#i promise i'm mostly even a functional person and everything

[1d1195]

Sun-Kissed II

Alrighty, the first part of Sun-Kissed is here. This is the second and final part. Just over 8.1k words. It picks up right where the last part let off. I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: More 18+ things happening here. Public sex (kinda), oral sex. If you’re not into this, I wouldn’t read it. There's some minor angst but it's really mostly fluff still.

Once more reminding everyone I know how impractical love at first sight is now that I'm a full grown adult, however I fully believe in love at first sight for Harry Styles.

--

“This is not the kind of beach vacation you had in mind, I’m sure.”

“Kitten, it’s so much better, because of you,” he pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear. “I’ll stay all night,” he promised her.

The research on love at first sight was no longer a worry. She had all the proof she needed right here.

It was so surreal having dinner with Harry’s mom and sister. They were a delight. She could see where Harry got his charm, his lovely looks, and just his wonderful personality. He was touchy, but not inappropriate. She insisted she help with dinner, and he pressed a hand to the middle of her back while she worked on getting the plates from her cabinet for the table. Immediately, she could feel her brain returning to normal functionality. While they spent a good hour on the beach kissing and holding one another watching the sunrise, the thought of leaving him for any extensive amount of time after she just fucked herself on his leg made her extremely disoriented.

Harry pressed a kiss to the back of her neck as he hovered beside her while she helped him cook the fish on the grill. “Y’look so pretty,” he said. She did change despite all three of them saying it wasn’t necessary, just a black tank top tucked into a pair of jean shorts to make her feel a little more presentable. It was by far the most boring look on the planet, but she liked the fact that Harry thought she was pretty. She tried not to blush too much, and she really didn’t want to overwhelm his family with their PDA. Even though she really wanted to wrap herself around him like a koala to a tree.

When they sat down to eat, Harry sat beside her, resting his hand on her knee, drawing small little circles along her skin. Anne complimented both her cottage and Harry’s. She thanked her no less than thirty times for letting them intrude for dinner. She already, insanely, adored Anne. She reminded her so much of her own mom who she missed a lot during the summer months, when no one wanted to set foot around this town. “Are you going to watch the sunset later?” She asked.

“That was the plan. And then ice cream of course,” Harry smirked.

“Oh, please come with us!” Gemma cheered. She loved Gemma too. It was effortless. Everything about Harry entering her life seemed so effortless. Gemma was so funny and lovely. She thought Harry must have had the best childhood with a sister like her in his life.

“I really don’t want to intrude,” she said kindly.

Both women rolled their eyes. “Like Harry made us intrude on you for dinner? Please,” Anne scoffed. “We want you to.”

She glanced at Harry who simply smiled at her, delight dancing in his green eyes waiting for her answer. “You’ll all need sweatshirts,” she told them.

*

Gemma and his mum walked out a bit on the tidal flats to get some more pictures at different angles. She and Harry stayed put in the lifeguard stand once more. “Thank you for dinner,” he murmured in her hair. This time he made no fuss about getting as close to her as possible. He felt better having as much physical contact with her as allowable. Harry was situated on the actual seat of the stand while she sat on the floor of it, between his legs. He leaned forward to kiss the top of her head and speak to her.

“Thank you. I’m sorry—”

“Shh,” he hushed. “Nothing t’be sorry ‘bout.”

He played with her hair letting his fingers get caught in the waves and gently tugged through them to avoid it knotting and hurting later when she needed to brush it. He spotted his sister taking a picture of the pair of them, but he didn’t bring it to her attention. Instead, he focused on her hair, mindlessly braiding it. “Are you braiding my hair?” She giggled.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You are...” she sighed and tilted her head back a bit. “I’m very glad I met you.”

Harry wanted to sleep in the same bed as her. He didn’t even care if anything sexual happened. He just wanted to be as close as humanly possible to her. Unfortunately, his mother and sister were totally killing the vibe tonight for that to happen. “They leave in the evening, the day after tomorrow,” he murmured. “Then I want t’kiss y’on every surface of Sea View. And watch another sunrise with you.”  She shuddered, nodded mutely. His voice was utterly dreamy. She immediately clenched her thighs together for some relief. He inhaled sharply. “If y’clench those pretty thighs together in front of me again, love, m’gonna have t’fuck you before they leave, and I don’t know how we’ll manage t’hide that.”

It took every bit of self-control in her not to do it again. He was a little bossy. It made her ache of course between her legs and she honestly thought of doing it just to spite him. Just so he could figure out how he could fuck her without letting his family know. Make him sweat because it seemed entirely unfair that she would have to use her own fingers before falling asleep tonight instead of his thigh...or his dick.

“Did I go too far?” He asked quietly. He sounded concerned, but not quite remorseful. She was pretty sure he knew why she was silent, and he was just trying to make her a little crazier. He slid his hand down her arm, grabbing the elastic from her wrist because not once did he stop his fingers from braiding her hair. Saying salacious things but continuing the sweet gesture. The dichotomy of his personality was overwhelming.

“I’m getting an ice cream cone just so you have to watch me lick it,” she whispered.

He groaned and dropped his face to her neck, tugged her around the waist so she was in his lap. She could feel the bulge of his dick pressed against the back of her thighs. “Can’t believe I invited them.” She smiled and dropped to the side of his lap, draping her legs across his lap so his erection was covered but she wouldn’t tease him—even though she wanted to. “Didn’t know I was going t’meet the goddess of the sun on m’vacation,” he mumbled. “Never would have invited them.”

She laughed and shook her head at him. “You’re something else, Harry.”

*

He spent the entire day away from her and it felt like agony, especially since the only relief he got between his legs was his hand in that outdoor shower where he imagined her licking him the same way she licked her ice cream cone the night before. At least his brain was functioning better.

I refilled your grill, so it’s all set if you need it. :) She messaged him around lunch time.

Come to the beach. He answered in response.

Enjoy your family, Harry.  She sent a kissing emoji.

I can’t stop thinking about your mouth.

Harry.

Please, love. Want you so bad.

Shhh...

“Are you texting her?” Gemma asked. Anne was down by the water, collecting shells and Gemma was reading her book, glancing up at Harry from the rim of her sunhat. She already knew the answer was yes because Harry couldn’t hide the absolute delight on his face.

There was no use trying to lie. He could feel his face smiling like a moron at the screen of his phone. She gave them her umbrella for the day and all the sunscreen she had. The unending kindness she had was admirable and he was so grateful to have met her. “Gemma, I think m’going t’fall in love with her.”

“I think you already are, you dummy,” she rolled her eyes. That was accurate. He probably was. “Just...be careful. I feel like neither of you are thinking about how you leave in a week, and you live in different parts of the state,” she reminded him. “I adore her. That’s not the problem. I just don’t want distance to hurt you...either of you.”

Harry hadn’t really thought of it like that. He’d been too focused on this bubble of salt air and love at first sight. He had been teaching at the same school for the last two years after being at two different schools prior. He loved where he was in his career, but if it meant he could be with her? He would apply to any school necessary. He’d have to wait and see where the week went, he supposed. He was sure they could do long-distance. They had all the same breaks and things to map out time for one another.

They’d always have the summer, too—he knew where she’d be.

“Do you want t’go in the water?” Gemma asked. “Mum looks like she has all the shells on the beach in her arms.”

Harry chuckled. “What’s she even collecting them for?” He asked, grabbing Gemma’s hand to help her up from her chair.

“She’s got some wreath vision in her head,” she shrugged as they headed toward the ocean. “Think she saw it in Better Homes and Gardens last month.” He nodded and scooped up his sister the second she was off guard, just as their toes hit the water, and he hurried out further to toss her into the waves. She spluttered as she came to the surface, and he was laughing. She splashed him and gave him a big wet hug. “I don’t know what that girl sees in you.”

*

Given that she was literally at the beach at the same time, Harry (and his family) insisted she sit with them on their last day of their visit. They chatted the whole day about almost everything and anything. She could see where Harry got his easy-going vibe. It was as easy to talk to them as it was with Harry. He rubbed lotion on her back, so she didn’t burn, and continued to find ways to touch her without being over the top. He brushed sand from her temple after she laid on the blanket beside him, so it wouldn’t get in her eye. Whenever they were near each other, he constantly pressed a hand to her hip in an effort not to be in her way as they reached for things out of the cooler.

Harry felt so much less tense than he had the day before. She spent their time apart running errands and letting Harry have a fun-filled day with his family. Being in her presence made him so instantly happy. It was impossible to believe he could fall so hard and so quickly. He truly wondered what was in the salt air that made his heart overtake all brain function.

Gemma shared at least three different fish recipes and vegetarian meals with her. “It’s hard to cook for us, I know,” she smiled.

“It’s not bad, I just run out of ideas. I am just very boring, and only like plain boring fish. Or salmon. That’s it.”

“That’s plenty, honestly. Don’t feel bad. I miss chicken teriyaki every day,” Gemma nodded.

Anne smiled at Harry from across their space while the two girls huddled over the jewelry, she got from a specialty shop in town. “Let me make a call and see if I can get us in. They’re very particular, but I know the owner,” she smiled. “We’ll have to leave early though; I don’t want to cut your beach day short.”

“No, that’s okay. Harry was going to take me to the shop you told him about with the sweatshirts?” Anne said.

“Oh, not fair! I want to go!” Gemma pouted.

“We could probably do both, but you may just wait a long time at the shop,” she explained. “There’s always so many people.”

Anne and Gemma shrugged. “You go to a tourist location, you’re going to deal with tourists,” she smiled.

Harry just watched all three women strategize showering and getting ready to go run their errands. She made her phone call and proudly stated they could go, just a half hour before they closed at four. It was like a military operation and Harry was overcome with how much he liked having his mom and sister get along with his beach goddess. “I just have to make him muffins before we go,” she rolled her eyes.

“You bake too?” Anne wondered.

“Oh yes. A real hobby of mine. Muffins are my specialty. I put cranberries in them with chocolate chips and an extra teaspoon of vanilla extract. Everyone goes crazy about them, but otherwise I just follow a basic muffin recipe.”

“You’ll have to save us some. Harry used to work at a bakery before he went into teaching,” Anne explained. “We’re huge fans of baked goods.”

“I’ll save you some,” she giggled, and Harry thought there wasn’t a vacation that would ever top this one.

*

The man at the jewelry store clearly wanted her as much as Harry wanted her. He couldn’t blame him though because she decided to torture him in a sundress. It was a pale pink with orangey red seashells patterned on the fabric. Sunglasses atop her head, he once more thought she looked like a princess, truly thought she would live in a sandcastle if she could. It was flowy, draped to the floor and Harry wanted nothing more than to crawl underneath the skirt and live there. She paid no mind, however, to the way the man looked at her. Nor did she seem to see the internal fight Harry was having of keeping it PG as the other person working helped Gemma and Anne while she looked at other beachy jewelry. “Oh, those are so pretty,” she cooed pointing to rustic looking earrings. A little chain dangled into two pearls with a seashell fitted at the end of the little chain. Harry pressed his hand to her back as he looked over her shoulder. “Do y’want them?” He murmured into her hair, his lips touching the back of her head. He hoped that her friend saw how close he was to her while he munched on the muffins.

Maybe Gemma was right. How was he supposed to be separated by practically a whole state from her when he couldn’t even fathom another man talking to her? She rolled her eyes, but she leaned back into his embrace. He wrapped an arm around the front of her hips, kissing the side of her head as she spoke. “No, Harry. You met me less than a week ago, I don’t want you buying me a $150 pair of earrings,” she rolled her eyes. Harry wanted to get them for her. He would probably steal them for her if she asked him to. He didn’t see what knowing her for less than a week had to do with it.

“Excuse me, can I get these?” Harry asked.

“Harry,” she whispered trying to turn out of his embrace. She caught the way Gemma and Anne exchanged a look and smiled to themselves as they were fitted with their own array of beach jewelry. Harry slid his card through effortlessly as soon as the man took them out of the case. He had a bit of chocolate on the corner of his mouth, but Harry couldn’t blame him. She shared a few with him and his family and she could see why people went nuts about them. He did notice the way he eyed the closeness of Harry’s arm draped around her waist. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Assurance you’ll let me come back next summer,” he winked.

“It should be a thank you for bothering her all week,” Gemma said as they headed back out to the car with their purchases. Harry drove and she sat in the back with Gemma so Anne could sit up front. Harry grabbed his mom’s hand unceremoniously and she thought it was the most adorable thing in the entire world while she directed him to the overcrowded shop.

“He wasn’t a bother,” she giggled sitting forward to squeeze his shoulder while he drove. He felt like there was electricity zipping through him, he worried he wouldn’t make it to the store in one piece if she did it again.

The overcrowded shop was actually very fun for people watching. Harry found his arm around her waist the entire time and insisted on getting matching sweatshirts in different colors. She rolled her eyes once more at how crazy this all was falling so quickly for a man she just met. She would have to research love at first sight and see if there was some evidence that it was normal to feel and behave this way.

Content again with their purchases, they returned to the car. “Dinner?” Anne asked. “We’d like to treat you for invading your home the first night,” she said sweetly.

“Seriously, it was the least—”

“Love, jus’ let us buy y’dinner,” Harry hummed. “Jus’ tell me where t’go,” he glanced at her in the rearview mirror and winked at her.

So, what was she supposed to do but enjoy dinner with Harry and his family again?

*

Anne gave her a huge hug, thanked her no less than thirty more times, and then hugged Harry and told him to be polite and give her space if she wanted it. There was nothing she wanted less. In fact, if she could have glued herself to Harry she probably would.

But she also thanked her for dinner and for being so kind to her that first night even though she looked crazy in her post-nap haze. Anne thought nothing of it and Harry wondered if he would ever get over the euphoria he felt, knowing his mum liked the girl he was already smitten with.

Gemma also hugged her and thanked her profusely. Told her she hoped to see her again and let her know if she needed recipes for Harry while he was there. The pair waved as Harry’s family left Sea View. They walked back to Sun-Kissed Cabana hand in hand. Fingers twisted together. She still needed to do the dishes from the muffins she made earlier. “Do you want to watch the sunset or go to—”

The second they were inside her little place; Harry dropped to his knees and lifted her skirt over his head. He didn’t even shut the front door. “Harry,” she gasped as his lips started the ascent up her leg, starting at her knee, trailing over her thigh, moving inward toward her underwear. Harry sighed, pressing a chaste kiss to the outside of her underwear. She put a hand on the wall as he lifted one of her legs to go over his shoulder and she wished her brain was working at full capacity. She would have requested the door close so no one walking or driving by could see right in the entry way and see her gasping at the man between her thighs. Anyone that even glanced would immediately know what was happening. She would ruin countless family vacations if anyone looked. People would glare at the indecency, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. The only reprieve from her worry was that the sun was setting, and they hadn’t turned on a light.

“Can I make y’feel good, love? Please?” He begged. “Been dreaming ‘bout y’on m’tongue, kitten,” his voice was nearly muffled by the fabric of her dress paired with the fact his voice was so low and deep.

How could she say no to him begging her? God, she wanted his tongue on her. “Yes, yes, please,” she whimpered closing her eyes as his finger hooked around her panties and pushed them to the side. He didn’t wait one second before his mouth was on her.

His lips wrapped around her clit, and he sucked hard making her cry out. She was certain she was dripping. Embarrassingly wet. If his mouth wasn’t there, she probably would have dripped on the floor. Harry groaned loudly against her sending vibrations through her. Her vibrator would never compare ever again. She whimpered, grabbing his head atop the fabric of her dress pressing him toward her. He pulled back pressing kisses to the inside of her thigh over his shoulder as he paused for a breath. “M’gonna live here,” he promised making her feel shaky on the one leg that remained on the floor.

“Please don’t stop,” she begged.

“No, no way, kitten,” he murmured kissing a trail back to where he wanted to be; almost as much as she wanted him there. “Gonna make y’feel s’good. Promise. Gonna make y’come all over m’tongue again and again,” his words were so sweetly said despite the filth coming from them. However, given that his lips and tongue were doing sinful things to the apex of her thighs, she shouldn’t have been so surprised that he could turn her to mush physically and mentally with his mouth.

He continued, lapping between the folds. He held her in place, pressing his hands into her fleshy backside. She moaned, wishing she was pressed against the wall so she could drop her head back. She was worried she would collapse and break his neck. Especially when he did make her come. “S’fucking good,” he groaned into her kissing her puffy clit. “God, you’re s’wet. S’that for me?” He wondered sliding his hand over her backside toward her hip, down her groin where his finger slid through her folds gathering the sticky moisture that accumulated from herself and from his mouth. “Did I get y’this wet?”

Oh, he was enjoying this way too much. She nodded breathlessly, unable to speak if she wanted to. He couldn’t even see her nodding. She was overheating. She wanted his mouth back on her. It was unfair he was torturing her with words and physical movements of his mouth. “Y-yes,” she managed. “Harry, please,” she croaked out afterwards.

He groaned at the way she sounded. Like heaven. Begging. He was rock hard, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to taste her. Wanted to have her come all over him so he could clean her up and do it again as fast as possible.

After massaging her clit between his thumb and forefinger and letting his middle finger slide through her folds he finally dipped it into her hole. She cried out at the invasion and ground into his hand. “S’that good, baby? S’that make y’feel better?” He asked. That mocking tone from the morning she got herself off on his thigh was back she wished she could bite back a retort, but his lips weren’t allowing any coherent thoughts through. “S’that make the ache go away?” She nodded again, not that he could see but she thought he probably knew it was true. It did make the ache go away except she wanted to come so badly. “Such a good girl,” he moaned licking her like he was the one that invented doing this. “Y’gonna come on m’tongue?” He asked.

“Please,” she thought she was going to cry if she didn’t get a release soon. His finger felt so good, wiggling around her walls looking for the spot that would drive her wild while his lips attached back to her clit. “Please, Harry, please,” she moaned, and Harry thought she might be crying but he couldn’t see with her dress covering his head. It was warm below the fabric, his hot breath, and her carnal need to come making all senses done for. He swore the only thing he knew to do was make her come hard. He picked up the pace of his finger dipping in and out of her soaking wet hole. She was starting to clench just barely while he kept flicking his tongue over her clit that he kept in place while sucking it between his lips. “Right there,” she cried. “Please, please, please,” she begged as the flutter of her walls began to work around his finger.

He brought his arm around her, pressing her close to him so he could continue licking and fingering her until finally she moaned and shook. “Yes, fuck,” she whimpered, and her perfect pussy clenched rapidly around his finger while he continued his licking of her clit so she could ride out her second orgasm due to Harry against his lips and hand. As the waves finished wracking through her she was breathing heavily as Harry lapped up all the wetness making insanely lewd slurping noises as he did—like he wanted every drop of her. When he finished placing the most ironically chaste kiss on her oversensitive clit, she sighed. The leg on his shoulder slumped to the floor. He pulled her panties down to her ankles, kissing down her leg as he did. Helped her step out of them.

“You’ll need new ones,” he stated as a matter of fact. Not a need to brag although he very well could have. As he flipped the curtain of her skirt back over his head to free him, standing in the same moment.

His hair was a little staticky from the fabric brushing his hair. He smiled at her, impishly it seemed. Her breath was uneven, and she tried to remember how to speak but couldn’t find the words to say. “Are y’alright? Was that okay, love?”

She nodded, her eyes fluttering as if she were about to pass out. She was speechless. It made him feel good that he could get that kind of reaction out of her, but he was worried he accidentally broke her. Her eyes looked glassy like she wasn’t fully coherent yet.

He smiled, sweeping her into his arms like she was a bride and carried her to the sofa. It was so quick, and he made it seem so effortless she didn’t have time to think about how heavy she must have been for him to do that.

He left her safely and softly on the couch, kissing her forehead before he made his way to the kitchen. The ache between her thighs was satiated and she could feel her brain cells reconnecting and hoped she’d be able to form a sentence at any moment.

“Harry?” She asked tentatively. Her voice was cracking. Blinking unsurely, at the lack of Harry beside her.

“M’right here, angel. Jus’ getting us some water,” he promised sweetly and hurried to sit beside her. The worry in her voice with just his name made his heart hurt. He handed her the cup so she could get rehydrated. Harry thought she was the most precious thing he’d ever laid eyes on, but he sensed her uneasiness. He knew she felt it the other day too after their sunrise fun—except he spent most of the day not seeing her. He would make up for it now. Scooping her into his lap, scrunching the fabric of her skirt up over her hips so she could straddle his lap, he didn’t focus on the fact there was nothing between her body and his shorts. Her head dropped to the crook of his neck, and he soothingly rubbed her back while he took his own sip of water over the top of her shoulder. “Y’okay, love?” He asked tentatively again now that she had time to process the event in her mind, had some water, and that Harry was holding her carefully.

“Mmm,” she hummed softly. Her breath tickling his neck. “Thank you.”

He chuckled and kissed her hair. “I’d say the pleasure was all mine, but I think y’got the brunt of it.”

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to make you feel that good,” she mumbled sadly. Almost as if she was hurt by the idea.

He smirked. “Won’t be difficult, kitten. Thought I was gonna come jus’ from touching you,” he promised. She didn’t pay attention to that bit of info. She was too busy feeling bad about how needy she was right now.

“M’sorry m’needy,” she whispered—it always happened when she orgasmed like that at the hand of another guy. There were only a select few that managed to do it, but only one that left her high and dry after. It made her feel terrible and it had been a long while since she let it happen like that. Worried that she would feel dirty and gross again. She couldn’t really help herself with Harry though and she worried that she would bother him being so needy. “This is not the kind of beach vacation you had in mind, I’m sure.”

“Kitten, it’s so much better, because of you,” he pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear. “I’ll stay all night,” he promised her.

The research on love at first sight was no longer a worry. She had all the proof she needed right here.

*

Harry doesn’t know how many times he orgasmed. True to his word, he kissed her and kindly fucked her on every possible surface in Sea View. Except the outdoor shower. But that was only because it was raining. She giggled as Harry closed his eyes, smirking at her little laugh. “Something funny, kitten?” He asked reaching out across the bed—where they ended their escapades for the day.

She shook her head. “Never thought I’d be part of the group that’s been fucked at Sea View.”

He rolled over top of her, the sheets keeping a barrier between them. “S’been the best vacation of m’life,” he promised. “Gonna leave a six-star review,” he promised.

She laughed loudly, making his heart thrum with adoration at how carefree it sounded. “I don’t do this for everyone that stays here, don’t make reviews I can’t cash in on.”

“Love, if I could afford it, I would rent this place the whole summer.”

She smiled so beautifully. Harry thought she really was an angel like her friend said. A sun-kissed one for sure. “You’ll stay the night, yeah?” He asked. “We’ll watch TV and order food, whatever you want,” he promised.

“I’d like that. But I’ll need to go get a change of clothes.”

“You won’t need them,” he shrugged.

She giggled again.

*

They spent the next few days in the normal routine they developed the week before. They went to the beach, they checked an item off Harry’s vacation bucket list, they ate dinner together, watched the sunset, got ice cream, and moaned into each other’s mouths as much as possible.

They also touched a lot more. Harry held her hand while they waited in line behind the group of people ahead of them at the mini golf course. His arms looped around her back while they waded in the water, holding her close to him. He kept a hold of her foot in his lap while they read their books in the evening before sunset.

When they slept at night, in the comfy bed at Sea View, he wrapped her close to his chest and curled around her, his arms caging around her. “What if I have to pee?” She giggled the first night.

“Then I guess you’ll have t’pee on me,” he shrugged through her laughter.

It was unspoken that they didn’t talk about his vacation ending very soon. The only time she left him alone was when she showered at Sun-Kissed Cabana. He cutely told her he missed her the moment she returned to his home away from home. “So full moon tonight?” He asked looking down at her face. Today they read with her head in his lap, her face turned toward his stomach at the moment rubbing her nose against his warm t-shirt. He combed his fingers through her hair focusing on his book.

She nodded, wrangling her phone from her pocket to in front of her face so she could look at the weather app on her phone. “Nine thirty,” she glanced at the weather, there should be no clouds or rain to ruin the evening.

“It’ll be cold, yeah?” He asked. She checked the temperature and nodded again in affirmation.

“Probably wear what we wore for the sunrise.”

“Oh, I love that outfit,” he said flirtatiously. She rolled her eyes and turned to lay flat back against her lap and stare up at him. He smiled while he finished the page he was reading. “What?” He hummed.

“You’re obsessed with sex.”

“Me?!” He cried throwing his book on the coffee table. “You’re the one moaning and pressing your bum up against me all night,” he reminded her and brought his face down to hers so he could kiss her repeatedly. She giggled as he pulled her upper body with him as he leaned back against the sofa. He pulled her close to him. He was obsessed with sex. But only with her it seemed. It was a billion to one chance he would me this angel this vacation. Another billion to one chance he would find her stunning and adore her immediately.  Of course, it was only another billion to one chance he would want to make her come so many times her legs would shake just walking three houses down when she needed something from her little cottage.

Ugh, he wanted to stay here forever.

“Love,” he said gently. She was busy tracing his eyebrows and running her fingertip over his eyelids while he was lost in thought about how obsessed with sex he was. “I leave in a few days,” he reminded her. She frowned almost instantly and nodded. Looked away from him, ducked her face so her lips pressed to his shoulder. He pressed a hand to the back of her head, rubbing his fingertips gently into the back of her skull.

“I know,” she mumbled against his skin.

They were quiet for a few moments. Harry was trying to figure out what to say. It certainly couldn’t be that he was in love with her. He would sound like an idiot. She was intelligent and beautiful. Just because he wanted to live between her legs didn’t mean he could go around saying he loved her after a week and a half. “I want t’be very clear, kitten. I really don’t want t’leave,” he kissed the side of her head. “S’been a very special vacation,” he promised. “S’because of you, y’know. I don’t want t’leave because you’re here,” he combed through her hair with his fingers and kissed the crown of her head once more.

She didn’t answer but Harry could feel a teardrop fall onto his shirt. He didn’t move from this position. Didn’t want to call attention to her sadness and make it worse. They would have these moments and they could figure out the rest when the time came.

*

They walked hand in hand, the pathway lit by the flashlights on their phones. They wore their sweatpants and long sleeve shirts and were barefoot as they walked the same beach path, they always walked to the lifeguard stand. Before they even got there, Harry was speechless. “Oh wow,” the moon was just over top the horizon and since he had only seen the sunrise once this vacation, he only had one way to compare to it. If it wasn’t for the dark sky, he’d have no clue it wasn’t the sun. It was breathtaking.

She smiled and turned her flashlight off to take a picture. Harry did the same, wrapping his arm around her as she did so he wouldn’t lose her for even a second in the dark. “Is anyone else here y’think?” He asked.

She shook her head, bumping against him. “Probably not; mostly kids around here with their families. They can’t stay up this late,” she giggled. She yawned. “Honestly, me neither. I was up so late last night,” she reminded him.

He rolled his eyes. “‘Harry, please, please, please let me come. Oh, it’s so good,’” he mocked. She jabbed her elbow into his stomach not hard enough to hurt but he kissed the side of her face. She ignored him, turned her flashlight back on, and pulled him toward the lifeguard stand. They sat in silence, watching the moon slowly rise into the sky. It looked enormous. Beautiful. He said it when he first got here, but he truly believed she was right that this was the most magnificent place on earth.

She was taking pictures and playing with the exposure and lighting in the settings as she tried to capture how beautiful it was. The moon was now almost at the point where it was illuminating the beach. If he listened carefully, he could hear the sound of vacationers calling attention to their partners to look at the sky from their porches and cabins and cottages.

Harry snapped a picture of her focused expression managing to get her profile superimposed on the moon in the background. She blushed, not that Harry could see it in the dark like this but still. She wanted to talk more about what all this meant. What they should or would do when he left. It was so hard, the second it crossed her mind, tears filled her vision and she had to swallow the rock lodged in her esophagus. How was she supposed to have an adult conversation with Harry about it when she couldn’t even get the words out?

Hearing him say how much this all meant to him was a good start. It made her anxiety lessen. Because this meant the world to her; it was rash, quick, and ridiculous to fall in love so easily. She felt like a Disney princess falling for the first guy she saw. While she wasn’t sure if Harry was in love with her—which would be a completely normal thing—she could rest assured that he at least cared about her in some capacity. “Y’okay, kitten?” He hummed into her ear, pressing his lips to her temple while she thought. “Can hear the gears turning from here,” he smiled against her skin.

She shook her head. “It’s crazy to me how fast the moon rises,” she said. Harry nodded in agreement.

“Let’s head back, s’getting cold and I want t’get y’out of these clothes,” he murmured into her neck.

Harry dropped from the stand first, climbing down so he could make sure she made it down without injury. Once on the sand, they paused, leaning against the frame to gaze at the moon more.

She was pretty certain it was her doing, but she would never admit that to Harry. But soon her hand was in his sweatpants, holding his dick in her hand massaging the length of it, pulling and tugging it to get harder and longer. “Kitten,” he groaned quietly.

It was extremely ridiculous for her to do something like this on a public beach. Even if it was late at night. The moment he groaned out her pet-name she felt her thighs press together. She swore she was soaked already, and they’d hardly even begun. “Something about sweatpants with you,” she mumbled as she pulled down her own to just to mid-thigh. Harry followed suit. “S’gonna have to be quick,” she whispered standing in front of him, reaching behind so his body would curve around her.

“Oh kitten, m’already ready t’burst jus’ at the thought of your pussy around me,” he promised and slipped himself inside her from behind. She moaned quietly as he began pumping into her, in and out. She loved the darkness, only the moon casting a low glow over them while it still rose higher in the sky. It provided a good cover in case anyone did happen to walk their way down here. She turned to the side, gripping the wood of the lifeguard stand as she bent forward more. The sound of the waves lapping at the shore disguised the sound of Harry’s skin smacking against hers.

“So good,” she whimpered. “Harry,” she cried. He gripped her hips pulling her back toward him as he pushed forward. It was a miracle she could have this many orgasms in only a matter of days. She had never tried before to have this many but was once more worried that she wouldn’t last one day without him, let alone a whole year before she would see him next summer. “Harry,” she whined again and grabbed his hand holding onto her hip.

“Yeah, love? Y’close already? Y’all excited and wet for me because we’re on the beach? Gotta be quiet for me, baby. When y’come. Don’t want anyone t’hear. All those noises y’make are for me, yeah?”

She was going to scream at the top of her lungs, and she didn’t care who heard her. “Your pussy is s’good. So wet. Feel y'gripping me,” he mumbled and grabbed he cheek of her bum with one of his hands. He pressed hard, certain he would leave little finger print bruises and he wished he could be gentler but this was so fucking hot he thought he was going to lose his mind.

“Harry,” she whined again. “Please,” she begged.

“Y’can come, angel. Come as much as y’want. Come all over m’cock, please. Make yourself come all over me, love,” he moaned snapping almost brutally into her.

She whimpered as she did, her legs shaking almost to the point where she would have collapsed if Harry wasn’t holding her up. He continued to drive his dick up into her as he pulled her back toward him, so she was pressed to his torso. With a few more pumps he felt himself about to burst and alerted her. “Gonna come so hard, cause of you,” he groaned. She dropped to her knees, wrapping her lips around the head of his cock just in time to catch all of him in her mouth. He shivered as her mouth worked over him and he pulled away and pulled her up as he did.

He kissed her forehead and wrapped his arm around her tightly. “M’legs are tired.”

He nodded. “I know baby,” he cooed, pulling her pants up. He pulled his own up, catching a glimpse of the moon. “Do y’still have your phone?” She nodded mutely. Harry smiled, kissed her lips gently and then cradled her in his arms as he carried her back to the cottage.

*

They were two days and several hours away from Harry leaving. Her chest thought it was going to break open from the force of hiding her emotions. She was finishing getting fixed up after their walk and separate showers. Even though Harry did invite her. “We have to go to the store, you maniac,” she giggled as he tried to convince her with kisses down her throat.

“The store will be there in an hour.”

“S’never just an hour with you,” she muttered under her breath.

“Was that a complaint?”

“No, not even a little.”

No, they left the shower off their new kinky little bucket list for Harry’s vacation. Something to look forward to for next year. She was just finishing her hair when she heard the screen door. “Kitten?” He called.

“Bathroom!”

He stood in the doorway watching her put the final touches in her hair. He was grinning like an idiot. Like he had a secret. “Can we talk?” He asked.

She whipped around so fast to look at him and ask why he would ever say such a thing that she knocked her bottle of hair stuff onto the floor. She was lucky the lid to the toilet was closed where she had placed her towel from her shower, or she would be adding hair product to their grocery list since it merely bounced off the top of it. Harry’s mouth popped open, but she could see his eyes dancing in amusement.

“I should have picked a better phrase,” he nodded firmly.

She looked at him in shock. “Ya think?”

He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. “There’s...” he shook his head. “Jus’ c’mere,” he pulled her to her main room and flopped the pair of them onto the sofa. He brought his hands to her face, brought her to his lips and kissed her forehead, her nose, and pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. “M’going t’say a lot right now,” he told her. “Can y’be patient?” he asked. She nodded, nervously. Hopefully he would just treat it like ripping a Band-Aid off. “Y’have nothing t’be nervous about, love,” he promised kissing her forehead again.

“You’re making me anxious,” she said seriously. He chuckled.

“Okay, okay. I’ll start,” he smiled shaking his head. “I have immensely enjoyed this vacation. But even if I was trapped in the worst city in the worst home and you were there, I think I would have enjoyed it,” he rubbed his thumb along her cheek. It was starting off okay at least. “M’really heartbroken I have t’go,” he told her. “I didn’t even shower I was on the phone looking for another rental for every week this summer,” She smiled at that, feeling her eyes water. He swept his thumb below her eye seeing the tears appear.  “But m’friend Mitch called me too. His wedding is in early October. I...I wasn’t given a plus one originally, but he said I could have one. I told him all about you. In fifteen minutes. Mitch and Sarah were insistent at that point,” he told her. “I know s’not much. But I’d be able t’see you. And...I know s’like three months away...but it’s something right? Would y’go with me?”

She would see him again. She nodded. It didn’t matter how ridiculous it was.

“And...we could video chat. Every day. Hell, love, I’ll apply to a new school, I jus’ want t’have you in m’life in some permanent way. I’ll spend every school holiday with you. We’ll spend all summer here, every year. I know—” She started full on sniveling, and she covered her mouth as he spoke. “You think m’nuts,” he frowned.

She nodded. “I do, but only because I am too,” she promised tearily. “I want all of that,” she agreed. Harry sighed with relief, bringing his thumbs across her cheeks once more to rid them of tears and kissing her deeply. It wasn’t quite like the kisses that led to him pulling all her clothes off, but it had almost as much passion.

“I promise, I don’t usually fall in love this quickly,” he admitted. Her lips parted at the L-word in surprise and Harry slapped a hand against his face. “Fuck...I mean...” he sighed shaking his head. “I think s’obvious given that I jus’ invited you t’a wedding after knowing y’for a handful of days,” he shook his head quickly like he was trying to rewire some of his neurons in hope of making sense again. “Sorry,” he tucked his face into his neck terrified he just ruined everything by telling a girl he knew for only ten days he loved her.

She giggled through her tears. “I... forgot I’ve had an orgasm...let alone had sex...literally ever...when I was dry humping your leg at the beach. I don’t think...this is very different than any...I don’t do this sort of thing,” she nodded in agreement. “I like you a lot,” she whispered at least she had enough sense to not say love—even if Harry thought she kind of wanted to say it back—and she did want to say it. “An embarrassing amount. I’m dreading having to say goodbye. Dreading the end of your vacation and at any moment I’m worried I’m going to invite you to stay with me, nearly a stranger, for the rest of the summer just so I don’t have to let you go,” she then pressed her fingers to her lips and closed her eyes. “Shit,” she muttered against them.

Harry chuckled, bit the inside of his lip glad she was speaking from her heart the same way Harry did. “Honestly, love? I would stay, if y’wanted me to.”

She flicked her eyes up to him. Adoring the green irises that were haunting every thought. “Yeah?” She whispered.

He nodded. “I...I think this might be the best vacation I’ve ever been on. Too bad y’don’t have an outdoor shower. S’where I’ve been imagining some really fun things ‘bout you.”

“Why imagine when you could have them? We still have two days.”

He moaned. “M’gonna fuck you with a Sea View,” he said pulling her to stand and all but racing back to his perfect little cottage home. Enjoying her giggles as he stripped her naked in the backyard along with him. Harry was eternally grateful to whatever powers that be he got this vacation spot with the beautiful goddess from Sun-Kissed Cabana all to himself.

And an outdoor shower.

--

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@pancakerry

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[chipthekeeper]

After many months of sporadically yelling my thoughts in various posts.........it is time.

*turns out there's like, so much competition for being the worst dad in this galaxy **a biased account from someone with their own very mid dad

Read on for an unnecessarily lengthy argument and just make sure to picture me like this the whole time

The Evidence:

Similarities/parallels between them

Shapeshifting -- They both transform so fully and easily from rebel mode to fancy rich asshole and back again throughout the show. Others do as well, but not nearly as often as they do and not nearly as sharp contrast from one thing to another

Quick tempers -- Evident from the way they snap at each other and the people they work with

Familiar framing -- There’s nothing accidental in this show. I believe the below photos draw a very deliberate, if subtle, parallel between them. We don’t see any of the other rebels using a stick like that, and Luthen's doesn't seem to actually have a function besides making youtubers believe he's a Jedi (I have a whole spin-off conspiracy theory on that we can get into some other day if you ask me)

Blonde -- Obviously. Though it seems Vel's hair is changing for season two. Perhaps a hint that she is trying to distance herself from her father's influence? (okay this part is mostly a joke but then I talked myself into something)

Also, this brand new page from the Dawn of Rebellion visual guide book that made me go !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! because, you know, proximity is everything. It would have made much more sense for Kleya to be on this page and Vel to be beside Cinta on the next page, right? Nope, not if there's a deeper connection here!

Their first interaction

Even before we meet Vel, Luthen predicts to Cassian exactly how she will react to them being there

He first tries to greet her with a big fake grin. Big time dad behavior to act like none of the past shit between you has ever gone down. But Vel remembers, doesn’t buy the act

Basically their interaction is just very familiar and informal, then breaks down quickly because of their attitudes toward each other

Vel is being very childish for most of it, pacing around, not keeping eye contact, then fully acting like a kid who doesn’t want to pick up their toys (see above picture)

Which then brings the Big Dad Energy from Luthen - "LOOK AT ME!!" he yells. The dadest dad behavior to ever dad. I can so easily picture this from my dad. "Look at me when I'm talking to you! Do what I say!" You have no choice but to shut up and obey unless you want to lose your allowance heist mission

Maybe he does actually care?

The night before the heist, Luthen is acting very strange, so much so that Kleya calls him out for being nervous. This is understandable given the stakes. BUT!

“They’re either going to be okay out there or they’re not” from Kleya is interesting. Be okay, rather than do okay. Like she knows he’s particularly worried about their safety, about one person’s safety especially?

And Vel’s mentioned in the very next line, reminding us of their connection again: "Vel's the only one who traces back" -- could be because she’s the only one who’s seen him, but who would actually be able to “trace” that??

Vel's need for approval

Veeerrryyyyy familiar to every eldest daughter constantly ignored by dad, seen most prominently in her interactions with Kleya

First right after the heist -- "Where is he?" ... "He read your message." "I really thought he'd be here?" Oh? Why's that? Why would he be there unless it was personal? Unless there was some sort of expectation of praise for the job well done, or comfort after losing so much of the team?

Later, before Ferrix, Vel won't give Kleya the information about Maarva's death until she secures the "I'll make sure he knows where it came from" promise from her

Rebellion is a family affair

"But Chip, Vel can't be related to Mon and Luthen!" Why not? There's nothing really that says Luthen isn't/can't be Mon's uncle

In fact, it might even make it easier to understand how a prominent Senator who's outwardly so centrist and careful could get Luthen's attention -- they always knew each other!

Anyway, a visual aid made months ago by @jedi-valjean, outlining the possible family tree, along with what seems to be the typical Chandrilan matriarchal naming conventions:

Vel Sartha, nepo baby

Vel absolutely does not have the experience or the stomach to be leading a mission like Aldhani. Why did he let her? That's right, nepotism

Hints to this in both her interactions with Kleya -- first "this is what revolution looks like" and then "You're off the rails. You're lucky he's not here"

She's clearly not ready and messing things up, but she's not facing any consequences for it because of her proximity to Luthen

Their second interaction

The convo on Ferrix is less loaded but still interesting

Vel looking at him and greeting him with a hint of "oh so you do acknowledge that I exist....but only because I have the information you need"

Again, the way they talk to each other is oddly informal for a boss and subordinate. Plus at the end he gives her tasks like a dad handing out chores

(also seems to like saying Cinta's name to her. supportive of his daughter's girlfriend, that gets him some good dad points)

Luthen's talk with Lonni

pound for pound, this is the most important part outside of their first interaction

As Lonni comes down in the elevator, Luthen congratulates him on becoming a father to a "healthy, beautiful" daughter. Tells him he must be pleased

Lonni thinks he's being threatened, asks "Do you ever think how it might feel from my side?" And Luthen tells him "I think about you constantly."

This. Shit. Makes. Me. CRAZY.

Because Luthen *was* Lonni. Just a guy with a daughter, trying to fight for something better

Also he sacrifices Kreegyr and all his men just to keep Lonni’s cover from being blown. Obviously that’s selfish on one hand, he gets to keep his spy, but also….Lonni’s daughter gets to keep her dad. I don’t think Luthen's just saying that to appease him. “You love your daughter," he says. The whole thing hits home for him and he thinks about it constantly

Basically the whole scene is a conversation between Luthen as he is now and Luthen as he could have been -- “Your investment in the rebellion is epic. A double life. Every day a performance.” He’s TALKING TO HIMSELF

And what does Luthen sacrifice? "...Kinship....Love" -- the love of his family? His kin? He may have his daughter in his life but they're hardly more than coworkers because of what they have to do. They're both sacrificing a real relationship with each other

"I burn my decency for someone else's future" -- he's sacrificed being a good father to fight and make a better future for his daughter!!!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The shoutout to his ego not having a "mirror" calls us back to Vel and Cinta's conversation, another probably deliberate thread supposed to connect them in our minds

"You'll stay with me, Lonni" can mean both that he's not letting Lonni out of this and, again, that he's always thinking of him (always thinking of that other version of his life)

The Conclusions

Putting together all the evidence and the fact that no one in the show seems to know about the connection between them, I can basically come to two possible conclusions:

Vel didn't find out this man was her father until she was already an adult

She knew him as a child but then he began making his calculations and left her and her mother

Either way, they would have gone years without interacting and thus it would be easy to hide their true connection once they've been reunited. And either way, their relationship would be as strained as it appears. Vel would want to have his attention and approval in a way she never did before, and Luthen would feel guilty enough to give her a job she hasn't really earned.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

[blackbat09]

i'm normal about @shepscapades' dbhc au. and uh. wrote a thing that's very much not canon but equally as much a love letter to everything shep's done. it's xbralis because of course it is.

“Shiswammy, I don’t think - Hm. Is this really necessary?”

[Voice Identified: Hermit Keralis1]

“I mean - maybe not. But, if I’m honest, it’d make me feel a bit better if you did use it?”

[Voice Identified: Administrator xisumavoid]

“It’s just - what does it even do, Shishwam? All this - this redstone and wires and bluey goopy stuff. You keep giving everybody robots this season - like, what am I even gonna use it for?”

“Well, we can just - here. It’s online. Can you hear us, XB?”

[Question: Audio Processor Functionality.]

“Yes.”

“Wonderful! Will you please give Keralis your initialization text?”

“Hi! I’m an XB2000 android. I can carry out basic tasks such as resource gathering and crafting, but my functional specialties are combat and exploration. I’m designed for high-stress environments, like deep oceans and naturally generated structures, and am enchanted with Aqua Affinity and Depth Strider, though I may be upgraded at your discretion.”

“At my discretion? Really, now.”

XB figures now’s as good a time as any to look at the Hermit he’s being given to. He’s been programmed with a knowledge of all this season’s Hermits, as well as the other androids Xisuma has brought to this world, so there aren’t really any surprises in store - but it is the first time he’s actually laid optical units on the man, in the flesh, and he quickly updates the player data from the previous season with the new input he receives as he looks Keralis over.

The Hermit’s wide eyes meet XB’s gaze, and his mouth twists in a smile, leaning his body a few degrees in XB’s direction.

The motion is not a threat - XB’s Hermit cannot register as hostile - so it goes mostly ignored.

“And what are you looking at, prrrincess?”

XB stares at his Hermit for a moment, watching the man’s smile falter and his eyebrows draw together, before Xisuma speaks.

“Oh! He means you, XB - Keralis likes his nicknames, he does.”

And while XB is aware of this already, has a certifiable database of aliases Keralis has given other Hermits, being given a new designation already is -

Well. It makes sense, actually. Keralis has just acquired a nameless android, and model numbers are unwieldy at best for casual address.

[Question: Visual Stimuli.]

“I’m looking at you, Keralis. Your appearance has changed since your documentation was last updated in season seven. My personal files will now match your current physical appearance.”

The furrow in Keralis’ brow smooths, and his smile returns, leaning in closer before he murmurs, “Anytime you want a closer look, princess? All you gotta do is ask.”

“Keralis!” Xisuma’s tone is scolding, but he also seems to be laughing, and Keralis snickers as he pulls away from XB, winking at him as if they’ve shared some sort of secret. He doesn't think they have.

“I’m being good! I’m being good, Shishwam, I promise.”

—

“Has anyone ever told you you’re beautiful, XB?”

His motions don’t pause or falter as the question registers, the light at his temple flickering as he cycles through his memories - it’s a short search, one XB doesn’t really need to perform, but it’s good to be thorough, for Keralis’ benefit.

“No.”

The man gasps, the sound of a second pick falling silent as Keralis stops in his mining. XB continues - the andesite Keralis requires won’t mine itself, and the vein XB is working away at is still projected to be decently large.

“No?” Keralis repeats, voice raising as he continues, “No? XB! How could this be?”

There’s - emotion, in his tone, that XB decides is best categorized as aghast. In talking to DocM and Xisuma during routine maintenance, he’s been assured that Keralis can be prone to dramatics - that his words and feelings are sometimes not as grand as he projects them to be. But XB doesn’t mind it, really - Keralis being demonstrative with his feelings, even if it pushes the line into exaggeration, makes them easier to react to in a way that pleases his Hermit.

“I mean, before you, I spent all my time with Xisuma and DocM. They must not have felt it was pertinent to tell me,” XB suggests, and Keralis huffs, his pick resuming its rhythm - XB’s answer is satisfactory, then.

“Well I think it’s necessary,” he declares, pauses between his words dragging on a bit longer to catch his breath between speech and exertion. It’s something XB has grown accustomed to; sometimes he’ll need to stop and compose himself even when he’s not working, simply growing too animated and tripping over rapidly-spilling syllables until he’s half-wheezing. “I can’t just - just send you off in the world, not knowing you have beautiful eyes! They’re like the sea, XB. You could drown a man in them.”

Along with his exaggeration, Keralis likes his figures of speech, his simile and metaphors. Technically, XB can sort of grasp what he’s saying - Xisuma has been rather accommodating when it comes to updating his verbal and linguistic processing, trying to make sure he understands what Keralis means beyond the base definitions of the words he says (in whichever language he decides to use that day - his Hermit was rather delighted to discover XB’s fluency in both Polish and Swedish) - but, sometimes, even with everything XB has access to, he still can’t quite parse the why of what Keralis says.

[Eyes: like the sea: blue? Wet? Could drown in them: deep? Dangerous? Negative?]

XB is quiet for a moment longer, watching the steady swing of his own pickax before he offers, “If my appearance is unsatisfactory, you can ask me to change it.”

“XB!” He sounds horrified, and this time the sound of his pick is replaced with the heavy stomp of his boots as he bullies his way into XB’s space, taking his face between work-roughened hands. XB’s arms lower gently to avoid hitting Keralis with his pick, obediently meeting his eyes as the Hermit usually wants, when he holds XB like this. “I would never!”

“But you can,” XB points out. Keralis’ face only folds more, stern frown seeming - almost out of place.

His Hermit usually smiles.

[Software instability.]

“But I won’t, XB. And that’s that. No buts.” He stares back at Keralis for a long moment, committing the serious face to his memory.

XB would rather not have many examples of the expression. Among his top priorities are his Hermit's health and safety, after all, and his happiness is a decent indicator of both.

“Yes, Keralis."

[docholligay]

Dr. Holligay Tries Things That Aren't Running: Zumba

It's January second! The air is cold, the frost decorates the windows, and the gym is heaving with bodies, people assured that this is the year for them. It is my month of the year that recalibrates me into remembering how to streamline my daughter's morning so we get out of the house in time to get a slot at childwatch.

So, Jewlet annoyed that I rushed along the intricate ritual of "sitting and reading 80 books at least halfway" we go into the YMCA, and get a spot in childwatch, and all is well. I dress out into my running gear. I walk by the front desk. There is a--oh hello, what's this?

Every year, my YMCA holds a fitness bingo. This is mostly for the benefit of newbies, in that it encourages a sampler of all kinds of classes to see what you'll take to. I do not do the fitness bingo. I do not explore. I run. I put my headphones on and jog on a track, and I think about absolutely nothing. Or everything. Perspective. Once a week I physically toss myself into a strength class so that I have some semblance of bone density when I get older. I love my fitness routine. But. On the countertop, my Achilles heel.

An expensive and indefensibly unitasking kitchen item. I would never buy this. Ever. I would not consider spending three hundred dollars on this. But it is free. For the low price of luck and being willing to diversify my portfolio. I take a bingo card and consider my options.

The good thing, about being a generally social and cheerful person with a recognizable fluff of red hair, is that people notice me, they remember me, they think of me. This is also the bad thing, because as I'm looking this over and absent-mindedly walking toward the track, a gal we'll call Martha, who was actually my neighbor as a child, calls out to me.

"Oh, Doc! Are you gonna come to class with us?"

Something like six women including the instructor are staring at me, smiling, and I realize I have no good defense. I want that stupid kitchen item. I'm sitting here thinking about how to take classes every day and obtain kitchen item. It may as well be this.

"What IS this?" I ask.

Friends, it is Zumba. Zumba, for the uninitiated, is a latin-based jazzercise type situation, with full choreo and salsa steps. There will be many older woman in this class, should you walk in, but do not let that fool you. They will absolutely make you look a fool. "Idiot can't even do a grapevine into three toe taps into a spin!" Says Gladys.

But I don't have a defense! It's on the bingo card, it's even in the row where Boot Camp is, which I do attend every week anyhow, and I'm standing there. NO TIME LIKE THE PRESENT. I know this is a bad idea, I know it is, and yet I walk in.

As it turns out, I'm more than willing to tolerate mild humiliation for the promise of an unnecessary and expensive kitchen item.

Let me tell you what, I am giving it my all. I am dancing with the stars, and by 'with the stars' I mean, 'Gladys and her compatriots are wiping the floor with me.' But I am me in all things, and I am giving it my all. I'm giving baby deer gambols across a field ten minutes after being born, I'm giving drunk Midwestern drag queen, I'm giving enthusiastic and untalented Mexican toddler at the annual Fiesta Mexicana. I am jumping and doing the full jumping jack every time I can, because my functional knees are my only stranglehold over Gladys.

I don't like to pay attention ever when I work out, and this was nothing but attention. I got to the end of a 50 minute silver shoe latin dance party and I felt like I had just done my taxes by hand. The instructor has the audacity to come up to me, who tripped over her own water bottle while trying to serve up a hip thrust, and tell me I did a great job for my first time.

I thrust forward my bingo card for her to mark with their special stickers.

I will keep you posted as to the rest of the month. I will have that stupid as shit appliance.

[iamthecomet]

Comet I've been Thinking™️ I've seen a lot of ships in the Ghost fandom. But one I personally haven't seen (by itself) is Aether x Aurora: Aethoura (can you tell I'm not good at ship names yet?). Now granted I'm rusty in this realm, but I've really been thinking about them (and I'd like to apologize in advance for any poor character portrayals-) so have some of those thoughts starting from when Aurora was first summoned. ~~~ When Aurora and Phantom were summoned, it was obvious that all the ghouls would be there to help them and welcome them. Each existing ghoul mindlessly went to one or the other and that's where we begin. Aether went to Aurora first and mostly stuck by her side. He felt drawn to her for some reason, more than Phantom (and no, it wasn't because Phantom was taking his place now) Aether played the biggest role in helping her get acclimated: showing her daily functions, how things worked, how to use things around the ministry/den, and even some smaller things like how to tell the time

After a while of Aurora getting around and used to things she often went to Aether to just spend time with him, help him with things, or whatever they could find. Aether always made it fun and she always found herself learning new things every time she was around him- There was never a dull moment

When it was time to tour Aurora was scared out of her wits. She was sad that Aether had to stay behind, too. Aether promised to keep in contact every day as much as he could. The first night she couldn't sleep and texted Aether all night, soft giggles and coos leaving her upon occasion at things he'd say

The day of her first concert she video called Aether in tears moments before having to get on stage. Despite the rest of the pack's attempts to try and soothe and calm her it didn't work. She wanted, and needed, Aether. Aether picked up the video call and helped her calm down, walking her through some breathing and grounding techniques and trying to make her laugh. Eventually she was calm enough and had to leave for the concert. She didn't leave without saying "thank you" and "I love you" for the first time. Aether thought about it for the rest of the day

Later on the entire pack called Aether and Sunshine to tell them how the concert went and how awesome Aurora and Phantom were. Aurora couldn't hide her blush and tail wiggling as she was praised by her fellow pack mates, especially when Aether praised her. She'd never felt so happy when Aether told her he was proud of her. After a long tour and back home, Aurora and Aether wasted no time reuniting and catching up on everything. For the next few weeks, they were inseparable

Aether and Aurora had grown more affectionate with each other over time- nibbling/biting, nuzzling, head butting, holding hands, cuddling, you name it. Aether always went out of his way to be touching some part of Aurora lovingly. Aurora loved and adored it and always returned the act of love and affection They both love to get each other gifts too, and there was definitely thought behind them always. Surprise dates, outings, or even quality time was right up their alley. They are very much in love, and they'd never want it a different way

AHHHH AETHRORA, aethra? Aurther? (ARTHER?). You're right, we don't see them much, or at all, and it's really a shame. They would be so sweet together. He'd take such great care of her, calling her whenever he can just to make sure she's doing alright. Helping her calm down when she gets nervous, her talking to him late in the night when he gets lonely. We need more of them together, being soft and easy and sweet. Taking care of each other. Laughing at stupid shit. Just YES PLEASE. Thank you so much for this it warmed my (freezing) cold heart on this stupid dreary day. ♥♥♥

[acacia-may]

*sheepishly pokes my head in*

If oc x cc ships are okay, then can I ask for Lyra's ships of Yuno x Neva and William x Zera, and mine Fuegoleon x Solara 🥺👉👈

Hi Laura! No need to be sheepish. 💖 Thank you so much for the ask and for indulging my ramblings. I think it's incredibly sweet that you've asked about @lyranova's pairings. They're lovely! I'm honestly a little feral about Zerilliam, and I rambled about that and about the pairings in general in this response to Lyra's ask. ^^

I would be thrilled to share my Fuelara thoughts with you here, especially since, at this point, I am so invested in this pairing that I have to constantly, consciously remind myself that Solara is not a canon character. She just exists in the world of Black Clover in my mind now, and whenever I imagine or think of Fue, she is right there by his side.

I have to be honest that before I found your blog and we became friends, I really didn't think that much about Fuegoleon. I always liked him and had a lot of respect for him, but he wasn't really a character I just sat around and thought about too much. (His brotherly relationship with Leopold is just too functional. Let's blame that lol😂 I promise I'm only joking, and I adore them! Vermillion Bros for the win!!) But you write him with such depth and such nuance that it really gave me a new appreciation for his character. That one shot you wrote about his feelings of inadequacy after his injury has stuck with me to this day and remains one of my favorite fics I've ever read about anything in any fandom. You and your incredibly powerful writing made me love Fue, and as I was coming to really love him and becoming so much more invested in his character and his story, I found your absolutely incredible Solara who is truly (and this is probably intentional on your part but needs to be said) perfect for him.

Fuelara is everything a canon character x oc relationship should be in my opinion. I hope it goes without saying that Solara is such an incredibly strong and compelling character in her own right and I love that you've given her her own story beyond just being Fue's love interest, but even beyond that, she fits so seamlessly into the world of Black Clover (and I know you shared with me in the past that that was something that was really important to you while creating her, and I think you have succeeded in that in every possible way). Like I said in the beginning of this post, I really do genuinely have to remind myself she isn't canon. She just feels like she belongs there. I can't tell you how much the way you've meticulously crafted Fuelara and weaved them into the world of BC has been a personal inspiration for me. (Apologies in advance for the tangent but) my big passion project right now is a very ambitious multi-chapter fic for another fandom which I'm co-creating with a friend of mine, and it involves an OC x CC relationship (that I'm mostly in charge of 😅) so I actually find myself thinking about and talking about Fuelara as kind of this blueprint and inspiration for everything I can only hope my own ship will ultimately be. Even though the world of that story (late 90s/early 2000s suburban America) and the world of Black Clover couldn't possibly be more different, I'm sure Sprinkles could tell you that I have specifically mentioned Fuelara (specifically their relationship's seamless integration into the existing world and story) and what an inspiration it is for me personally, so many times while working on this project. It is truly so impressive, and I want to write like that. (Side note, I have definitely been using your tips and suggestions for OC integration throughout this process, so thank you again for that!)

Beyond just how well Solara perfectly fits into the world (which I've rambled about a lot), she also perfectly fits with Fuegoleon to the point that it's actually difficult for me to imagine him with anyone else at this point. I'm honestly really surprised I have made it through these ramblings without any random, unsolicited music references, but you're about to get one. There's a song called "We Go Well Together" by Goldheart (Spotify; YouTube) and here's a few lines, "We're just like kids up on a swing/Finger and a wedding ring/We go perfectly/It's so easy." That's just Fuelara to me: It's so easy. That's not to say that it's easy for them--they've certainly had their struggles and been through so much together, but their relationship dynamic, their love for each other, and their interactions are just so effortless. Of course Embers is fantastic, but I think I love your cozy little one shots about them most of all because I just adore how they interact with each other. They're so comfortable with each other, and it feels so real and so genuine. There's really no need for me to suspend belief or to try to create some buy in into their relationship. They just talk to each other and I'm immediately convinced they're deeply in love and just perfect for each other. One of my favorite things about them is how they are both such strong people, but they can be vulnerable together, and I love these really tender moments where they encourage each other that they don't have to carry the weight of the world alone. I just can't get over how supportive they are of each other, and I just adore that.

Gah, this ship is just so good. It's canon. It's honestly better than canon in a lot of cases, and I really can't get enough of it. I think I've said this before, but I'll say this again. Thank you for this pairing! I love it. ❤️‍🔥

[cipheramnesia]

Skinamarink is a lovely indie horror movie, which is just a bit ruined by the number of people calling it unique, genius, and the scariest movie they've ever seen.

It's an interesting and abstract painting style of movie which begs the viewers to ask questions about the purposeful grain and distortion surrounding the long and static shots. It also deliberately avoids focusing on any of its characters, in exchange for dwelling on the textures and shapes and geometry of a house in the dark. It's very much apiece with most first time and lower budget horror, relying on the human need to impart meaning and patterns into everything we see. It's effective at communicating a sense of some intention by the author, but largely leaves any touchstones of meaning absent or obtuse. There are points where it almost approaches House of Leaves in the way it immerses you into the house layout, though it doesn't quite pay all the immersion off in interesting ways, opting to manipulate the viewer experience in means which mostly don't rely on the house itself to be a functional living element, and rather fall back on it being a mere container of the story. I wasn't seeking it out at the time, but as I write this, in retrospect, it feels like a missed opportunity considering how far out of the way the first third of the movie goes to familiarize the viewer with the house.

If you haven't spent a lot of time in the horror genre, or haven't watched a lot of low budget horror, but you are a fan of what we might call the internet of horror (an amalgamation of Marble Hornets, SCP, and the Backrooms I'd say), chances are good that Skinamarink is going to work very well for you as a scary movie. Also, because it is fairly structured despite obscuring the exact plot intended by the author, it works as an excellent canvas to explore your relationship to horror and childhood.

That said, I would personally suggest trying to look at it beyond the somewhat basic idea of "this is a dream / coma experience" or "they are dead and in hell." So far the idea I've best preferred (seen in another review) is that the movie is the childhood experience of divorce as seen through a malicious haunting. The slow and inexorable isolation, lack of parenting, and gradually erasure of memory tracks very well with the consequences of divorce. While I never experienced death, I've definitely experienced nearly dying in a coma and being a child of divorce, and if I'm imposing my own experience, the latter more than the former applies. It also tracks well with the unusual manner of the children, who remain huddled around the television talking in whispers throughout. If you've ever been a child, you're probably aware that being left alone usually results in some degree of mass chaos at some point. However, if you're trying to keep the sole parent from waking up while you stay up late / get up early, the secretive whispers are probably familiar. So, there's some meat here to get into, and altogether it makes for a good sturdy work of film.

For me personally, I'm not in horror for scares, so I can recognize the effective dread and tension of Skinamarink, and even enjoy it, without necessarily falling prey to the exaggerated promises of the most terrifying experience of my life or something unlike anything I've ever seen.

If I was more invested, I could potentially do some digging for specific examples, but I'm just going to leave it that I've experienced plenty of horror which raises intense dread without a specific moment or idea that breaks it into a scare, and horror that deliberately avoids focusing on the elements that are most disturbing. It's a nicely competent example of the genre, but it is unique only in how much online excitement it has generated, if we pretend a similar movie, Blair Witch, didn't exist. They pair well, complimentary opposite examples of the same general style of filmmaking, with a creative approach to a microscopic budget.

Should you see it? Sure, it's nice I think. It's not a work of genius, not something transformative to the genre, not something you've never seen in your life, not something marvelous or transcendent or beyond description. It's what it looks like, a pretty good indie horror from a promising director.

[twisting-roads]

SO my iterator oc group.

The oldest iterator in the group is Rays From Annihilation (named for the product of the matter annihilation caused by void fluid). They act as a kinda unofficial group leader, regularly giving advice and directions to newer iterators in testing and personal situations. However they're also the second to collapse due to age and neglecting themselves and instead helping others more. Their collapse causes disunity and more infighting in the group which is not great.

The second iterator to be built was Asteroid Orbital Resonance. Early into her life, she had some disagreements with RFA, which led to her generally not becoming very connected with the group, instead keeping to herself and generally disliking the rest of the group who were more connected to RFA. After the Mass Ascension and SOS events of the main story, she would go on to. fucking kill another iterator. for a lot of Bad reasons, but in part to attempt to test theories about iterator death/ascension (she does this by sending a slugcat to plant bombs in a cave system beneath the iterator, causing a collapse worse than even moon's so the iterator is like Dead Dead.) her reasons were bad she was not justified. women's wrongs.

Third iterator built was Unintended Interference (yes I know the name is the same acronym as a base game iterator but I'm not changing it). UI spends most of her time hacking into broadcasts to see everyone's drama. not even maliciously she's just bored and curious (mostly after mass ascension, before she did much less on account of. not supposed to.) if there was an actual story for these guys it'd be from her perspective and she is the one who eventually figures out what AOR did, and retaliates by collapsing AOR with bombscugs. AOR does survive the collapse in a state similar to base game Moon, and eventually becomes a less awful person after she starts using her limited abilities to help out a local slugcat colony made up of the descendants of test subjects of hers.

rest of these guys are not in any particular order because it doesn't matter as much but there's:

divorce yaoi (two iterators who do nothing but beef about everything. one time one of them sent the other the instructions for violating the self termination taboo. these guys don't have as much lore but they're funny. their names are Eightfold Experimentation and Hills Among Mountains which creates the acronym HAM and that was an accident.)

codependant Yuri (A Thousand Tangled Wires and Unending Blizzard. ATTW partially collapsed first of the group due to resource mismanagement and general disorder immediately following the Mass Ascension. ATTW retained limited functionality, and only enough comms capabilities to talk to one other iterator, UB. UB and ATTW grew close through many conversations and UB pitied ATTW and dedicated herself to trying to help UB. After a Really Long Time spent working on it, UB would ultimately recover ATTW's puppet as well as many of her memories, bringing them into her own structure. UB then integrated ATTW into her own chamber, so there were two puppets in there and ATTW's memory was added and so it was like two iterators running on a single system. as time passed the distinction between vanished as they basically became a single, unified being before UB's ultimate collapse. shout-out to girls who merge their souls together. I don't care if this doesn't make sense or work with rain world lore I'm just here to make thematically relevant yuri.)

then there's Countless Gleaming Stars. they got blown up by AOR so they don't do much. they were the youngest iterator in the group. sad!

i have a few other iterator names some with loose concepts but none developed much. one such is Abounding Shimmering Snow and I promise it's a complete accident that I got the acronym ASS. that said Forest Above Graves is a name very intentionally chosen for the acronym it creates,

anyways thank you for letting me talk about my guys if you have thoughts or questions feel free to ask if you have any critiques on like. idk anything I think you know more about this game than I do. okay bye

sorry help I was going to read this and forgot I had this in my askbox I promise I did not ghost you. I don't have any questions or thoughts sometimes i just want to listen.this is very cool

[pandoraimperatrix]

Wandering Worlds Meta (Part III) - The Evanescent Tamaranean Empire 

Reminder that everything I'll write here only applies to My Fanfiction. Please for the love of GOD do not use this as some claim I'm making over the DC or the HBO Max's show canon.

Tamaran is a Monarchy of coalition, it means the Monarch's power is not absolute, as most monarchies go... But unlike, idk, the monarchies of Europe, because Tamaraneans are deeply emotional straight forward people, and because they have a Living Goddess; there is no pretence that the Monarch’s status comes from God.  

X'hal is alive, and well, living her best life and the Tamaraneans believe that when they die their life-energy will return to her. And by coalition, I mean there are various small kingdoms under the Great Monarch (Kory’s family, at the moment) they are closer to a democracy than an absolutist monarchy. 

For the last three generations the And'r House has been the Great Family House, the family that has been ruling over the small local Kingdoms, but it doesn't mean there has been many internal and external disputes.  

Tamaran is under constant attack from the Citatel and their Gordanian Mercenaries, they attack to capture prisoners for slave trade; and the Psions, enemies of the Citatel, a race of Scientists that like to capture other species to experiment on them until they die. 

In Wandering Worlds, unlike the New Teen Titans Comic Book, Kory's parents never exchanged her for peace with the Citatel, therefore, she was never sold to slavery. She was never experimented by Psions either, her powers are her own, there was never stealing of Kom’s powers. 

Kory's mission to kill the Raven and save the world from season one, was the mission that would make her ascend from Crown Princess to Queen, after that, she would marry and take over while her parents would step down. 

She was promised to the House of Arras, but not to Prince Karras, but his older brother Yarras. And Karras was supposed to marry Komand’r. Yarras died as a child of the same illness that handicapped Komand'r, Ga’ula.  

What is this sickness? It's a viral infection result of Psion experimentation that became pandemic, it’s the reason why Okaara perished and they had to move to Tamaran.  

Tamaraneans have the great ability of absorbing solar radiation and store it. This radiation is how a Tamarean feeds. They don’t need to eat everyday, nor to breath oxygen everyday, but they cannot go without sunlight for longer than three days. 

The radiation from the sun is metabolize and used to create starbolts, repair their own bodies super fast, to fly AND to absorb and share language through touch. 

Ga’ula damages the photoreceptors of the tamaranean skin, without being able to absorb sunlight the person dies of inanition.  

Depending of how much damage the virus does to the body, you can have someone with handicaps like Komand’r who has many issues in the high functions (her deficiency concerns the mostly the ability of absorbing and communicating using language) but has never been in danger of dying. Karras older brother was so ill, that he couldn’t even feed from the sun to keep his body functioning. When Yarras died, Kory became Karras promised. One of many reasons why Komand’r always felt like she only Kory’s hand-me-downs, and it didn’t help when after Karras became Kory’s fiancé, nobody cared to set a new match for Kom. 

When Kory failed to return to Tamaran, the Citatel used the fragility caused by the internal politics to finally invade Tamaran, they had been making small attacks for eons, but this was a frontal attack how they had never dared before. Whole cities were raided, and millions of tamaraneans were kidnapped and sold to slavery. 

With their heiress still lost, Myand’r and Luand’r tried to negotiate peace, the Citatel offered ten years of truce if they were handed Komand’r as a prize. The nobles and smaller kings and queens who had already lost their own children, pressed the House of And’r to take the deal since Kom was already damaged. When Kom found out, she murdered her own parents and tried to take over the planet, breaking the attempt of peace and drowning the Tamaran in civil wars. When things got really bad she went after Kory and season 3 and the plot of Wandering Worlds happened. 

 Next on part IV: Tamaranean noble houses, foods, military, words and traditions. 

[licorice-and-rum]

please write your rant about male domestic abuse victims

Okay, I'll do this but fair warning, I might include some kind of parallels to the Depp vs Heard trial(s) because my mind functions better if I have some kind of real-life or fictional literature to support me through the development of my thoughts, so if you believe Amber Heard for some reason, you might not like what I have to say. Also, please if you're gonna comment, be gentle and polite, I'm always open to new (well-based) points of view and I promise I'm open to an honest conversation with anyone who is kind <3

Observation: I will use Domestic Violence (DV) as a broad term throughout this but know that I refer mostly to Intimate Partner Violence (IPV) here. The difference between the two is that DV can happen between members of the same nuclear family (between brothers, partners, or child and parents) while IPV happens only between romantic partners.

The reason I don't use DV especially is because abuse against boys (by parents, sisters, etc.) also falls under this category and then it's a whole other discussion about the socialization of children and teenagers, the social minority they represent and how that's a whole new discussion (that I'd be happy to extend in another post actually if there are any other people interested).

To begin with, we have to understand some things: we don't have exact data about male victims of domestic abuse, not only because it's severely under-reported but also because many reports are not even filed because the lines for escaping domestic violence (police, shelters, phone lines, etcetera.) attend only women and girls, or demonstrate a clear bias towards those victims. Plus, as it happens with women as well, abuse doesn't present just physically, but also emotionally and psychologically.

However, just to give you all an idea, in the UK, for example, it's estimated that almost 20% of domestic violence reports were from men in the last two years (2022-23), according to ManKind Initiative. In the US, according to The Tech Report, almost 45% of men believe they were victims of abusive relationships in their lives. In Australia, according to the Australian Bureau of Statistics, 38% of victims of violence in the country were men, 64% being DV-related.

Now, there is a reason for this, and this is called patriarchy. Patriarchy is the concept of one of the pillars of how our society is built, and it means the subjugation of one binary gender (female) by another binary gender (male) - although this definition is more for this essay's purpose than accurate for an academic study for example. It's important to note that gender violence presents itself against women institutionally (through proper institutions, such as the legal system, for example, or a company's hierarchy) and structurally (it's in the roots of our society culturally and thus, infecting everything else).

According to The Patriarchs, journalist Angela Saini's latest book, the Patriarchy is something tricky to explore even for our earlier academics, such as Engels, for example, because it presents itself in many different ways. For example, it changes its characterization according to culture, environmental needs, History, and other factors. Still, the important thing is that it has various different aspects in the areas it's present.

What I want to explore goes a little bit further: I want to understand how the oppression of women affects men because, unlike many other kinds of oppression, gender-related violence affects their enforcers (men) as well as their victims (women). Now, I am not saying this violence is equal to each other: violence against women permeates our societies' very core, it's ingrained in our institutions, in our culture. But on an interpersonal level, gender violence affects men and women both.

Men are pressured into "being a man" (a white person doesn't have to prove they're white in the same sense or with the same intensity as a man has to prove his man-ness), they're molded to become people in disconnection to their own emotions, they're encouraged to be violent or at least not to be "emotional", to the point of not even noticing when they're suffering some kind of violence or from a mental disorder, for example.

This plays a significant role in how we view abuse when perpetrated by women against men but it's not all we need to observe when talking about male DV victims.

Another matter I'd like to point out is the way we view feminine violence: in the Introduction of her best-seller, Lady Killers, Tori Telfer talks about how violence committed by women is often put under one of three categories: the mysticism, the sexualization, or the banalization. That is, socially, we have a habit of thinking about violence perpetrated by women as either mythological, sexy, or just plain silly, and therefore dumb and/or laughable.

Telfer's examples throughout the book are great and I recommend the book for more insight, but to me, three cases stick out to follow as examples:

How the first woman serial killer we have Historical records of, Elizabeth Ridgeway, was killed for being a witch (mysticism);

How Nannie Doss, an old lady who fit all the 50s housewife stereotypes and killed men with poison in her cakes, had her intelligence belittled by people trying to paint her as insane despite many psychiatrical reports of her being exceptionally clever, how she was labeled by the media as "Arsenic Nannie" (banalization)

And finally, how women who perpetrate violence are often sexualized, such as Raya and Sakina, from the beginning of 20th-century Egypt, who were tied closely to the criminal underworld of their neighborhood and who actually developed a method of killing four people with little blood and avoiding messes; or Lizzie Halliday, who was labeled "the worst woman on earth" with clear implications of her ugliness; or at last, Erzsébet Báthory, known more popularly as Countess Dracula despite having been a lot crueler than the name leads you to believe; they were all sexualized one way or another, their crimes fitting their appearances rather than their acts.

What I mean to point out by that is that feminine violence is something we as a society have a tendency to downplay to a dangerous level. Part of that is a result of downplaying violence as a whole, doesn't matter the perpetrator, but a big part of it is because we see violence as a men's trait. Culturally, violence is a characteristic we attribute to men while women are "even-tempered", motherly, nurturing, and delicate.

Those are the traits of femininity. Violence is not something we easily attribute to women, while men can be only violent, domineering, "warriors".

Now, intimate partner violence (IPV) against males and perpetrated by women is significantly overlooked and under-researched. Hell, there was a real and huge doubt whether men could be r*ped at the beginning of the 2000s, and even now there are people who still don't see how men can be sexually abused.

What we do know about IPV is that, according to this article, women and men have roughly the same rate of occurrences of physical abuse against their partners, and in most of the non-reciprocal violent relationships, women were mostly the perpetrators, although it is true that the more violent abuse occurrences are mostly perpetrated by men:

"Archer Reference Archer5 attempted to resolve two competing hypotheses about partner violence, either that it involves a considerable degree of mutual combat or that it generally involves male perpetrators and female victims. His meta-analysis of 82 studies of gender differences in physical aggression between heterosexual partners showed that men were more likely to inflict an injury; 62% of those injured by a partner were women, but men still accounted for a substantial minority of those injured. However, women were slightly more likely than men to use one or more act of physical aggression and to use such acts more frequently. Younger aged couples showed more female-perpetrated aggression."

Again, that's not to say that violence committed against women in our patriarchal society is in any way equivalent to what men suffer as victims of IPV because that's not true. Violence against women is in every corner of our culture, it's in the roots of our society, and violence against men is not as institutional or structural as acts of violence perpetrated against men.

But I have to criticize how we view (or maybe it's best to say how little we view, or even consider) male victims of DV when we're talking about the matter because not only we are then perpetrating patriarchal beliefs that continue to harm us, we're also portraying women as being inherently and perpetually victims of violence, always in a place of perceived inferiority (although I need to point out there is nothing inferior about suffering violence) while men fall under the category of always the perpetrators of that violence.

That's undeniably harmful because it generates a dangerous generalization in individual cases, such as Johnny Depp, for example. Many of the people I saw defending Heard seemed to not comprehend that only because Johnny Depp was in a place of societal power in relation to AH (because he was, as an older, richer man) that wasn't enough of a reason to believe he was guilty of what she accused him of. Just because generally we might rightly point out a systemic oppression of women by men, it doesn't mean that we should apply those principles to individual cases, especially when we don't have access to concrete evidence and in high-profile cases such as Depp v Heard.

Now, after all of that, I need to point out a personal opinion of mine and bear in mind I don't have anything to base myself here so feel free to criticize it if you disagree (just remember to be nice, please): all of these facts make me ask myself how many of those cases of IPV were labeled as "mutual" (because there's actually a pretty fierce discussion on the matter of whether or not mutual abuse exists from what I could find, and mostly of academic research seem to understand that mutual abuse does exist) are actually mutual and not - in case of heterosexual relationships - emotional manipulation on the perpetrator's side.

And that leads me to ask myself how many of the false reports made by women against their male partners (which are the minority of reported DV cases, let's be clear here) were labeled as mutual because the men "fought back"? How many men who were victims of emotional manipulation didn't stay in those relationships or settle cases because of the threat of their female partners reporting them back from abuse as well?

And amongst those people, how many men did actually something that could be considered violent against their partner (talking now about emotional and psychological abuse, excluding the physical aspect for now) in an act of self-defense or instinctual nastiness as a defense mechanism against something that hurt them?

Having been a reactive victim in an emotionally abusive relationship myself, I can say with some ease that I said things that I know for sure truly hurt my abuser, I know I said things in the last days of our relationship that I would never say to other people if I wasn't so defensive right out the beginning of our latest interactions. But I refuse to fall into the trap of believing myself to be an equally abusive part of that relationship because I also know I did the work to try and better our relationship, I know because my other relationships are healthy and close and emotionally vulnerable and the whole circus.

So what I do have to ask myself is that in those IPV cases in heterosexual relationships where our first reaction is to classify them as mutual abuse or something like that... what do we expect from our male victims of IPV? What does the perfect male victim of IPV look like? Is it reasonable for us to expect men not to defend themselves at all because they're generally stronger than women?

Of course, I'm not advocating here that any kind of violence against your partner is okay because they're abusing you to any gender - self-defense has explicit rules to be applied for that exact reason. I'm simply pointing out that maybe we're diving into dangerous territory, or being overly zealous, considering mutual abuse at the maximum, or not believing men at all on the other side of the spectrum, when we're presented with a heterosexual case of IPV where the female was clearly or almost undoubtedly violent throughout the relationship.

That's the many reasons I can think to question people when they are presented with a case of DV of a woman committing abuse against their male partner. Because as much as women are socially oppressed, our biases in regard to gender affect our views of both men and women and can be really dangerous when generally applied to individual cases.

So yeah, I'm not thrilled with our critical skills when it comes to male victims of abuse, loves.

Not at all.

(if you're gonna answer, remember to be nice!)

[planets-and-prose]

Writeblr Re (Re, re, re) Introduction!

Hi all, I'm Ten. Again. I've been on Writeblr since, like...2018? 2019? College. I was in college, I had lots of time, lots of energy, super active. Then, well, I graduated, had to adult, the absolute love of my life became disabled, and now I'm a social worker doing my goddamn best. So I've been dead on this account for like, at least 2 years. Maybe 3.

But I'm, like, basically a cockroach, and I'm never going to get away from the desire to write things, so I'm working hard to try again, engage, prioritize the things that bring me joy. So, blurb aside, some shit about me under the cut!

I'm 24, and I do specifically case management and behavioral health services, but I shorten it to social work. Basically, I help advocate for individuals with mental illnesses and act as a buddy while they learn, or relearn, how to function in the community and work on themselves.

All my writing is queer. Literally all of it. I am deeply allergic to not putting LGBT+ rep in my writing, even if there's no romance people are LGBT+. Personally I am asexual, panromantic, violently nonbinary, and a complete disaster. My pronouns are they/them.

I write mostly sci-fi, fantasy, and supernatural type stories. And I always do happy endings. I deal with some really low lows in my daily life, writing is my escape, so I like to live in my worlds where everything turns out okay in the end, no matter how much suffering happens first (read: i am a slut for hurt/comfort).

Right now, my energy is so low that I do not want to commit to betaing anything long form, but I'd love to read excerpts, shorter stuff, cheer you on, etc!

I am also down to be a reference for people wanting to portray mental illness. Personally I have the classic depression/anxiety/PTSD cocktail, but I also have ADHD and have lots of experience with what mental illness looks like on a daily basis. Also a decent reference for LGBTQ stuff, especially in rural areas, and stuff relating to my job.

Finally, I'm probably coming off as a bit cynical here, and I do often cuss/use sarcasm, but I genuinely want to hug all of your OC's and I want to do my best to support y'all with the few spoons I have!

About my WIP's:

You can tell I have ADHD by the WIP turnover rate in this blog. I have tags for them I believe, an organized post might happen later, but here's the two new shiny WIP's I anticipate working on the most over the next bit.

A supernatural...vaguely horror, vaguely satire, series of short stories about a group of people, all of whom met at a college, who meet up and protect their college town from monsters. I hate to call it Scooby-Doo meets Supernatural vibes, because it's not QUITE that? It's based on the RPG Monster of the Week, so hopefully that gives you an idea of the vibes.

I am also hoping to start a fantasy, dnd like WIP involving a character I absolutely adore that I made for another story with my partner that needs his own spinoff. More info to come? Hopefully?

I won't lie to y'all and promise consistency or activity, but I'm hoping sharing some of my stuff will help motivate me to get back into Writeblr. Sending love to y'all, and pls feel free to rant to me about your WIPs too!

[thcinfernal]

⸺ GUIDELINES :

this is a portrayal of KARLACH CLIFFGATE from baldur's gate 3 and influenced as such. other dnd influences will be peppered into the portrayal very lightly as i actually know nothing about it outside of what i need to know from google and ikaros. written by -- aphelion, 32, they/them lesbian. this blog is also heavily influenced by @thcdoomed and dronia will be the main ship and if not actively talking about a ship or world ourselves, everything will be based around the world i have developed with ikaros for ease of interaction.

i. PLOT DRIVEN & MEME CENTRIC , i strongly prefer all threads to be started with a meme because it gives me a basis of ideas. if i love what's happening, i will be randomly shouting about it in tags or your dms. but, if you have a plot you would love to fulfill, i promise you i'm all ears.

ii. PARA & ABOVE , rest assured that other then a few back & forth for comedy reasons, one-liners will bore me.

iii. GOD-MODING , is absolutely allowed for most reasons if it involves things like : fade to black, time skipping, or action scenes. i doubt karlach can dodge most magic anyway. the only reason it isn't acceptable is if you physically control karlach outside of these reasons.

iv. SHIP FRIENDLY , and sex positive. karlach is a horny character and i won't necessarily be watering that down. but that also doesn't mean she needs sex to function, she's wholly comfortable with asexual partners. the communication is needed. while a lot of what i do revolves around writing partner, i'm still open for ships.

v. GORTASH , i hate him ( and it's mostly because of fandom interpretation ) and i will not allow redemption threads with him. karlach will not forgive him. antagonistic threads are acceptable, of course. ZARIEL : is a little more lenient, i will allow redemption threads for her.

vi. THE UPDATE / ANNOYANCE : i will not like or interact with any type of post regarding interacting with the post if i still want to interact 'like this post if you want to stay mutuals.' or 'like this post if you're still interested in interacting.' there has not been a case thus far where the other person doesn't put effort in or owes me or something. i will promptly unfollow.

vii. CREDITS : i commissioned hyrule shop for a few graphics, i'm positive you'll be able to tell the difference between my edits and maruja's edits. otherwise, the psd i use is what i said.

viii. WITH ALL DUE RESPECT , if you're hesitantly interacting with me because i'm on my ex's DNI , they win. just fucking unfollow me. that 'old drama' is them treating me like shit , breaking up with me , being passive-aggressive and then spelling my whole goddamn name wrong. they change their blogs urls and alias far too much for me to even know what it is now.

[shhhhhiminsidesaitamascloset]

✩My Two Cents... on Genos✩

I wanna start making a summary series called "My Two Cents" . Im not sure how often i'll do this, but it'll give me an idea for think pieces related to anything anime and fandom...

Ok so im going to admit something : i am not crazy about Genos.

His character design alone (mostly his personality) is built under the guise of the popular hot anime guy. A trope as a non conformist i truly loathe.

His personality mostly consists of him being Saitama's fanboy. He does have a serious demeanor which is also a pretty unoriginal personality trait.

Before you diss me, here me out! How many anime guys out there are the serious type already? Also he mostly is just the generic analytical logic based cyborg that functions mostly like a ai. One who has strong bonds to people who protect or save them.

Its not inherently a bad thing that Genos has these traits! Its just that it seems to be a reoccuring theme in fiction that seems to be unoriginal at this point. Correct me if im wrong, but these things do not make him special to the degree most try to speak on.

Not saying that cyborgs and androids should be more sentient and not serious in nature. I think it may be something that'll have to grow on me as a fan. I didnt care for Kenpachi Zaraki at first when i started Bleach. Maybe with time Genos will grow on me.

Even though i made that point, a lot of robot characters can be likeable and even funny for being out of touch on certain nuances. Though, Genos just seems like a carbon copy of many androids, cyborgs, and robots and fandom just lose their shit over it. Though, I cant say that as an official declaration.

Maybe its just that he gets a lot of attention i think. The attention he does get is more rooted from fanservice and that he's some hot cyborg. Genos gets a "meh" from me because i dont fall for things like that in characters a lot of times.

He isnt the worst character but he seems overhyped for a cliche mech/tech trope. I'm just hoping later as i go through the series i'll find something noteworthy about him that'll make me eat my words.

Im just someone that doesnt go for popular ships or characters unless i feel like something is there. SaiGenos isnt one of those ships.

Im sorry. Its cute in its own way! But its not for me. Saifubu looks promising to me from clips of Saitama and Fubuki's interaction online. So who knows?

I think if i ever give anymore summaries or analysis on characters it'll be clear that i have a disdain for anything and everything popular or mainstream. Unless i like it myself, i will probably end up giving a bias diss towards it.

Only because i feel like if i like something i want to like it because its good to me. JoJo was like that. A lot of popular anime i liked including ones from the big three were like that.

Im just not the type to jump on bandwagons. Especially at my age i embrace just being original more so.

But i hope from this you dont think i hate Genos. At times he can be adorable. But im just not as crazy about him as most are. Hope that clears everything up ✩

[cyrusthedragon]

thanks to your post I got kinda intrigued by Freed x Cana WHAT?? How did I not see it sooner? I feel like they'd balance each other out so well. They're both strong personalities and if they fight oh they fights are BAD but when they make up again? You know it's gonna be passionate. Freed always respected Cana and Cana was always like 'the guy's weird and does things his own way but I respect him too, Freed let's have a drink yea'? And the more they talk the more they get comfy around each other and we know Cana likes to flirt and at first Freed either brushes it off with an eye roll or he huffs and smiles but the first time Freed flirts back or, better yet, initiates the flirt? Cana fucking BLUSHES and cannot function and Freed smirks smugly, guy is smooth and Cana had NOT seen it coming. Freed loves teasing her and Cana loves to tease back and be a brat to tickle out his dominant devil side. And I'm sorry and also not sorry for this rant. Also Miraxus and Frecana double dates because they're BESTIES

I wrote...a huge reply to this...a huge...and it went away.........vanished... I'm- okay, let's recreate it.

This.

This is gorgeous.

This is what I see whenever I think about frecana, actually.

One-sided fraxus, mostly frecana, slightly miraxus in the very end, mentioning bicksanna and elfgreen!!

Ngl, I absofukinglutely like this idea, and I NEED to discuss it more so I hope you don't have aah..trigger(?) on one-sided fraxus (cuz, let's be honest with each other, though fraxus is not my pair, I'm not blind to not see how Freed loves Laxus, in any ways, not just romantically, that's why I do love Freed, bro is gorgeous, he's a family) but my brain just thinks what if (as we know that Cana (with Mirajane Strauss herself) is literally Fairy Tail's drunk matchmaker™, what's kinda scarier than Bacchus' drunk fighting style cuz Cana kill more people when she sends them on dates) Cana was the one who somehow found out about the not quite 'manly' (sorry, Elfman) love of Freed for Laxus, and she was like, drunk af, placing a hand on his shoulder and making him blush from her pressure: "daaamn, boy, that's a problem...let make that motherfucker see ya', shall we?"

"Cana-san, I don't think it's a good idea-.." he tried to resist, but the girl saw a thing, and she almost SWORE she'd do it, cus she was Cana Alberona, and she was capable of everything, you know. So she promised to keep her mouth shut from everyone else, including Mirajane, Fairy Tail's second matchmaker, and slowly began to work.

Despite the fact that initially Freed seemed weird, cuz he was always quiet, never drank normally, and didn’t even fight, in the end, Cana, during their meetings, took a liking to him. The boy was fiiine. He was quite a gentleman, and she relaxed with him so much that one day she even complained about all the other men: "I still do like them... They're cool..." She said, laying on the table, "But also soo ruude... And stupid and disrespectful! And always talking about that one sex thing, like c'mon, I'm not a prude, but not on a first date, goddammit!". He knew she wouldn't listen to anything right now, she wanted no pity on her, she only wanted someone to nod, and he did so: nodded at her words, slowly observing. Boy was so cute when he did these kinds of things, that Cana couldn't help but one day laugh out: 'dammit! WHY ARE YOU GAY?'.

Freed (in his signature calm way) said that actually he's not gay, he's bisexual. But did that woman listen? Of course not, why would she. Although, after that Cana giggly said that she's bisexual herself, cuz maaaan... Have you EVER seen like...titties? Women?? Does she really need to explain that?? And he chuckled, not able to hide it, and somehow he noticed that she was quite cute when she was talking about her interests, was it alcohol, her cards, other people, or something else. She was a pretty good companion too, who could listen to him like, for hours, tho he wasn't very talkative for life. And she really looked interested, god knows how mixing her curiosity and attentiveness to his words with 'duuude, that's so boring...' she was saying almost at everything. But still listening closely to him. Something in her made Freed believe she didn't actually find things boring, she was just mocking, and that's what he learned about her too, not to mention other stuff.

Like now truly strong she was.

He saw that clearly. Cheerful, and positive, she had what he did not have - she was always relaxed, which at first seemed strange, but then Freed noticed that he himself began to relax next to her. She was funny too. And he laughed with her, more and more, because she had an interesting sense of humor that might seem kinda dark in the first place. But what else Cana had was an inexpressibly big heart, which was shown by the fact that at some point she completely immersed herself in the idea of ​​helping Freed, and even forgot herself in it.

But she failed.

She always fails.

But that one was... different. Cana tried, really wanted to help him. Freed always spoke about Laxus and about his own feelings in such a way that at some point Cana even became a little envious - she'd like to be loved as pure and tenderly, as Laxus was. So Cana tried to do everything she could to help Freed. He deserved it. Boy (keep in mind that Cana is eighteen, and Freed is twenty, but who cares) was kind, lovely, adorable even, and she sincerely wanted to help him get what he wanted. It just... It just didn't work. She didn't know Laxus was taken (not officially, but was), and she absolutely wasn't mad at Mirajane, yet something in her was so upset, that for some reason Freed felt more bad about her, than about his broken heart. Truth be said, he was not as sad as he thought he would be in that case. Maybe he was even happy a little for Laxus and Mira-san, Mirajane was a good person, he liked her, and she helped him realize important things back in the day. But Cana...

They were slightly away from the Guild, she was beside him, her head down, her brows furrowed, her lips pressed into a thin line. He wanted to do something he didn't know what exactly, maybe something weird (again) like put his hand on her head and say that everything was alright, but when he only thought about it, Cana suddenly lit up, grabbing him by the shoulders and looking into his eyes with all the confidence she had:

"I'm gonna find you a new man!" Freed stood there in pure shock, losing his words. "And he'd be even more handsome than Laxus! And cooler! And stronger, so you can spar with him, and do other stuff, got it? He'd be, like, the manliest man in this whole world, dude, you got my word," she was so...loud and shining, her eyes shone with this idea, and Freed still could not bring himself together to say something when she suddenly continued, "...And, you know, there are plenty of people who'd like to be with you, you're smart, and pretty, and gentle, and understanding, serious, responsible, brave, caring, damn, you're like an ideal man, got it?! Like a perfect one! Seriously! Men will fight to go on a date with you! And not just man, wo-"

And he cut her. Because he could. Because she was suddenly so... Charming. Because she was trying so hard to help him, even if she was hard to understand sometimes, even if she was eighteen percent of the time drank, loud, bubbly, and bold, she was so charming when she talked about things she truly wanted to do, that he couldn't resist that damn desire to kiss her. It was so stupid, he was so stupid, he was as stupid as Bickslow (as THAT'S AN INSULT!), maybe more. She liked to call him a true gentleman, but there was nothing gentlemanly in that. And he knew he'd be ashamed later. Fuck it, he was ashamed at moment.

He didn't even notice how he took her hands in his, warming them, he noticed it only when their lips parted, and he stepped back, just to stop feeling that heat from her body.

Cana was stunned.

And silent.

And Cana was never silent.

Beautiful, reddened from her cheeks to the very neck, with her chestnut wavy hair, mouth slightly open, and with her lips wet, she was...

Fuck.

He tried to open his mouth to say something, apologize, not sure if she at least would want to listen to him after that reckless, impudent move he did. But right when he found enough strength to do so, she JUMPED on him, making the poor guy squick on her lips before both of them fell on the ground, rolling down the hill.

And perhaps they weren't too far from the Guild to think no one would see them.

"My, my!.."

Mirajane, passing by because of the task given by Master, stopped. And Laxus, accompanying her because he had no more things to do and too much free time, obviously, not because he wanted to spend a day with her, stopped next to her, looking at her smiley face with a brow raised questionably.

"Laxus, look!" She nodded at Freed and Cana at the foot of the hill, and giggled, tilted her head to look at him: "I didn't know Cana was with Freed!"

He shrugged:

"Well, I didn't know Freed was into women, so... Shit happens."

"Oh, don't be so indifferent!" Mira scolded him and went on her way, although Laxus knew for sure that if she had not received an order from her dear Master Makarov, she would've stopped just to watch them a little more. He snorted, following her, maybe closer than was needed.

"I'm not, it's just you're too into other people's businesses."

She elbowed him, pouting theatrically (just for him to know he was being rude!), and Laxus caught her hand with his, sliding fingers down and grabbing her palm, still with that calm and slightly mocking look on his face.

He didn’t think much about some (as it seemed to them) lovers, if Freed was happy - so be it, Cana was a good girl, maybe he'd learn more from her wildness, who knows. Although, Laxus did care about the well-being of his friends, and especially of his family, and Freed was his family, no doubt, and so was Cana for Mirajane. She turned her head back to him after a couple of minutes, and immediately started talking about how cute they looked together, all excited about the newly formed couple in the Guild, and giggling about how popular Thunder God Tribe was since every one of them was already taken.

Well.

"At least, they're not as bad as Bickslow and Lisanna," he smirked, letting her scold him more.

God, this woman just loved hitting him for no reason.

If Cana was the same as her so-called sister to him and Ever with Lisanna to Elfman and Bickslow (last ones definitely deserved to be beaten, Laxus was more than proud of Evergreen and his little sister), then Laxus genuinely felt sorry for Freed.

Haha.

It's such a cliché, I'm dying --- but i love this so much, i can't. Also, plz interact with me if you like this or write me (ask me) if you like frecana, miraxus (my first main), bicksanna (my second main) and elfgreen, cuz i love them sm, i really wanna talk about them--- ‼️

[sadieshavingsex]

purity culture is so funny

because of the way it makes literally everything about sex. It's like a flowchart where the answer to every single query returns sex.

What is good? Sex. What is bad? Sex. What is a natural human function? Sex. What needs to be controlled at all costs? Sex. What would make me happier than anything? Sex. What is ruining things in my life? Sex.

I only really noticed the power of this conceptualization when I started to actually experience sex. Turns out that avoiding it is just the tip of the iceberg. When you start having it after swearing it off for so long... that's where things really get interesting.

I've realized that, for me, while sex can trigger my anxiety, it also works the opposite way, with my anxiety often pivoting any nervous thought toward sex for seemingly no reason. As a result, sex begins to infiltrate all kinds of serious conversations where it might not even actually be relevant. Read on for some thoughts on the ways anxiety and sex influence each other in an exvangelical life.

ps: to be perfectly honest, I'm no expert and I'm not a therapist. I write these mostly to keep myself sane, so please take my musings with a grain of salt.

Let's start with the obvious. When I first got into a sexual relationship, there was the classic thought loop: I'm anxious or something is going wrong in the relationship. The only difference between now and the past is that I'm having sex. Therefore, the sex must be the underlying problem. Even if I can't pinpoint how sex is related to the actual anxiety or the relational issue occurring, it's definitely the variable that has changed, and it's causing the problem.

This kind of thinking is so funny because of course it reinforces and heightens the anxiety around sex that is already present in purity culture. There's an obvious neural pathway being worn here. Sex is understood as something exceptionally special and unique, never before experienced, a total gamechanger that already makes a person nervous, and that game changer begins to get perceived in an increasingly negative way. A person starts to think things like, "If I'm anxious about sex, it must be worth being anxious about. The things I was taught were true. Sex is extremely important. It has a hold over me and makes me act in irrational ways that I don't understand. It is also obviously very frightening and negative if not experienced in exactly the right way. Maybe I am doing it wrong. Maybe I am not ready for this huge responsibility." And on and on. Not only does purity culture accomplish the heightening of anxiety around having sex, but it also very easily creates a link between anxiety and sex; rather than just "I get anxious about sex," there becomes an association where "If I am anxious at all, it must be about sex" and "If I am having sex, it must make me anxious."

This ever-strengthening link between anxiety and sex, along with the purity culture messaging that sex is the most important "gift" a person can give their partner, created for me another difficult thought pattern: Whenever I got into a serious argument with my partner, no matter what the discussion was actually about, I would find myself sooner or later resorting to the same core thought. "I love them, but we should probably stop having sex. I'm giving them everything! Sex is the biggest thing I have to give. It's the most committed I can get. Am I really okay with allowing myself to have sex with a person who _________?"

The actual argument was often about commitment levels and working through barriers to a long term relationship. It might have been about one of us not being able to effectively communicate or meet the other's needs, or it might be about some more specific tiff that we were having at the moment. Nonetheless, the content of the actual argument never felt like the constant. In my own mind, the constant was that we were having sex, the most sacred thing that could not be performed without the utmost commitment or the promise of forever. My own narrative about the situation, no matter what it was, eventually devolved not into "I am frustrated with them because _________" or "I really wish we could change ___________." The narrative I spoke to myself was inherently about sex and the idea that, by having sex, I was giving up too much of myself and committing to this person in too large a way before I should have. The ultimate implication was that I could put up with whatever frustrated me if I thought of myself as a friend or a lover or even a roommate, but I could not tolerate that behavior as a sex partner, because having sex was the most committed we could ever possibly be. It was the most intimate act and I could not believe that I would ever let a normal partner access it with me. I had to save it for someone I was more compatible with or more committed to. I couldn't conceptualize sex as simply a part of most adult relationships; I always devolved into the purity culture attitude that I had to withhold sex until a point of greater commitment.

Oftentimes, the arguments and anxieties were about commitment, but they simply became arguments and anxieties about sex. Sex was synonymous with commitment to me. It was the symbol of the greatest commitment, not something I could do with simply "a loving and committed partner." I had to stop having sex with them because they should be "THE MOST loving and committed partner I WOULD EVER HAVE," or at least believe that future was a possibility. When I got upset about our struggles to commit to each other in other ways, I just transferred that anxiety to stressing about sex and thinking that, by having it, I was "committing too much." I was not working on our actual problems or how to fix them. I was just affirming my own anxieties around sex, repeating the purity culture idea of "the one" back to myself under the guise of "keeping my independence" or "having some self respect and not committing so much."

The ultimate problem with all of these compounding purity culture reinforcers, I think, is that when I step back, I truly believe sex to be the most intimate and committed thing a person can do with me. That's just not the truth, and it's honestly kind of sad to think that I believe this lie.

I love music. I love art. I'm an intellectual person. I enjoy telling stories. I care about educating others on causes that interest and move me. Hell, one of the things I'm passionate about is showing others that beauty standards are silly. There is so much more to me than my body, and I would rather bond with someone over most anything else. The fact that I am so anxious and hold my body in such a high regard, the fact that I sometimes feel fearfully compelled to seek out someone who, over everything, is sexually compatible with me (read: is just as traumatized as me so we don't do anything until marriage), feels so unfair and odd. It simply shouldn't be the case.

I long for a life where I bond with someone over things that are most important to me - fun inside jokes, interesting books, good food, activism, the arts - without the entire relationship crumbling under the weight of my fear of sex. This recurring situation feels like such an unfair predicament.

If I could have a life do-over and be raised in a secular household, my assumption is that I'd be a sex positive person who wanted to have a deep relationship with my partner in so many other, more important ways. I think I would enjoy sex only with people I really deeply loved, but I wouldn't care too much about it. I wouldn't assign so much value to this physical pleasure and connection. I could take it or leave it, but it wouldn't control my life and my view of relationships. As it is now, it feels like the grooves are worn very deep, and I have a very long way to go until anything even remotely like that vision comes true.

[error-404-fuck-not-found]

venting sorry

tomorrow's my last full day in this house before the movers come and i'm in sobbing dry heaving territory of having everything familiar ripped out from under me right after massive layoffs at work and it just feels like everything is transient and stability is a joke and everything only ever gets worse from here and it is just not possible for me to see any of the good that can come of the move. i keep trying to distract myself with anything at all that used to make me happy and it isn't working

i know my own energy levels and while i won't be that far away from the stuff i like out here, it'll still be too far away for me to ever do any of it ever again. i'm just. gonna end up cut off from my little community and i can't even go out and enjoy any of it cause i'll be thinking "i'll never get to have this again" the whole time and it'll ruin it.

there were SO many places i wanted to drag my parents one day. i wanted to bring dad to the really good irish pub for fish and chips. i wanted to bring mom to the eight billion antiques places but mostly the biggest warehouse one with all the cool displays. literally never going to happen now.

sorry to dump that out, i'm just having a very shitty time and after a month of trying to convince myself i was functioning fine through any of it, it's hitting home that literally everything is going to be harder now and there's not even a fucking point to it. the landlord makes more fucking money, and i get cut off from easy access to food, healthcare, my hobbies, my job, and every other thing under the sun.

my life would have been on fucking easy street if i just got the damn house back in january 2020. if there is just one thing in my life that i wish got a do-over, it's that. i shouldn't be living in a world where one single person's whim to go back on their promise to me then fucks me over for the rest of my life until i die