🐪  Hump Day Memes

🧂  Salt Bae Meme

⏱  Waiting Meme

⚠️  Fuck You Meme

✊  Arthur Memes

🤮  I Don't Feel So Good Meme

feeling Memes

A
A
If You
If You
Its Not
Its Not
Have
Have
Blend
Blend
Let
Let
No Matter What
No Matter What
After
After
Its
Its
The
The 

    
                    

                

            
        
    

    
    
    






            

            
            

                

                    
                

                

                    
                    
                    

                        


	


    🔥 Popular | Latest






    

    
        
            
                

                    

                        
                    

                    
                    

                        
                            12 Memes That Might Make You Laugh If Coronavirus Has You Feeling Anxious
                        
                    

                    
                

            
        
    
        
            
                

                    

                        
                    

                    
                    

                        
                            These Memes About Bernie Sanders & Emotional Support Have Me Feeling So Validated
                        
                    

                    
                

            
        
    
    






    

    
    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        Feeling love: Feeling love
        

            
            

                
                
                    Feeling love: Feeling love
                    
                
            

            
                
                
Feeling love

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        get-inner-peace:
EMERGENCY HOTLINE NUMBERSIf you see this please RE-BLOGEach RE-BLOG can save a life!
If you are experiencing a medical emergency, are in danger, or are feeling suicidal, call 911 immediately. 
Suicide Hotline: 800-784-2433Immediate Medical Assistance: 911Crisis Call Center: 800-273-8255 or text ANSWER to 839863Crisis Text Line (U.S. only): Text HELLO to 741741Youthspace Text Line (across Canada): Text 778-783-0177 from 6 p.m. to midnight daily.
Suicide
National Suicide Hotline800-SUICIDE (784-2433)800-442-HOPE (4673)Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a weekhttp://www.hopeline.com
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline800-273-TALK (8255)Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a weekhttp://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org Keep reading
: get-inner-peace:
EMERGENCY HOTLINE NUMBERSIf you see this please RE-BLOGEach RE-BLOG can save a life!
If you are experiencing a medical emergency, are in danger, or are feeling suicidal, call 911 immediately. 
Suicide Hotline: 800-784-2433Immediate Medical Assistance: 911Crisis Call Center: 800-273-8255 or text ANSWER to 839863Crisis Text Line (U.S. only): Text HELLO to 741741Youthspace Text Line (across Canada): Text 778-783-0177 from 6 p.m. to midnight daily.
Suicide
National Suicide Hotline800-SUICIDE (784-2433)800-442-HOPE (4673)Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a weekhttp://www.hopeline.com
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline800-273-TALK (8255)Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a weekhttp://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org Keep reading

        

            
            

                
                
                    get-inner-peace:
EMERGENCY HOTLINE NUMBERSIf you see this please RE-BLOGEach RE-BLOG can save a life!
If you are experiencing a medical emergency, are in danger, or are feeling suicidal, call 911 immediately. 
Suicide Hotline: 800-784-2433Immediate Medical Assistance: 911Crisis Call Center: 800-273-8255 or text ANSWER to 839863Crisis Text Line (U.S. only): Text HELLO to 741741Youthspace Text Line (across Canada): Text 778-783-0177 from 6 p.m. to midnight daily.
Suicide
National Suicide Hotline800-SUICIDE (784-2433)800-442-HOPE (4673)Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a weekhttp://www.hopeline.com
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline800-273-TALK (8255)Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a weekhttp://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org Keep reading
: get-inner-peace:
EMERGENCY HOTLINE NUMBERSIf you see this please RE-BLOGEach RE-BLOG can save a life!
If you are experiencing a medical emergency, are in danger, or are feeling suicidal, call 911 immediately. 
Suicide Hotline: 800-784-2433Immediate Medical Assistance: 911Crisis Call Center: 800-273-8255 or text ANSWER to 839863Crisis Text Line (U.S. only): Text HELLO to 741741Youthspace Text Line (across Canada): Text 778-783-0177 from 6 p.m. to midnight daily.
Suicide
National Suicide Hotline800-SUICIDE (784-2433)800-442-HOPE (4673)Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a weekhttp://www.hopeline.com
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline800-273-TALK (8255)Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a weekhttp://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org Keep reading

                    
                
            

            
                
                
get-inner-peace:
EMERGENCY HOTLINE NUMBERSIf you see this please RE-BLOGEach RE-BLOG can save a life!
If you are experiencing a medical e...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        quecksilvereyes:

blackqueerblog:
Some parents really don’t understand the difference between actual discipline and hurting your kids.

This teaches a kid nothing except needing to hide what makes them happy because they’re scared their parents will destroy it.




also????? wake up your kid if they don’t hear their alarm????? dont do this????


I get the point on needing to be able to wake up by himself, but 1 - alarms don’t promote that either and 2 - he’s 9.If he’s sleeping in, especially at a younger age? There’s something wrong. Kids tend to wale up early, have high energy, etc. He’s either unable to sleep at night due to the monotony of the day not taking up enough energy, or being in lockdown has been affecting his mental health, which will make him more tired, or maybe he’s feeling ill and sees no reason to mention it because it won’t affect anything, or who knows what else. Don’t punish your kid for sleeping late, make sure they’re okay and maybe, if they feel they need more sleep, add an extra hour on in the morning or something. Saying that if he doesn’t wake up on time there will be consequences, which will stress him out and stop him sleeping, maybe even motivating him to stay up all night instead of risking oversleeping. We don’t have control over when we wake up, and if he’s sleeping through alarms, something needs to change. Maybe even changing the sound will help, but you gotta try and find a solution to whatever is causing him to oversleep, not make him feel bad for it and, in the process, lose his trust.Also, just so you know, postive reinforcement (giving a reward) and negative reinforcement (temoving something bad - such as painkillers removing a headache) work miles better than punishment (destroying something they love and are proud of).: quecksilvereyes:

blackqueerblog:
Some parents really don’t understand the difference between actual discipline and hurting your kids.

This teaches a kid nothing except needing to hide what makes them happy because they’re scared their parents will destroy it.




also????? wake up your kid if they don’t hear their alarm????? dont do this????


I get the point on needing to be able to wake up by himself, but 1 - alarms don’t promote that either and 2 - he’s 9.If he’s sleeping in, especially at a younger age? There’s something wrong. Kids tend to wale up early, have high energy, etc. He’s either unable to sleep at night due to the monotony of the day not taking up enough energy, or being in lockdown has been affecting his mental health, which will make him more tired, or maybe he’s feeling ill and sees no reason to mention it because it won’t affect anything, or who knows what else. Don’t punish your kid for sleeping late, make sure they’re okay and maybe, if they feel they need more sleep, add an extra hour on in the morning or something. Saying that if he doesn’t wake up on time there will be consequences, which will stress him out and stop him sleeping, maybe even motivating him to stay up all night instead of risking oversleeping. We don’t have control over when we wake up, and if he’s sleeping through alarms, something needs to change. Maybe even changing the sound will help, but you gotta try and find a solution to whatever is causing him to oversleep, not make him feel bad for it and, in the process, lose his trust.Also, just so you know, postive reinforcement (giving a reward) and negative reinforcement (temoving something bad - such as painkillers removing a headache) work miles better than punishment (destroying something they love and are proud of).
        

            
            

                
                
                    quecksilvereyes:

blackqueerblog:
Some parents really don’t understand the difference between actual discipline and hurting your kids.

This teaches a kid nothing except needing to hide what makes them happy because they’re scared their parents will destroy it.




also????? wake up your kid if they don’t hear their alarm????? dont do this????


I get the point on needing to be able to wake up by himself, but 1 - alarms don’t promote that either and 2 - he’s 9.If he’s sleeping in, especially at a younger age? There’s something wrong. Kids tend to wale up early, have high energy, etc. He’s either unable to sleep at night due to the monotony of the day not taking up enough energy, or being in lockdown has been affecting his mental health, which will make him more tired, or maybe he’s feeling ill and sees no reason to mention it because it won’t affect anything, or who knows what else. Don’t punish your kid for sleeping late, make sure they’re okay and maybe, if they feel they need more sleep, add an extra hour on in the morning or something. Saying that if he doesn’t wake up on time there will be consequences, which will stress him out and stop him sleeping, maybe even motivating him to stay up all night instead of risking oversleeping. We don’t have control over when we wake up, and if he’s sleeping through alarms, something needs to change. Maybe even changing the sound will help, but you gotta try and find a solution to whatever is causing him to oversleep, not make him feel bad for it and, in the process, lose his trust.Also, just so you know, postive reinforcement (giving a reward) and negative reinforcement (temoving something bad - such as painkillers removing a headache) work miles better than punishment (destroying something they love and are proud of).: quecksilvereyes:

blackqueerblog:
Some parents really don’t understand the difference between actual discipline and hurting your kids.

This teaches a kid nothing except needing to hide what makes them happy because they’re scared their parents will destroy it.




also????? wake up your kid if they don’t hear their alarm????? dont do this????


I get the point on needing to be able to wake up by himself, but 1 - alarms don’t promote that either and 2 - he’s 9.If he’s sleeping in, especially at a younger age? There’s something wrong. Kids tend to wale up early, have high energy, etc. He’s either unable to sleep at night due to the monotony of the day not taking up enough energy, or being in lockdown has been affecting his mental health, which will make him more tired, or maybe he’s feeling ill and sees no reason to mention it because it won’t affect anything, or who knows what else. Don’t punish your kid for sleeping late, make sure they’re okay and maybe, if they feel they need more sleep, add an extra hour on in the morning or something. Saying that if he doesn’t wake up on time there will be consequences, which will stress him out and stop him sleeping, maybe even motivating him to stay up all night instead of risking oversleeping. We don’t have control over when we wake up, and if he’s sleeping through alarms, something needs to change. Maybe even changing the sound will help, but you gotta try and find a solution to whatever is causing him to oversleep, not make him feel bad for it and, in the process, lose his trust.Also, just so you know, postive reinforcement (giving a reward) and negative reinforcement (temoving something bad - such as painkillers removing a headache) work miles better than punishment (destroying something they love and are proud of).
                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        benteja:

holmesandtheroman:

madlori:

tastefullyoffensive:
by Xergion
This is true! The zoo where I volunteer (the illustrious Columbus Zoo & Aquarium) was one of the pioneers of this program.
Our zoo is known for raising cheetah cubs. Cheetahs have a terrible infant mortality rate and cubs are often rejected, so we get a lot of cubs to raise from all over the country (other zoos and sanctuaries, mostly).
The cubs are placed with a puppy friend when they are wee and small, so they grow up together like littermates. They play together, wrestle, and the dogs (yellow Labs) are so calm, friendly and well-socialized that the cheetahs take behavioral cues from them. When they meet new people, or go into new situations (which they often do, as ambassador animals for cheetah conservation), they check out if their dog friend is feeling chill - which he is - and then they know it’s okay for them to be chill, too.
Basically the dog is a service animal for them.
The cats need their dog friends less and less as they get older and more comfortable, but they still often hang out as grownups.
Our zoo does cheetah runs, where the cheetahs get to chase a lure and show off their speed. Often they’ll have one of the cheetahs run (we have like twelve cheetah), and then they’ll have one of the dogs do the run to show how much faster the cats are. People get a kick out of that. The dogs…let’s just say they try their best.


DISNEY MOVIE ABOUT CHEETAH GOING ON A JOURNEY TO FIND HER SILLY DOGGO FRIEND

Disney Cheetah and Doggo? HAD TO SKETCH IT!
: benteja:

holmesandtheroman:

madlori:

tastefullyoffensive:
by Xergion
This is true! The zoo where I volunteer (the illustrious Columbus Zoo & Aquarium) was one of the pioneers of this program.
Our zoo is known for raising cheetah cubs. Cheetahs have a terrible infant mortality rate and cubs are often rejected, so we get a lot of cubs to raise from all over the country (other zoos and sanctuaries, mostly).
The cubs are placed with a puppy friend when they are wee and small, so they grow up together like littermates. They play together, wrestle, and the dogs (yellow Labs) are so calm, friendly and well-socialized that the cheetahs take behavioral cues from them. When they meet new people, or go into new situations (which they often do, as ambassador animals for cheetah conservation), they check out if their dog friend is feeling chill - which he is - and then they know it’s okay for them to be chill, too.
Basically the dog is a service animal for them.
The cats need their dog friends less and less as they get older and more comfortable, but they still often hang out as grownups.
Our zoo does cheetah runs, where the cheetahs get to chase a lure and show off their speed. Often they’ll have one of the cheetahs run (we have like twelve cheetah), and then they’ll have one of the dogs do the run to show how much faster the cats are. People get a kick out of that. The dogs…let’s just say they try their best.


DISNEY MOVIE ABOUT CHEETAH GOING ON A JOURNEY TO FIND HER SILLY DOGGO FRIEND

Disney Cheetah and Doggo? HAD TO SKETCH IT!

        

            
            

                
                
                    benteja:

holmesandtheroman:

madlori:

tastefullyoffensive:
by Xergion
This is true! The zoo where I volunteer (the illustrious Columbus Zoo & Aquarium) was one of the pioneers of this program.
Our zoo is known for raising cheetah cubs. Cheetahs have a terrible infant mortality rate and cubs are often rejected, so we get a lot of cubs to raise from all over the country (other zoos and sanctuaries, mostly).
The cubs are placed with a puppy friend when they are wee and small, so they grow up together like littermates. They play together, wrestle, and the dogs (yellow Labs) are so calm, friendly and well-socialized that the cheetahs take behavioral cues from them. When they meet new people, or go into new situations (which they often do, as ambassador animals for cheetah conservation), they check out if their dog friend is feeling chill - which he is - and then they know it’s okay for them to be chill, too.
Basically the dog is a service animal for them.
The cats need their dog friends less and less as they get older and more comfortable, but they still often hang out as grownups.
Our zoo does cheetah runs, where the cheetahs get to chase a lure and show off their speed. Often they’ll have one of the cheetahs run (we have like twelve cheetah), and then they’ll have one of the dogs do the run to show how much faster the cats are. People get a kick out of that. The dogs…let’s just say they try their best.


DISNEY MOVIE ABOUT CHEETAH GOING ON A JOURNEY TO FIND HER SILLY DOGGO FRIEND

Disney Cheetah and Doggo? HAD TO SKETCH IT!
: benteja:

holmesandtheroman:

madlori:

tastefullyoffensive:
by Xergion
This is true! The zoo where I volunteer (the illustrious Columbus Zoo & Aquarium) was one of the pioneers of this program.
Our zoo is known for raising cheetah cubs. Cheetahs have a terrible infant mortality rate and cubs are often rejected, so we get a lot of cubs to raise from all over the country (other zoos and sanctuaries, mostly).
The cubs are placed with a puppy friend when they are wee and small, so they grow up together like littermates. They play together, wrestle, and the dogs (yellow Labs) are so calm, friendly and well-socialized that the cheetahs take behavioral cues from them. When they meet new people, or go into new situations (which they often do, as ambassador animals for cheetah conservation), they check out if their dog friend is feeling chill - which he is - and then they know it’s okay for them to be chill, too.
Basically the dog is a service animal for them.
The cats need their dog friends less and less as they get older and more comfortable, but they still often hang out as grownups.
Our zoo does cheetah runs, where the cheetahs get to chase a lure and show off their speed. Often they’ll have one of the cheetahs run (we have like twelve cheetah), and then they’ll have one of the dogs do the run to show how much faster the cats are. People get a kick out of that. The dogs…let’s just say they try their best.


DISNEY MOVIE ABOUT CHEETAH GOING ON A JOURNEY TO FIND HER SILLY DOGGO FRIEND

Disney Cheetah and Doggo? HAD TO SKETCH IT!

                    
                
            

            
                
                
benteja:

holmesandtheroman:

madlori:

tastefullyoffensive:
by Xergion
This is true! The zoo where I volunteer (the illustrious Columbus...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        bisexualnoodle5:

airyairyaucontraire:

yay855:

residentevil-fandomhazard:

princesstigerbelle:
I love how he kisses the kitten towards the end 

All kittens are born feral, but you can see the exact moment ahead realized how good kisses are 💜💜💜

Mother cats will often groom their babies to calm them down and help them feel loved; by kissing this kitten, that man is establishing himself as a mother figure to it.
He’s literally saying “I’m gonna be your momma now” in a language it understands, and it responds with love.

Honestly it helps that he has a beard, I have a theory based on observation of cats with bearded persons that the feeling of stiff beard hair brushing the cat’s fur is sufficiently reminiscent of the feeling of Mother Cat’s rough tongue grooming a kitten’s fur that they are suckers for that business. 
Beardos, rub your face on a cat today and repeat back, please. 

“DON’T TOUCH ME DON’T TOUCH ME” *kiss* “oh that’s actually kinda nice”
: bisexualnoodle5:

airyairyaucontraire:

yay855:

residentevil-fandomhazard:

princesstigerbelle:
I love how he kisses the kitten towards the end 

All kittens are born feral, but you can see the exact moment ahead realized how good kisses are 💜💜💜

Mother cats will often groom their babies to calm them down and help them feel loved; by kissing this kitten, that man is establishing himself as a mother figure to it.
He’s literally saying “I’m gonna be your momma now” in a language it understands, and it responds with love.

Honestly it helps that he has a beard, I have a theory based on observation of cats with bearded persons that the feeling of stiff beard hair brushing the cat’s fur is sufficiently reminiscent of the feeling of Mother Cat’s rough tongue grooming a kitten’s fur that they are suckers for that business. 
Beardos, rub your face on a cat today and repeat back, please. 

“DON’T TOUCH ME DON’T TOUCH ME” *kiss* “oh that’s actually kinda nice”

        

            
            

                
                
                    bisexualnoodle5:

airyairyaucontraire:

yay855:

residentevil-fandomhazard:

princesstigerbelle:
I love how he kisses the kitten towards the end 

All kittens are born feral, but you can see the exact moment ahead realized how good kisses are 💜💜💜

Mother cats will often groom their babies to calm them down and help them feel loved; by kissing this kitten, that man is establishing himself as a mother figure to it.
He’s literally saying “I’m gonna be your momma now” in a language it understands, and it responds with love.

Honestly it helps that he has a beard, I have a theory based on observation of cats with bearded persons that the feeling of stiff beard hair brushing the cat’s fur is sufficiently reminiscent of the feeling of Mother Cat’s rough tongue grooming a kitten’s fur that they are suckers for that business. 
Beardos, rub your face on a cat today and repeat back, please. 

“DON’T TOUCH ME DON’T TOUCH ME” *kiss* “oh that’s actually kinda nice”
: bisexualnoodle5:

airyairyaucontraire:

yay855:

residentevil-fandomhazard:

princesstigerbelle:
I love how he kisses the kitten towards the end 

All kittens are born feral, but you can see the exact moment ahead realized how good kisses are 💜💜💜

Mother cats will often groom their babies to calm them down and help them feel loved; by kissing this kitten, that man is establishing himself as a mother figure to it.
He’s literally saying “I’m gonna be your momma now” in a language it understands, and it responds with love.

Honestly it helps that he has a beard, I have a theory based on observation of cats with bearded persons that the feeling of stiff beard hair brushing the cat’s fur is sufficiently reminiscent of the feeling of Mother Cat’s rough tongue grooming a kitten’s fur that they are suckers for that business. 
Beardos, rub your face on a cat today and repeat back, please. 

“DON’T TOUCH ME DON’T TOUCH ME” *kiss* “oh that’s actually kinda nice”

                    
                    

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        stellarsteele:
Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))).
Prologue
            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned
out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me
creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him. 
            I am anxious for another romantic
experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but
this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up.
My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with
unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. 
Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly,
but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a
good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but
I’ve learned to work with what I have.
I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot
of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence
of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. 
I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck
with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my
mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in
college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together.
I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going
to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out
of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super
hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college
cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. 
I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take
this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need
right now. 
Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am
not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected…
Day 1
            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by
cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that
desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of
clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school. 
            After, I went for a run in my
neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social
distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules,
but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the
world goes to shit.
            I laid on my bed for a while and
ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that
since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell
asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big
part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them. 
            Next, I checked my school email and
discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I
have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor
will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.
            I checked my Instagram feed and
ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which
was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media
posts.
Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new
album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up
with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more
time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media;
get laid. 
This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but
sex does sound nice right now. 
            It sounds so nice that I grab
my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my
vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top
of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so
wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other
hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and
out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my
cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed
sheets. 
The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off.
Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man
since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my
bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except
for me. 
: stellarsteele:
Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))).
Prologue
            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned
out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me
creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him. 
            I am anxious for another romantic
experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but
this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up.
My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with
unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. 
Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly,
but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a
good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but
I’ve learned to work with what I have.
I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot
of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence
of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. 
I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck
with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my
mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in
college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together.
I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going
to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out
of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super
hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college
cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. 
I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take
this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need
right now. 
Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am
not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected…
Day 1
            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by
cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that
desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of
clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school. 
            After, I went for a run in my
neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social
distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules,
but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the
world goes to shit.
            I laid on my bed for a while and
ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that
since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell
asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big
part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them. 
            Next, I checked my school email and
discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I
have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor
will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.
            I checked my Instagram feed and
ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which
was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media
posts.
Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new
album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up
with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more
time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media;
get laid. 
This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but
sex does sound nice right now. 
            It sounds so nice that I grab
my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my
vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top
of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so
wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other
hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and
out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my
cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed
sheets. 
The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off.
Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man
since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my
bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except
for me. 

        

            
            

                
                
                    stellarsteele:
Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))).
Prologue
            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned
out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me
creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him. 
            I am anxious for another romantic
experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but
this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up.
My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with
unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. 
Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly,
but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a
good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but
I’ve learned to work with what I have.
I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot
of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence
of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. 
I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck
with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my
mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in
college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together.
I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going
to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out
of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super
hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college
cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. 
I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take
this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need
right now. 
Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am
not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected…
Day 1
            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by
cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that
desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of
clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school. 
            After, I went for a run in my
neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social
distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules,
but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the
world goes to shit.
            I laid on my bed for a while and
ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that
since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell
asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big
part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them. 
            Next, I checked my school email and
discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I
have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor
will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.
            I checked my Instagram feed and
ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which
was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media
posts.
Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new
album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up
with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more
time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media;
get laid. 
This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but
sex does sound nice right now. 
            It sounds so nice that I grab
my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my
vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top
of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so
wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other
hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and
out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my
cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed
sheets. 
The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off.
Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man
since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my
bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except
for me. 
: stellarsteele:
Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))).
Prologue
            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned
out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me
creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him. 
            I am anxious for another romantic
experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but
this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up.
My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with
unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. 
Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly,
but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a
good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but
I’ve learned to work with what I have.
I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot
of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence
of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. 
I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck
with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my
mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in
college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together.
I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going
to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out
of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super
hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college
cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. 
I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take
this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need
right now. 
Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am
not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected…
Day 1
            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by
cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that
desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of
clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school. 
            After, I went for a run in my
neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social
distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules,
but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the
world goes to shit.
            I laid on my bed for a while and
ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that
since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell
asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big
part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them. 
            Next, I checked my school email and
discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I
have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor
will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.
            I checked my Instagram feed and
ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which
was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media
posts.
Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new
album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up
with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more
time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media;
get laid. 
This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but
sex does sound nice right now. 
            It sounds so nice that I grab
my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my
vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top
of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so
wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other
hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and
out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my
cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed
sheets. 
The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off.
Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man
since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my
bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except
for me. 

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        stellarsteele:
Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))).
Prologue
            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned
out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me
creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him. 
            I am anxious for another romantic
experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but
this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up.
My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with
unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. 
Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly,
but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a
good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but
I’ve learned to work with what I have.
I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot
of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence
of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. 
I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck
with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my
mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in
college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together.
I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going
to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out
of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super
hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college
cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. 
I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take
this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need
right now. 
Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am
not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected…
Day 1
            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by
cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that
desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of
clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school. 
            After, I went for a run in my
neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social
distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules,
but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the
world goes to shit.
            I laid on my bed for a while and
ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that
since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell
asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big
part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them. 
            Next, I checked my school email and
discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I
have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor
will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.
            I checked my Instagram feed and
ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which
was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media
posts.
Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new
album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up
with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more
time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media;
get laid. 
This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but
sex does sound nice right now. 
            It sounds so nice that I grab
my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my
vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top
of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so
wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other
hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and
out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my
cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed
sheets. 
The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off.
Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man
since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my
bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except
for me. 
: stellarsteele:
Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))).
Prologue
            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned
out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me
creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him. 
            I am anxious for another romantic
experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but
this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up.
My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with
unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. 
Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly,
but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a
good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but
I’ve learned to work with what I have.
I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot
of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence
of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. 
I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck
with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my
mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in
college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together.
I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going
to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out
of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super
hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college
cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. 
I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take
this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need
right now. 
Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am
not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected…
Day 1
            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by
cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that
desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of
clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school. 
            After, I went for a run in my
neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social
distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules,
but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the
world goes to shit.
            I laid on my bed for a while and
ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that
since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell
asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big
part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them. 
            Next, I checked my school email and
discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I
have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor
will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.
            I checked my Instagram feed and
ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which
was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media
posts.
Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new
album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up
with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more
time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media;
get laid. 
This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but
sex does sound nice right now. 
            It sounds so nice that I grab
my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my
vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top
of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so
wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other
hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and
out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my
cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed
sheets. 
The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off.
Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man
since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my
bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except
for me. 

        

            
            

                
                
                    stellarsteele:
Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))).
Prologue
            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned
out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me
creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him. 
            I am anxious for another romantic
experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but
this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up.
My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with
unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. 
Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly,
but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a
good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but
I’ve learned to work with what I have.
I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot
of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence
of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. 
I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck
with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my
mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in
college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together.
I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going
to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out
of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super
hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college
cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. 
I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take
this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need
right now. 
Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am
not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected…
Day 1
            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by
cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that
desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of
clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school. 
            After, I went for a run in my
neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social
distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules,
but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the
world goes to shit.
            I laid on my bed for a while and
ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that
since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell
asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big
part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them. 
            Next, I checked my school email and
discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I
have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor
will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.
            I checked my Instagram feed and
ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which
was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media
posts.
Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new
album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up
with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more
time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media;
get laid. 
This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but
sex does sound nice right now. 
            It sounds so nice that I grab
my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my
vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top
of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so
wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other
hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and
out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my
cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed
sheets. 
The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off.
Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man
since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my
bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except
for me. 
: stellarsteele:
Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))).
Prologue
            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned
out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me
creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him. 
            I am anxious for another romantic
experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but
this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up.
My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with
unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. 
Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly,
but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a
good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but
I’ve learned to work with what I have.
I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot
of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence
of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. 
I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck
with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my
mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in
college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together.
I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going
to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out
of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super
hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college
cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. 
I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take
this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need
right now. 
Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am
not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected…
Day 1
            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by
cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that
desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of
clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school. 
            After, I went for a run in my
neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social
distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules,
but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the
world goes to shit.
            I laid on my bed for a while and
ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that
since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell
asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big
part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them. 
            Next, I checked my school email and
discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I
have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor
will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.
            I checked my Instagram feed and
ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which
was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media
posts.
Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new
album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up
with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more
time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media;
get laid. 
This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but
sex does sound nice right now. 
            It sounds so nice that I grab
my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my
vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top
of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so
wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other
hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and
out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my
cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed
sheets. 
The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off.
Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man
since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my
bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except
for me. 

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        stellarsteele:
Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))).
Prologue
            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned
out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me
creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him. 
            I am anxious for another romantic
experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but
this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up.
My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with
unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. 
Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly,
but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a
good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but
I’ve learned to work with what I have.
I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot
of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence
of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. 
I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck
with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my
mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in
college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together.
I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going
to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out
of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super
hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college
cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. 
I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take
this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need
right now. 
Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am
not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected…
Day 1
            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by
cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that
desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of
clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school. 
            After, I went for a run in my
neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social
distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules,
but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the
world goes to shit.
            I laid on my bed for a while and
ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that
since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell
asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big
part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them. 
            Next, I checked my school email and
discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I
have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor
will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.
            I checked my Instagram feed and
ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which
was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media
posts.
Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new
album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up
with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more
time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media;
get laid. 
This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but
sex does sound nice right now. 
            It sounds so nice that I grab
my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my
vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top
of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so
wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other
hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and
out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my
cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed
sheets. 
The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off.
Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man
since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my
bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except
for me. 
: stellarsteele:
Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))).
Prologue
            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned
out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me
creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him. 
            I am anxious for another romantic
experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but
this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up.
My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with
unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. 
Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly,
but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a
good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but
I’ve learned to work with what I have.
I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot
of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence
of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. 
I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck
with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my
mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in
college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together.
I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going
to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out
of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super
hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college
cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. 
I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take
this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need
right now. 
Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am
not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected…
Day 1
            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by
cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that
desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of
clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school. 
            After, I went for a run in my
neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social
distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules,
but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the
world goes to shit.
            I laid on my bed for a while and
ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that
since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell
asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big
part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them. 
            Next, I checked my school email and
discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I
have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor
will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.
            I checked my Instagram feed and
ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which
was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media
posts.
Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new
album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up
with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more
time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media;
get laid. 
This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but
sex does sound nice right now. 
            It sounds so nice that I grab
my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my
vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top
of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so
wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other
hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and
out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my
cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed
sheets. 
The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off.
Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man
since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my
bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except
for me. 

        

            
            

                
                
                    stellarsteele:
Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))).
Prologue
            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned
out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me
creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him. 
            I am anxious for another romantic
experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but
this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up.
My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with
unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. 
Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly,
but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a
good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but
I’ve learned to work with what I have.
I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot
of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence
of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. 
I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck
with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my
mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in
college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together.
I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going
to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out
of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super
hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college
cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. 
I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take
this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need
right now. 
Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am
not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected…
Day 1
            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by
cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that
desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of
clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school. 
            After, I went for a run in my
neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social
distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules,
but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the
world goes to shit.
            I laid on my bed for a while and
ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that
since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell
asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big
part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them. 
            Next, I checked my school email and
discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I
have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor
will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.
            I checked my Instagram feed and
ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which
was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media
posts.
Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new
album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up
with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more
time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media;
get laid. 
This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but
sex does sound nice right now. 
            It sounds so nice that I grab
my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my
vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top
of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so
wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other
hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and
out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my
cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed
sheets. 
The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off.
Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man
since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my
bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except
for me. 
: stellarsteele:
Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))).
Prologue
            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned
out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me
creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him. 
            I am anxious for another romantic
experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but
this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up.
My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with
unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. 
Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly,
but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a
good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but
I’ve learned to work with what I have.
I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot
of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence
of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. 
I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck
with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my
mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in
college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together.
I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going
to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out
of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super
hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college
cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. 
I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take
this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need
right now. 
Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am
not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected…
Day 1
            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by
cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that
desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of
clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school. 
            After, I went for a run in my
neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social
distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules,
but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the
world goes to shit.
            I laid on my bed for a while and
ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that
since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell
asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big
part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them. 
            Next, I checked my school email and
discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I
have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor
will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.
            I checked my Instagram feed and
ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which
was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media
posts.
Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new
album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up
with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more
time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media;
get laid. 
This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but
sex does sound nice right now. 
            It sounds so nice that I grab
my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my
vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top
of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so
wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other
hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and
out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my
cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed
sheets. 
The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off.
Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man
since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my
bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except
for me. 

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        omgcheckplease:

★ Notes on Year 4, Comic 26 - Check, Please ★In the summer of 2013, I was fully mourning my completed time as an undergraduate at Yale. One of the college’s traditional songs—which they strategically have students sing during their first weeks as Yalies and then again at the moment we’re conferred our degrees—goes like this:Bright College years, with pleasure rife,The shortest, gladdest years of life;How swiftly are ye gliding by!Oh, why doth time so quickly fly?Et cetera. The first time you sing it, you mumble the words and don’t know a single person around you. The last time you sing it, wearing the mortarboard and gown, you’ve got the lyrics memorized and you’re surrounded by some of the most important people in your life.That summer, with “How bright will seem, through mem’ry’s haze/ Those happy, golden, bygone days!” still ringing in my ears, I started CHECK, PLEASE. The comic’s first panels emerged on an ancient laptop, through a borrowed bamboo tablet, and on a free drawing program called gnu-IMPShop. I had no plan. I wanted to explore my newfound fascination with hockey and share silly cartoons on Tumblr. But unconsciously, I also wanted to pour the nostalgia of those bright college years into the Haus, Faber, Samwell, and Bitty’s story. I wanted to bottle up those moments where we grow and change and fall down and pick ourselves back up. Drawing CHECK, PLEASE was how I revisited those experiences and how I sifted through the bittersweet feeling of concluding something I loved. Perhaps this is why finishing CHECK, PLEASE calls back those same emotions. Just as Bitty would bake affection into a pie, I might have encoded into CHECK, PLEASE the heartfelt fondness I had for my time in college, the love of the friends I made there, and the gratitude I have for my own growth.I have always found it easier to express gratitude face to face. And even though I would not have gotten to meet all of you, the greatest downside of being unable to participate in a book tour is that I can’t say thanks in person. I could write a thousand words, yet they couldn’t replace a high five at a bookstore signing or a handshake at a convention. I could write the blog post to end all blog posts, but it’s not the same as yelling with you about an episode or chatting about a fandom we both happen be in. For me, it’s those moments that somehow equate to my abundant appreciation for you, the reader.I look forward to the day when I can let my actions speak louder than my words!In the meantime: thank you. I am incredibly blessed to get to create a story and then share it. This is all I want to do in life. These characters get to have a readership overflowing with love and enthusiasm for them. This comic, somehow, has found ambassadors. This story gets to be told. Thank you! I’m excited to share with you the unusual, fun, and hopeful narratives I’m working hard to develop.So with that, I’ll sign off on the last blog post! Thank you for reading this comic. Thank you for sharing it with friends. Thank you for caring about Bitty’s story and CHECK, PLEASE.Thank you!John J. Johnson.Just kidding, it’s Ngozi. :^) Tee hee. Bye now!: omgcheckplease:

★ Notes on Year 4, Comic 26 - Check, Please ★In the summer of 2013, I was fully mourning my completed time as an undergraduate at Yale. One of the college’s traditional songs—which they strategically have students sing during their first weeks as Yalies and then again at the moment we’re conferred our degrees—goes like this:Bright College years, with pleasure rife,The shortest, gladdest years of life;How swiftly are ye gliding by!Oh, why doth time so quickly fly?Et cetera. The first time you sing it, you mumble the words and don’t know a single person around you. The last time you sing it, wearing the mortarboard and gown, you’ve got the lyrics memorized and you’re surrounded by some of the most important people in your life.That summer, with “How bright will seem, through mem’ry’s haze/ Those happy, golden, bygone days!” still ringing in my ears, I started CHECK, PLEASE. The comic’s first panels emerged on an ancient laptop, through a borrowed bamboo tablet, and on a free drawing program called gnu-IMPShop. I had no plan. I wanted to explore my newfound fascination with hockey and share silly cartoons on Tumblr. But unconsciously, I also wanted to pour the nostalgia of those bright college years into the Haus, Faber, Samwell, and Bitty’s story. I wanted to bottle up those moments where we grow and change and fall down and pick ourselves back up. Drawing CHECK, PLEASE was how I revisited those experiences and how I sifted through the bittersweet feeling of concluding something I loved. Perhaps this is why finishing CHECK, PLEASE calls back those same emotions. Just as Bitty would bake affection into a pie, I might have encoded into CHECK, PLEASE the heartfelt fondness I had for my time in college, the love of the friends I made there, and the gratitude I have for my own growth.I have always found it easier to express gratitude face to face. And even though I would not have gotten to meet all of you, the greatest downside of being unable to participate in a book tour is that I can’t say thanks in person. I could write a thousand words, yet they couldn’t replace a high five at a bookstore signing or a handshake at a convention. I could write the blog post to end all blog posts, but it’s not the same as yelling with you about an episode or chatting about a fandom we both happen be in. For me, it’s those moments that somehow equate to my abundant appreciation for you, the reader.I look forward to the day when I can let my actions speak louder than my words!In the meantime: thank you. I am incredibly blessed to get to create a story and then share it. This is all I want to do in life. These characters get to have a readership overflowing with love and enthusiasm for them. This comic, somehow, has found ambassadors. This story gets to be told. Thank you! I’m excited to share with you the unusual, fun, and hopeful narratives I’m working hard to develop.So with that, I’ll sign off on the last blog post! Thank you for reading this comic. Thank you for sharing it with friends. Thank you for caring about Bitty’s story and CHECK, PLEASE.Thank you!John J. Johnson.Just kidding, it’s Ngozi. :^) Tee hee. Bye now!
        

            
            

                
                
                    omgcheckplease:

★ Notes on Year 4, Comic 26 - Check, Please ★In the summer of 2013, I was fully mourning my completed time as an undergraduate at Yale. One of the college’s traditional songs—which they strategically have students sing during their first weeks as Yalies and then again at the moment we’re conferred our degrees—goes like this:Bright College years, with pleasure rife,The shortest, gladdest years of life;How swiftly are ye gliding by!Oh, why doth time so quickly fly?Et cetera. The first time you sing it, you mumble the words and don’t know a single person around you. The last time you sing it, wearing the mortarboard and gown, you’ve got the lyrics memorized and you’re surrounded by some of the most important people in your life.That summer, with “How bright will seem, through mem’ry’s haze/ Those happy, golden, bygone days!” still ringing in my ears, I started CHECK, PLEASE. The comic’s first panels emerged on an ancient laptop, through a borrowed bamboo tablet, and on a free drawing program called gnu-IMPShop. I had no plan. I wanted to explore my newfound fascination with hockey and share silly cartoons on Tumblr. But unconsciously, I also wanted to pour the nostalgia of those bright college years into the Haus, Faber, Samwell, and Bitty’s story. I wanted to bottle up those moments where we grow and change and fall down and pick ourselves back up. Drawing CHECK, PLEASE was how I revisited those experiences and how I sifted through the bittersweet feeling of concluding something I loved. Perhaps this is why finishing CHECK, PLEASE calls back those same emotions. Just as Bitty would bake affection into a pie, I might have encoded into CHECK, PLEASE the heartfelt fondness I had for my time in college, the love of the friends I made there, and the gratitude I have for my own growth.I have always found it easier to express gratitude face to face. And even though I would not have gotten to meet all of you, the greatest downside of being unable to participate in a book tour is that I can’t say thanks in person. I could write a thousand words, yet they couldn’t replace a high five at a bookstore signing or a handshake at a convention. I could write the blog post to end all blog posts, but it’s not the same as yelling with you about an episode or chatting about a fandom we both happen be in. For me, it’s those moments that somehow equate to my abundant appreciation for you, the reader.I look forward to the day when I can let my actions speak louder than my words!In the meantime: thank you. I am incredibly blessed to get to create a story and then share it. This is all I want to do in life. These characters get to have a readership overflowing with love and enthusiasm for them. This comic, somehow, has found ambassadors. This story gets to be told. Thank you! I’m excited to share with you the unusual, fun, and hopeful narratives I’m working hard to develop.So with that, I’ll sign off on the last blog post! Thank you for reading this comic. Thank you for sharing it with friends. Thank you for caring about Bitty’s story and CHECK, PLEASE.Thank you!John J. Johnson.Just kidding, it’s Ngozi. :^) Tee hee. Bye now!: omgcheckplease:

★ Notes on Year 4, Comic 26 - Check, Please ★In the summer of 2013, I was fully mourning my completed time as an undergraduate at Yale. One of the college’s traditional songs—which they strategically have students sing during their first weeks as Yalies and then again at the moment we’re conferred our degrees—goes like this:Bright College years, with pleasure rife,The shortest, gladdest years of life;How swiftly are ye gliding by!Oh, why doth time so quickly fly?Et cetera. The first time you sing it, you mumble the words and don’t know a single person around you. The last time you sing it, wearing the mortarboard and gown, you’ve got the lyrics memorized and you’re surrounded by some of the most important people in your life.That summer, with “How bright will seem, through mem’ry’s haze/ Those happy, golden, bygone days!” still ringing in my ears, I started CHECK, PLEASE. The comic’s first panels emerged on an ancient laptop, through a borrowed bamboo tablet, and on a free drawing program called gnu-IMPShop. I had no plan. I wanted to explore my newfound fascination with hockey and share silly cartoons on Tumblr. But unconsciously, I also wanted to pour the nostalgia of those bright college years into the Haus, Faber, Samwell, and Bitty’s story. I wanted to bottle up those moments where we grow and change and fall down and pick ourselves back up. Drawing CHECK, PLEASE was how I revisited those experiences and how I sifted through the bittersweet feeling of concluding something I loved. Perhaps this is why finishing CHECK, PLEASE calls back those same emotions. Just as Bitty would bake affection into a pie, I might have encoded into CHECK, PLEASE the heartfelt fondness I had for my time in college, the love of the friends I made there, and the gratitude I have for my own growth.I have always found it easier to express gratitude face to face. And even though I would not have gotten to meet all of you, the greatest downside of being unable to participate in a book tour is that I can’t say thanks in person. I could write a thousand words, yet they couldn’t replace a high five at a bookstore signing or a handshake at a convention. I could write the blog post to end all blog posts, but it’s not the same as yelling with you about an episode or chatting about a fandom we both happen be in. For me, it’s those moments that somehow equate to my abundant appreciation for you, the reader.I look forward to the day when I can let my actions speak louder than my words!In the meantime: thank you. I am incredibly blessed to get to create a story and then share it. This is all I want to do in life. These characters get to have a readership overflowing with love and enthusiasm for them. This comic, somehow, has found ambassadors. This story gets to be told. Thank you! I’m excited to share with you the unusual, fun, and hopeful narratives I’m working hard to develop.So with that, I’ll sign off on the last blog post! Thank you for reading this comic. Thank you for sharing it with friends. Thank you for caring about Bitty’s story and CHECK, PLEASE.Thank you!John J. Johnson.Just kidding, it’s Ngozi. :^) Tee hee. Bye now!
                    
                
            

            
                
                
omgcheckplease:

★ Notes on Year 4, Comic 26 - Check, Please ★In the summer of 2013, I was fully mourning my completed time as an undergr...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        ups-dogs:On a dark and lonely night in the hills outside of Newberg, Oregon…a forlorn, feeble, famished, freezing, four-legged figure falters slowly towards my truck, trembling gingerly on arthritic limbs in the icy winter air.His grey muzzle and sorrowful eyes tell a sad tale of many years of hunger, pain and despair. A faint and sorrowful whimper emits from his throat as he gazes beseechingly at my bountiful box of biscuits, hoping against hope that I might ease his pangs of hunger and grant him one more night of survival by sharing a small morsel of sustenance with him.My heartstrings taut with compassion, I dig deep into my biscuit box and gently place 4 biscuits into his quivering jowls, praying with all my might that I have arrived in time to prevent his imminent starvation.And then…the magic happens.Like Popeye eating his can of spinach, an incredible transformation suddenly takes place. He is cured! The pain in his limbs is gone! His eyes sparkle! In less than a second, strength and vigor have returned to his formerly weak and malnourished body! In one bound he leaps from the steps of the truck and proceeds to to zoomies all about the yard like a puppy 12 years his junior, his speed turning him into a veritable blur, before running into the house thru his dog door. Through the living room window I see him leap up onto his spot on the couch next to the woodstove, a veritable blizzard of biscuit crumbs flying all over the lap of his human as he chomps happily away at the bounty of goodness that I have bestowed upon him. With tears of joy in my eyes I proceed to drive away, feeling a solemn pride in the knowledge that my generosity has saved this once-suffering dog from what was most certainly an imminent death from starvation. And to those of you who claim that I have merely been bamboozled and bewitched out of biscuits by a canine con artist, I say this; I am a trained professional with years of experience. Do I REALLY look like a guy who could get manipulated out of treats by a mere dog?By Scott Hodges: ups-dogs:On a dark and lonely night in the hills outside of Newberg, Oregon…a forlorn, feeble, famished, freezing, four-legged figure falters slowly towards my truck, trembling gingerly on arthritic limbs in the icy winter air.His grey muzzle and sorrowful eyes tell a sad tale of many years of hunger, pain and despair. A faint and sorrowful whimper emits from his throat as he gazes beseechingly at my bountiful box of biscuits, hoping against hope that I might ease his pangs of hunger and grant him one more night of survival by sharing a small morsel of sustenance with him.My heartstrings taut with compassion, I dig deep into my biscuit box and gently place 4 biscuits into his quivering jowls, praying with all my might that I have arrived in time to prevent his imminent starvation.And then…the magic happens.Like Popeye eating his can of spinach, an incredible transformation suddenly takes place. He is cured! The pain in his limbs is gone! His eyes sparkle! In less than a second, strength and vigor have returned to his formerly weak and malnourished body! In one bound he leaps from the steps of the truck and proceeds to to zoomies all about the yard like a puppy 12 years his junior, his speed turning him into a veritable blur, before running into the house thru his dog door. Through the living room window I see him leap up onto his spot on the couch next to the woodstove, a veritable blizzard of biscuit crumbs flying all over the lap of his human as he chomps happily away at the bounty of goodness that I have bestowed upon him. With tears of joy in my eyes I proceed to drive away, feeling a solemn pride in the knowledge that my generosity has saved this once-suffering dog from what was most certainly an imminent death from starvation. And to those of you who claim that I have merely been bamboozled and bewitched out of biscuits by a canine con artist, I say this; I am a trained professional with years of experience. Do I REALLY look like a guy who could get manipulated out of treats by a mere dog?By Scott Hodges
        

            
            

                
                
                    ups-dogs:On a dark and lonely night in the hills outside of Newberg, Oregon…a forlorn, feeble, famished, freezing, four-legged figure falters slowly towards my truck, trembling gingerly on arthritic limbs in the icy winter air.His grey muzzle and sorrowful eyes tell a sad tale of many years of hunger, pain and despair. A faint and sorrowful whimper emits from his throat as he gazes beseechingly at my bountiful box of biscuits, hoping against hope that I might ease his pangs of hunger and grant him one more night of survival by sharing a small morsel of sustenance with him.My heartstrings taut with compassion, I dig deep into my biscuit box and gently place 4 biscuits into his quivering jowls, praying with all my might that I have arrived in time to prevent his imminent starvation.And then…the magic happens.Like Popeye eating his can of spinach, an incredible transformation suddenly takes place. He is cured! The pain in his limbs is gone! His eyes sparkle! In less than a second, strength and vigor have returned to his formerly weak and malnourished body! In one bound he leaps from the steps of the truck and proceeds to to zoomies all about the yard like a puppy 12 years his junior, his speed turning him into a veritable blur, before running into the house thru his dog door. Through the living room window I see him leap up onto his spot on the couch next to the woodstove, a veritable blizzard of biscuit crumbs flying all over the lap of his human as he chomps happily away at the bounty of goodness that I have bestowed upon him. With tears of joy in my eyes I proceed to drive away, feeling a solemn pride in the knowledge that my generosity has saved this once-suffering dog from what was most certainly an imminent death from starvation. And to those of you who claim that I have merely been bamboozled and bewitched out of biscuits by a canine con artist, I say this; I am a trained professional with years of experience. Do I REALLY look like a guy who could get manipulated out of treats by a mere dog?By Scott Hodges: ups-dogs:On a dark and lonely night in the hills outside of Newberg, Oregon…a forlorn, feeble, famished, freezing, four-legged figure falters slowly towards my truck, trembling gingerly on arthritic limbs in the icy winter air.His grey muzzle and sorrowful eyes tell a sad tale of many years of hunger, pain and despair. A faint and sorrowful whimper emits from his throat as he gazes beseechingly at my bountiful box of biscuits, hoping against hope that I might ease his pangs of hunger and grant him one more night of survival by sharing a small morsel of sustenance with him.My heartstrings taut with compassion, I dig deep into my biscuit box and gently place 4 biscuits into his quivering jowls, praying with all my might that I have arrived in time to prevent his imminent starvation.And then…the magic happens.Like Popeye eating his can of spinach, an incredible transformation suddenly takes place. He is cured! The pain in his limbs is gone! His eyes sparkle! In less than a second, strength and vigor have returned to his formerly weak and malnourished body! In one bound he leaps from the steps of the truck and proceeds to to zoomies all about the yard like a puppy 12 years his junior, his speed turning him into a veritable blur, before running into the house thru his dog door. Through the living room window I see him leap up onto his spot on the couch next to the woodstove, a veritable blizzard of biscuit crumbs flying all over the lap of his human as he chomps happily away at the bounty of goodness that I have bestowed upon him. With tears of joy in my eyes I proceed to drive away, feeling a solemn pride in the knowledge that my generosity has saved this once-suffering dog from what was most certainly an imminent death from starvation. And to those of you who claim that I have merely been bamboozled and bewitched out of biscuits by a canine con artist, I say this; I am a trained professional with years of experience. Do I REALLY look like a guy who could get manipulated out of treats by a mere dog?By Scott Hodges
                    
                
            

            
                
                
ups-dogs:On a dark and lonely night in the hills outside of Newberg, Oregon…a forlorn, feeble, famished, freezing, four-legged figure fal...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        clothing-references:
clothing-references:

This isn’t related to my blog aesthetic but I’m tired of seeing posts where people are making others paranoid that they’re in a coma or something. You’re not. I know lots of us know it’s just a bad “joke,” but some people don’t have the luxury of being able to believe that after seeing others tell them otherwise.

You’re awake. Everything is okay.

Hey so I’ve been dealing with some horrible cases of dissociation recently. It makes me think things that don’t make sense. I wanted to bring this post back and add onto it.
Your life is real.
You are awake.
You aren’t lying on the ground or anything. No one is desperately trying to wake you.
I am one person living in Houston who made this post. I am a living, conscious breathing person and if I made this post and it reaches you, that means you are, too. You didn’t imagine this post up. I made it two years ago.
You aren’t dead. You aren’t seeing things. That light headed feeling is just a symptom. This isn’t a dream and you are going to be okay. I believe in you and I hope you get through this.
: clothing-references:
clothing-references:

This isn’t related to my blog aesthetic but I’m tired of seeing posts where people are making others paranoid that they’re in a coma or something. You’re not. I know lots of us know it’s just a bad “joke,” but some people don’t have the luxury of being able to believe that after seeing others tell them otherwise.

You’re awake. Everything is okay.

Hey so I’ve been dealing with some horrible cases of dissociation recently. It makes me think things that don’t make sense. I wanted to bring this post back and add onto it.
Your life is real.
You are awake.
You aren’t lying on the ground or anything. No one is desperately trying to wake you.
I am one person living in Houston who made this post. I am a living, conscious breathing person and if I made this post and it reaches you, that means you are, too. You didn’t imagine this post up. I made it two years ago.
You aren’t dead. You aren’t seeing things. That light headed feeling is just a symptom. This isn’t a dream and you are going to be okay. I believe in you and I hope you get through this.

        

            
            

                
                
                    clothing-references:
clothing-references:

This isn’t related to my blog aesthetic but I’m tired of seeing posts where people are making others paranoid that they’re in a coma or something. You’re not. I know lots of us know it’s just a bad “joke,” but some people don’t have the luxury of being able to believe that after seeing others tell them otherwise.

You’re awake. Everything is okay.

Hey so I’ve been dealing with some horrible cases of dissociation recently. It makes me think things that don’t make sense. I wanted to bring this post back and add onto it.
Your life is real.
You are awake.
You aren’t lying on the ground or anything. No one is desperately trying to wake you.
I am one person living in Houston who made this post. I am a living, conscious breathing person and if I made this post and it reaches you, that means you are, too. You didn’t imagine this post up. I made it two years ago.
You aren’t dead. You aren’t seeing things. That light headed feeling is just a symptom. This isn’t a dream and you are going to be okay. I believe in you and I hope you get through this.
: clothing-references:
clothing-references:

This isn’t related to my blog aesthetic but I’m tired of seeing posts where people are making others paranoid that they’re in a coma or something. You’re not. I know lots of us know it’s just a bad “joke,” but some people don’t have the luxury of being able to believe that after seeing others tell them otherwise.

You’re awake. Everything is okay.

Hey so I’ve been dealing with some horrible cases of dissociation recently. It makes me think things that don’t make sense. I wanted to bring this post back and add onto it.
Your life is real.
You are awake.
You aren’t lying on the ground or anything. No one is desperately trying to wake you.
I am one person living in Houston who made this post. I am a living, conscious breathing person and if I made this post and it reaches you, that means you are, too. You didn’t imagine this post up. I made it two years ago.
You aren’t dead. You aren’t seeing things. That light headed feeling is just a symptom. This isn’t a dream and you are going to be okay. I believe in you and I hope you get through this.

                    
                
            

            
                
                
clothing-references:
clothing-references:

This isn’t related to my blog aesthetic but I’m tired of seeing posts where people are making...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        Worst feeling: Worst feeling
        

            
            

                
                
                    Worst feeling: Worst feeling
                    
                
            

            
                
                
Worst feeling

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        what a feeling: what a feeling
        

            
            

                
                
                    what a feeling: what a feeling
                    
                
            

            
                
                
what a feeling

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        shed1nja:
salty-sadness22:

kintatsujo:

pretentioussongtitle:

disease-danger-darkness-silence:

captainroxythefoxy:

e-v-roslyn:

guu:

kuruluv:

catwithaknife:

https://www.vice.com/en_us/article/kzqpd9/heres-an-insane-story-about-a-rogue-music-teacher-cutting-a-kids-hair

what the fuck

i’m just gonna take this post for a moment so i can rant but like
i Hate how entitled adults can feel over a child’s hair!
it started when i was young myself, i wanted a mohawk, but my dad didn’t approve of that look on a “girl”, and insisted i’d regret such a bold cut. at 16 i was finally given full autonomy over my own head.
but then i have a son and everyone around us is trying to keep his hair short. when we finally moved out just me my partner and him, i told him he doesn’t need to get any haircuts he doesn’t want.
so he starts growing it out, it’s still short but coming on mid-length. his teacher makes a point to tell me it’s getting long as if i don’t have eyes. i hear her walking out with him one day talking to him about haircuts, as if to coax him into one. eventually i get child services called on me for ‘forcing a transgender lifestyle’ over what i can only assume is from a combination of me drawing cute ponies on his valentine box and letting him go to school in a ponytail.
he kept it short for awhile after but told me he wanted to grow it out again, so i let him of course. he comes home one day after getting a haircut at his grandpa’s and tells me he didn’t Want the haircut.
i ask why he got it then and learned he was bribed with a promise of a surprise IF he cut his hair.
tl;dr people need to back the hell up off of children and let them have owership of what’s on THEIR body! /rant


Same thing about getting a child to curl or straighten their hair. Or do anything with it. Just let kids have control over their bodies.


This happened to me when I was little too!! Growing up I had naturally tight Shirley Temple curls. The only problem was that you can’t get a hair brush through it if your life depended on it until it grew out over a few years. 
but This One Lady from church decided that leaving my hair messy and curly was child abuse and threatened to call social services on my family every damn time she saw me until one day she was the designated kid watcher and ho boy my momma tells me i came out with tears in my eyes and greasy slicked down hair and that’s where she ends the story because i think my mother beat her ass but yeah.
Leave kids hair alone.

I’m going to be honest, parents who are super-controlling of their children’s hair creep me the fuck out and I’m not entirely certain why except that I get a vague feeling they kind of relegate them to, “annoying talking doll” status.

I loved my daughter’s long blond hair. It was thick and wavy and beautiful but when she told me she wanted it cut short ‘like a boy’(she was four)  I took her to the salon and let her whack it off. 
The stylist was skeptical, ‘are you sure?” and the thing is, she said this to me, not my daughter. So I asked my girl ‘are you sure you want it cut short?’ She was. The hair went. The stylist acted nervous most of the way through like she was waiting for one of us to burst into tears, but it looked cute! And my daughter loved it! (And it’s been short ever since.)

Autonomy over your hair is bodily autonomy and we as a culture need to start holding bodily autonomy as sacred

My family, for years, wouldn’t let me dye/cut my hair really short. I could understand the dye, but the shortest they’d let me go is a bob. They even let me dye my hair before letting me go that short. I’m finally in control of my hair and my hair is one of my favorite things about myself. It’s an easy way to express myself.  
 Let kids do what they want with their hair! Let them have fun with their hair before they’re told to grow up and have ‘professional’ hair! 

My mom had a monopoly over my hair. Wouldn’t let me wear it natural, was obsessed with me having flyaways in the front and wouldn’t let me get out of the car in the mornings until they were flat, permed it when I was 10, wouldn’t let me cut it off for years after even though it was really damaged, vocally disapproved when I finally cut it as short as she’d let me.
When I moved out I stopped putting any heat in it and a few years later I cut it all off again. The second cut was my decision alone and it felt like a weight lifted off me, like no one could ever tell me what to do with it again or tell me “I needed it” to be pretty.



My stepfather and his stepfather forced a hair cut on me 10 years ago because they said i was too girly for their tastes.I grew my hair out ever since because ill never go fucking bald again like those two fucking neo nazis: shed1nja:
salty-sadness22:

kintatsujo:

pretentioussongtitle:

disease-danger-darkness-silence:

captainroxythefoxy:

e-v-roslyn:

guu:

kuruluv:

catwithaknife:

https://www.vice.com/en_us/article/kzqpd9/heres-an-insane-story-about-a-rogue-music-teacher-cutting-a-kids-hair

what the fuck

i’m just gonna take this post for a moment so i can rant but like
i Hate how entitled adults can feel over a child’s hair!
it started when i was young myself, i wanted a mohawk, but my dad didn’t approve of that look on a “girl”, and insisted i’d regret such a bold cut. at 16 i was finally given full autonomy over my own head.
but then i have a son and everyone around us is trying to keep his hair short. when we finally moved out just me my partner and him, i told him he doesn’t need to get any haircuts he doesn’t want.
so he starts growing it out, it’s still short but coming on mid-length. his teacher makes a point to tell me it’s getting long as if i don’t have eyes. i hear her walking out with him one day talking to him about haircuts, as if to coax him into one. eventually i get child services called on me for ‘forcing a transgender lifestyle’ over what i can only assume is from a combination of me drawing cute ponies on his valentine box and letting him go to school in a ponytail.
he kept it short for awhile after but told me he wanted to grow it out again, so i let him of course. he comes home one day after getting a haircut at his grandpa’s and tells me he didn’t Want the haircut.
i ask why he got it then and learned he was bribed with a promise of a surprise IF he cut his hair.
tl;dr people need to back the hell up off of children and let them have owership of what’s on THEIR body! /rant


Same thing about getting a child to curl or straighten their hair. Or do anything with it. Just let kids have control over their bodies.


This happened to me when I was little too!! Growing up I had naturally tight Shirley Temple curls. The only problem was that you can’t get a hair brush through it if your life depended on it until it grew out over a few years. 
but This One Lady from church decided that leaving my hair messy and curly was child abuse and threatened to call social services on my family every damn time she saw me until one day she was the designated kid watcher and ho boy my momma tells me i came out with tears in my eyes and greasy slicked down hair and that’s where she ends the story because i think my mother beat her ass but yeah.
Leave kids hair alone.

I’m going to be honest, parents who are super-controlling of their children’s hair creep me the fuck out and I’m not entirely certain why except that I get a vague feeling they kind of relegate them to, “annoying talking doll” status.

I loved my daughter’s long blond hair. It was thick and wavy and beautiful but when she told me she wanted it cut short ‘like a boy’(she was four)  I took her to the salon and let her whack it off. 
The stylist was skeptical, ‘are you sure?” and the thing is, she said this to me, not my daughter. So I asked my girl ‘are you sure you want it cut short?’ She was. The hair went. The stylist acted nervous most of the way through like she was waiting for one of us to burst into tears, but it looked cute! And my daughter loved it! (And it’s been short ever since.)

Autonomy over your hair is bodily autonomy and we as a culture need to start holding bodily autonomy as sacred

My family, for years, wouldn’t let me dye/cut my hair really short. I could understand the dye, but the shortest they’d let me go is a bob. They even let me dye my hair before letting me go that short. I’m finally in control of my hair and my hair is one of my favorite things about myself. It’s an easy way to express myself.  
 Let kids do what they want with their hair! Let them have fun with their hair before they’re told to grow up and have ‘professional’ hair! 

My mom had a monopoly over my hair. Wouldn’t let me wear it natural, was obsessed with me having flyaways in the front and wouldn’t let me get out of the car in the mornings until they were flat, permed it when I was 10, wouldn’t let me cut it off for years after even though it was really damaged, vocally disapproved when I finally cut it as short as she’d let me.
When I moved out I stopped putting any heat in it and a few years later I cut it all off again. The second cut was my decision alone and it felt like a weight lifted off me, like no one could ever tell me what to do with it again or tell me “I needed it” to be pretty.



My stepfather and his stepfather forced a hair cut on me 10 years ago because they said i was too girly for their tastes.I grew my hair out ever since because ill never go fucking bald again like those two fucking neo nazis
        

            
            

                
                
                    shed1nja:
salty-sadness22:

kintatsujo:

pretentioussongtitle:

disease-danger-darkness-silence:

captainroxythefoxy:

e-v-roslyn:

guu:

kuruluv:

catwithaknife:

https://www.vice.com/en_us/article/kzqpd9/heres-an-insane-story-about-a-rogue-music-teacher-cutting-a-kids-hair

what the fuck

i’m just gonna take this post for a moment so i can rant but like
i Hate how entitled adults can feel over a child’s hair!
it started when i was young myself, i wanted a mohawk, but my dad didn’t approve of that look on a “girl”, and insisted i’d regret such a bold cut. at 16 i was finally given full autonomy over my own head.
but then i have a son and everyone around us is trying to keep his hair short. when we finally moved out just me my partner and him, i told him he doesn’t need to get any haircuts he doesn’t want.
so he starts growing it out, it’s still short but coming on mid-length. his teacher makes a point to tell me it’s getting long as if i don’t have eyes. i hear her walking out with him one day talking to him about haircuts, as if to coax him into one. eventually i get child services called on me for ‘forcing a transgender lifestyle’ over what i can only assume is from a combination of me drawing cute ponies on his valentine box and letting him go to school in a ponytail.
he kept it short for awhile after but told me he wanted to grow it out again, so i let him of course. he comes home one day after getting a haircut at his grandpa’s and tells me he didn’t Want the haircut.
i ask why he got it then and learned he was bribed with a promise of a surprise IF he cut his hair.
tl;dr people need to back the hell up off of children and let them have owership of what’s on THEIR body! /rant


Same thing about getting a child to curl or straighten their hair. Or do anything with it. Just let kids have control over their bodies.


This happened to me when I was little too!! Growing up I had naturally tight Shirley Temple curls. The only problem was that you can’t get a hair brush through it if your life depended on it until it grew out over a few years. 
but This One Lady from church decided that leaving my hair messy and curly was child abuse and threatened to call social services on my family every damn time she saw me until one day she was the designated kid watcher and ho boy my momma tells me i came out with tears in my eyes and greasy slicked down hair and that’s where she ends the story because i think my mother beat her ass but yeah.
Leave kids hair alone.

I’m going to be honest, parents who are super-controlling of their children’s hair creep me the fuck out and I’m not entirely certain why except that I get a vague feeling they kind of relegate them to, “annoying talking doll” status.

I loved my daughter’s long blond hair. It was thick and wavy and beautiful but when she told me she wanted it cut short ‘like a boy’(she was four)  I took her to the salon and let her whack it off. 
The stylist was skeptical, ‘are you sure?” and the thing is, she said this to me, not my daughter. So I asked my girl ‘are you sure you want it cut short?’ She was. The hair went. The stylist acted nervous most of the way through like she was waiting for one of us to burst into tears, but it looked cute! And my daughter loved it! (And it’s been short ever since.)

Autonomy over your hair is bodily autonomy and we as a culture need to start holding bodily autonomy as sacred

My family, for years, wouldn’t let me dye/cut my hair really short. I could understand the dye, but the shortest they’d let me go is a bob. They even let me dye my hair before letting me go that short. I’m finally in control of my hair and my hair is one of my favorite things about myself. It’s an easy way to express myself.  
 Let kids do what they want with their hair! Let them have fun with their hair before they’re told to grow up and have ‘professional’ hair! 

My mom had a monopoly over my hair. Wouldn’t let me wear it natural, was obsessed with me having flyaways in the front and wouldn’t let me get out of the car in the mornings until they were flat, permed it when I was 10, wouldn’t let me cut it off for years after even though it was really damaged, vocally disapproved when I finally cut it as short as she’d let me.
When I moved out I stopped putting any heat in it and a few years later I cut it all off again. The second cut was my decision alone and it felt like a weight lifted off me, like no one could ever tell me what to do with it again or tell me “I needed it” to be pretty.



My stepfather and his stepfather forced a hair cut on me 10 years ago because they said i was too girly for their tastes.I grew my hair out ever since because ill never go fucking bald again like those two fucking neo nazis: shed1nja:
salty-sadness22:

kintatsujo:

pretentioussongtitle:

disease-danger-darkness-silence:

captainroxythefoxy:

e-v-roslyn:

guu:

kuruluv:

catwithaknife:

https://www.vice.com/en_us/article/kzqpd9/heres-an-insane-story-about-a-rogue-music-teacher-cutting-a-kids-hair

what the fuck

i’m just gonna take this post for a moment so i can rant but like
i Hate how entitled adults can feel over a child’s hair!
it started when i was young myself, i wanted a mohawk, but my dad didn’t approve of that look on a “girl”, and insisted i’d regret such a bold cut. at 16 i was finally given full autonomy over my own head.
but then i have a son and everyone around us is trying to keep his hair short. when we finally moved out just me my partner and him, i told him he doesn’t need to get any haircuts he doesn’t want.
so he starts growing it out, it’s still short but coming on mid-length. his teacher makes a point to tell me it’s getting long as if i don’t have eyes. i hear her walking out with him one day talking to him about haircuts, as if to coax him into one. eventually i get child services called on me for ‘forcing a transgender lifestyle’ over what i can only assume is from a combination of me drawing cute ponies on his valentine box and letting him go to school in a ponytail.
he kept it short for awhile after but told me he wanted to grow it out again, so i let him of course. he comes home one day after getting a haircut at his grandpa’s and tells me he didn’t Want the haircut.
i ask why he got it then and learned he was bribed with a promise of a surprise IF he cut his hair.
tl;dr people need to back the hell up off of children and let them have owership of what’s on THEIR body! /rant


Same thing about getting a child to curl or straighten their hair. Or do anything with it. Just let kids have control over their bodies.


This happened to me when I was little too!! Growing up I had naturally tight Shirley Temple curls. The only problem was that you can’t get a hair brush through it if your life depended on it until it grew out over a few years. 
but This One Lady from church decided that leaving my hair messy and curly was child abuse and threatened to call social services on my family every damn time she saw me until one day she was the designated kid watcher and ho boy my momma tells me i came out with tears in my eyes and greasy slicked down hair and that’s where she ends the story because i think my mother beat her ass but yeah.
Leave kids hair alone.

I’m going to be honest, parents who are super-controlling of their children’s hair creep me the fuck out and I’m not entirely certain why except that I get a vague feeling they kind of relegate them to, “annoying talking doll” status.

I loved my daughter’s long blond hair. It was thick and wavy and beautiful but when she told me she wanted it cut short ‘like a boy’(she was four)  I took her to the salon and let her whack it off. 
The stylist was skeptical, ‘are you sure?” and the thing is, she said this to me, not my daughter. So I asked my girl ‘are you sure you want it cut short?’ She was. The hair went. The stylist acted nervous most of the way through like she was waiting for one of us to burst into tears, but it looked cute! And my daughter loved it! (And it’s been short ever since.)

Autonomy over your hair is bodily autonomy and we as a culture need to start holding bodily autonomy as sacred

My family, for years, wouldn’t let me dye/cut my hair really short. I could understand the dye, but the shortest they’d let me go is a bob. They even let me dye my hair before letting me go that short. I’m finally in control of my hair and my hair is one of my favorite things about myself. It’s an easy way to express myself.  
 Let kids do what they want with their hair! Let them have fun with their hair before they’re told to grow up and have ‘professional’ hair! 

My mom had a monopoly over my hair. Wouldn’t let me wear it natural, was obsessed with me having flyaways in the front and wouldn’t let me get out of the car in the mornings until they were flat, permed it when I was 10, wouldn’t let me cut it off for years after even though it was really damaged, vocally disapproved when I finally cut it as short as she’d let me.
When I moved out I stopped putting any heat in it and a few years later I cut it all off again. The second cut was my decision alone and it felt like a weight lifted off me, like no one could ever tell me what to do with it again or tell me “I needed it” to be pretty.



My stepfather and his stepfather forced a hair cut on me 10 years ago because they said i was too girly for their tastes.I grew my hair out ever since because ill never go fucking bald again like those two fucking neo nazis
                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    


    
	

        
	

    




                    

                

                

                    




    

        
        

            
            

              
            

        

        
        
        

            

            
            
                
                    
                        

                            

                                
                                
                                
                            

                            
                            

                                
                                    These 17 Fractured memes sum up how everyone is feeling right now
                                
                            

                            
                        

                    
                
            
                
                    
                        

                            

                                
                            

                            
                            

                                
                                    These 'Dead to Me' Memes Perfectly Describe Everything Netflix Fans Are Feeling Right Now
                                
                            

                            
                        

                    
                
            
                
                    
                        

                            

                                
                            

                            
                            

                                
                                    9 Samwell Tarly Memes From 'Game Of Thrones' That Prove Fans Were Feeling His Pain