-3 fats, which are great, but is low in Omega-6 fats. If you take fish oil and nothing else, you can actually swing the ratio too far in the opposite direction, and create an Omega-6 deficiency.

If your body has a preference as to which fats it gets, it actually prefers Omega-6 fats like those found in hemp seed oil. The mitochondria are the power plants of your cells, and make all your energy. They use Omega-6 fats almost exclusively.

For years we thought our bodies would make Omega-6 fats from Omega-3 fats, and from a laboratory standpoint, it should be true. But in studies, it’s Omega-6 fats alone that corrected all the abnormalities, not the Omega-3 fats. For optimal metabolism, it’s important to consume Omega-6 and Omega-3 fats in the right balance – the golden ratio seems to be 4:1.

It’s hard to find a food better than hemp for its essential fat profile – it boasts a 3:1 ratio. Hemp seeds are one of nature’s greatest gifts, full of benefits for your entire body. You can reap its benefits by consuming hemp seed oil, seeds (typically sold as “hemp hearts” which have had their hulls removed), or by blending them into hemp milk.

Hemp seeds are about one fourth protein – equal to beef or lamb but more digestible and bioavailable in form. Hempfu, which can be used similar to tofu, is an excellent vegetarian source of protein. Hemp seeds are a complete protein, providing all of the essential amino acids. Hemp also has strong anti-inflammatory benefits, likely related to its abundance of GLA, the fat-burning form of Omega-6 fats.

Hemp hearts have a delicate nutty flavor and make a tasty topping on salads, veggies, and many other dishes. Consume hemp seeds or hemp seed oil raw to preserve the delicate fats, and store them in an airtight container in the refrigerator, or freezer if longer preservation time is needed.

Until recently, hemp’s nutritional benefits were all but ignored due to it being a distant cousin to marijuana. The truth is hemp seeds are incapable of producing a “high” because their THC content is so minuscule.

Overall, the health fats in hemp boost a skinny metabolism and aid in weight loss, reduce cravings, sustain your energy, lower blood pressure, optimize blood sugar levels and lipid profiles, and lower inflammation.

If you are feeling fat and fatigued, with a sluggish metabolism, my book Radical Metabolism can help you get back on track.  Pre-order my book Radical Metabolism and get free gifts valued at over $107 PLUS over $50 in coupons! 

Credits: Original Content Source

[natedallas]

One Step to Unleash the Beast

Do you want to know a secret that will catapult you to new levels of success and satisfaction? Are you willing to do whatever it takes to grow, to heal, to mature, and to become the best version of yourself? Really? We’ve touched on some pretty heady topics lately. Most of the ideas and challenges I have served up in recent weeks have been introspective. Those things require different reflections and actions from everyone, based on their unique situations. Today, I want to be direct. This challenge is the same for everybody. The task is easy to understand, and it only takes a few minutes. The benefits are intuitive on some level, but impossible to appreciate fully until after it’s completed. It can certainly be difficult, but it always has a big payout if we are courageous enough. You know that person that hurt you so much, the one whom you despise? (Is that language too aggressive?) How about the person that used you, offended you, embarrassed you, bullied you, or stole from you? Is there some open wound that has never been properly treated, an injury that has never healed? Is there someone who inflicted pain or suffering that you still don’t mind bashing anytime there is an opportunity? Is there animosity because this person doesn’t even care to understand the gravity of the ordeal? Is your heart rate increasing now at the thought of this person?            You need to call him (or her). Harboring bitterness, resentment, or unforgiveness is likely the single action that limits our growth potential more than any other. It’s like poison in our bloodstream, and every organ in our body suffers as long as it remains. It’s profoundly simple. Our hearts have no more room. Our souls are occupied with strenuous, resource-wasting emotions and thoughts. We are out of control. If something has control over our growth, it also has control over our satisfaction. The cycle is so destructive.  

I often inform my patients of an infection that I see on their X-rays that they didn’t even realize was there. They readily let me know that it’s fine, and that it doesn’t cause any symptoms. They don’t notice any pain. I encourage them to treat it, pointing out that maintaining an infection is bad for their overall health. It’s not until after it’s resolved that they notice how much better they feel. Their bodies were fighting the infection all day, every day, and now it can use those precious resources elsewhere. People suddenly start to feel 100% again, and realize that they had forgotten how that feels.

Bitterness has a powerful effect. We don’t realize how bad it weighs us down, how it clouds our vision, and how it affects our happiness until it’s gone. It makes everything more toxic, even if we don’t consciously think about it. When we want other people to hurt or suffer, merely because we have had to, we must recognize that we are sick. A sadistic attitude is so messed up if you stop to ponder it. It doesn’t help us for someone else to hurt. It never does. It hurts us further and prolongs our suffering. But it’s not only us that lose. People around us that we love are suffering too, because we are sick. They no longer get the best version of us. Instead, they too must settle for a damaged version. The consequences are massive.

Why should we forgive? Because it guarantees us freedom. Forgiveness means to pardon, to set free, to liberate, and to release from bondage. Those who are merciful will also be shown mercy. The crazy thing is that it is us that benefit the most from the pardon. It allows our resources to be used elsewhere. It creates a void full of new opportunity and growth. It’s a peculiar and fascinating phenomenon.    

I’m not making a blind suggestion here, I am testifying. I made a phone call recently to an old friend. We had been at odds for so long that I didn’t even know what the original offense was. I just knew there had been tension for a long time. I didn’t bring up any events or make any excuses. I just said, in more or less words, “I just want you to know that I’m not mad anymore. I’m sorry that my immaturity and insecurity has caused you suffering. I’m sorry that I have punished you and hurt you. I love you. I want you to live a life of freedom and happiness. Please forgive me.”

My call wasn’t lip service. I meant it and the person knew it. It wasn’t a cheap action to discard my baggage and heave it onto someone else to make me feel better. It was sincere, albeit temporarily uncomfortable. I wanted to release my friend because I knew I was a contributing source of pain.

What came next? You already know the complex outcome. What resulted in my life was a newfound joy, a sense of peace, a clearer mind, a cleaner soul, and a bigger heart. In short, I was granted the opportunity and capability to be a better man. I'm disheartened and embarrassed that it took me so long to take a simple action.  

So man to man, I urge you to take a few honest and contemplative days to get your head right, and then…            make the call.

I write articles for men every Tuesday. If you would like to receive them in your inbox, use this form: http://eepurl.com/csGBOb

See past posts at www.natedallas.tumblr.com