#it's a shame that now as an adult my peers don't ask me about what happened very much

[yardsards]

on one hand it's probably for the best that there were no jokes about rainer's disability but on the other hand, rainer absolutely strikes me as a fellow member of the "uses our visible disability for lame puns and prop comedy" gang

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

I think it's very fun to talk about mental health in normalizing conversations because when I was little and I would tic so hard for so long that I started crying, my mom would hold my hands and tell me to stand on her toes and she would "dance me through it" and so I would and she would spin around and around, stepping carefully so my little feet never slipped off the top of her feet, but moving fast so I would get all giggly and dizzy, and by the end she was right! My ticcing wasn't as bad anymore.

And like. I know now that it's because I was actively stressing myself out trying to stop ticcing, and since my tics are stress-reactive that obviously made it worse, but at the time I was just a kindergartener living in a world where dancing made my body stop performing the compulsions and so sometimes I would "dance myself through it" if mom wasn't around and when people maxe fun of me for it, I couldn't do that around them anymore and so I would tic more often and get more overwhelmed and there were days I wouldn't stop ticcing for hours on end because no one but my mom was willing to just let me dance through them.

But until the first time that happened, I didn't know there was anything unusual or unfamiliar to others about what I was doing. My mom was just so matter of fact about it "when you can't stopticcing, that's your body asking you to move and dance amd get the stress out" so I believed her! Of course I did. And she was right even, at least for me.

I was an adult by the time I learned that my mom ticc'd too, because she'd been doing what she taught me for so long that it was rare it happened visibly anymore, and it made sense that she'd been able to move me through my own experience so gently after that. But what if it didn't take a parent sharing our experience to be able to exist in a context that doesn't pathologize or shame what's happening?

Anyway, I've been in and out of various inpatient and outpatient programs since I was 7yrs old, and nothing did more damage to me than the people who taught my mother that there were things about my brain and body that were Wrong TM and needed fixing when she had spent the entirety of my life up to that point accommodating my needs and helping me understand how to coexist in the world on my own terms. I've benefitted from having names for things, sure, and I've had great healing and community in peer groups based around sharing those experiences. But at the end of the day, it is when those same spaces allow me to decide how to talk about what my life feels like that they have meant the most to me. I will always be grateful to the mental health care providers in my life who have been supportive of this type of care for me, but ultimately I also understand that they were able to do that because they were actively breaking down my framework of "because I experience x, I must compensate with y" into a gentler version that goes more like "because I experience x, I may need to seek out y outcome in different or unexpected ways."

I don't know why that makes as much difference to me as it does, but it does.

Anyway, I want to do for someone else what my mom did for me. I want someone else to get to feel like they can ask themselves what they need to get through something and not set any particular moral or emotional meaning to that need.

I have, among others, symmetry tics. If I experience a sensation on one side of my body, I will often reflexively try to adequately mirror it on the other side of my body. One of the pitfalls I often fall into is "the symmetry tic was actuallya different sensation and now I have to mirror THAT on the original side" and off we go into a tic spiral. The trick, for me, has been learning how to hold myself safely in the stress of the tic compulsion until the original sensation passes or fades and that allows the compulsion to fade with it. That can be hard, but taking a cue from my mom, I've found that when I occupy my body with movement, especially goal oriented but indefinite movement like dance, I have a MUCH easier time waiting for the trigger sensation to fade. I think it's good for those of us with experiences we often feel compelled to hide from view to get time in the sun. It lets us remember that our existence is not inherently side-lined in favor of other existences, and we do have the right to ask people to work with us on creating space for our own version of living. That may not guarantee us the desired outcome, but I've found that feeling you have the right to ask in the first place and actively come to the conclusion TOGETHER that there is not a solution is what seems to allow me to make those compromises without feeling erased or ashamed when I do.

[michirukaioureincarnate]

Bike Ride on the Sea Side

Haruka Tenoh x Reader Oneshot - cont. in Body Pillow (smut)

Fandom: Sailor Moon Pairing: Haruka Tenoh x reader | Sailor Uranus x reader Genre(s): Fluff 𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭 | NSFW 𖹭𖹭 | Angst 𖹭 Theme(s): secure x avoidant | confession | first kiss Warning(s): Swearing Summary: You were under the impression that Haruka enjoyed your company and liked you over the past two dates. The constant texting after you unexpected meet-cute really made you believe things could go somewhere with them. But the two-week dry spell between you two had you believing otherwise. It's a shame because you really, really liked them. Reading Stats: 5000 words | 20 min read Disclaimer: All characters are consenting adults | Aged 21+

─────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────────── A/n: okay the genre and theme is so ??? but GIVE ME A FUMKIN MINUTE I'm trynna make this idea work please fkjahjfskh it's been on my mind for a while now also kinda coping with the drama an avoidant ex-situationship put me in and now she's coming back wanting a shot with me again even though SHE HAS A MONOGAMOUS GF Y'ALL I- 👁️👄👁️ ─────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆────────────

⋅ ⛢ ⋅

It's not like you were sitting around waiting for Haruka to text you. You weren't one to chase anyone or anything if reasonable efforts did not yield expected results. One could say you were too logical and unromantic.

"It's about the chase, Y/N!" your best friend insisted. "How is Haruka supposed to know you like them at all?"

You narrowed your eyes at her. "You know me, okay? I'm literally a shameless and open book." A small huff followed as you glared at your phone on the coffee table. "Besides...I asked them last week if everything was okay. They brushed me off, so why bother?"

"Show it to me," she demanded as she crossed her legs on the couch. She held her hand out and gestured for the phone, and you complied. Peering over her shoulder, you watched her read.

Y/N: Hey, it's been a while since we last talked properly. There's no pressure to reply, I'm just checking in to see if you're alright. Been thinking about you. Just let me know if you need space or anything, yeah? I'm not really sure about what to think or feel right now. 8:51 PM

Haruka: Thanks for checking in :) I'm fine, just caught up with work. Text you soon. 8:53 PM

Y/N: Sure thing! 9:00 PM

"They replied fast," she says curiously.

"A week ago."

She grins at you mischievously. "And does that bother the sensible and unromantic Y/N?"

"Pfft," you scoff. "No, I just don't like false expectations. If they don't wanna text me, they should just say it."

"Yeah, well, no one's as brave as you are," she sighed. "This isn't the first time you've been potentially ghosted."

Hearing it out loud kind of stung. It always did, and it would pass in a few hours before. This time, though, it lingered.

You'd never liked anyone like this before.

Still, you couldn't just ignore the lack of open and consistent communication for the chemistry over two dinners. Even though you didn't entirely dismiss the texting, it was still platonic and surface-level compared to in-person hang outs. And now there were barely any texts to go on.

Snatching your phone back, you tossed it into the pillows on the adjacent armchair and grabbed the remote to open up Netflix on the flatscreen TV.

We don't know each other enough, you consoled yourself internally as your friend settled on a horror movie. They're just some random person you bumped into in a bar of all places. You wanted to meet your soulmate in a library.

No sooner had you thought it did another helpless musing begin to haunt you.

They're so fucking hot, though.

It wasn't just the way they looked, although those dark and brooding eyes would hold you captive with a mere glance any day. You'd been around plenty of attractive people in your life and been approach by some of them as well; but the way people looked never fazed you. Instead, it was their energy and aura that drew you in.

The way Haruka carried themselves was admirable. Was it the straight-back posture? The calculating eyes atop an easy-going smile? Or the sense of purpose that surrounded them with every step taken or every spoken word? Haruka always seemed so certain of things and never missed the opportunity to take action, and you liked that.

It would explain why it felt that they were withdrawing from you. Haruka wasn't acting like they were sure about you anymore. It sucked because, for once in your life, you were sure about someone.

In all your past relationships, you'd always entertained uncertainties and potential in hopes of it blossoming eventually. It was enough that you liked them. But this time, you really wanted to take your time and figure Haruka out regardless of attraction.

"Ugh," you muttered softly as the first jump scare snapped you out of the ruminating, and your best friend's deathly clutch upon your arm left no room for your attention to drift away.

⋅ ⛢ ⋅

You woke up to a loud knock from somewhere. The horror movie had long ended, and your best friend was draped over your lap with drool dripping onto your thigh from the corner of her mouth.

She really has no shame, you think endearingly while carefully sliding out from under her. You throw the blanket over her completely, almost about to tuck her in when another louder knock takes you by surprise.

"What the fuck," you muttered, straining your ear for to locate the source. It sounded way too close for comfort. Your 1 + 1 apartment was too small for an intruder to hide in, so the only logical source was the windows.

You didn't want to go near them. Even though you were on the third floor, you didn't underestimate a stalker's ability to scale the wall for something they'd want bad enough.

The sight of a small rock knocking off your window-pane confirmed your suspicions, and you grabbed your phone to call the police only to notice that it was dead.

With no choice but to face the situation head on, you mustered the courage to confront whoever was out there. You were mentally prepared to scream bloody murder with no regard for your neighbors if it meant driving away the culprit.

Marching over to the window, you looked down into the front yard of the apartment to find a hooded figure looking up.

Right. At. You.

You threw the window open, fully prepared to screech until a lock of fair hair caught the glint of the moonlight. Your heart skipped a beat, and you watched as the figure pushed the hood off their head.

A pair of warm eyes peered at you, and a nervous lopsided smile accompanied it. You hated the way your heart was practically melting at the sight.

"Hey," Haruka said gently, and the wind carried their tomboyishly deep voice up to you. "Been thinkin' about you."

"Haruka, what the fuck?!"

They grinned up at you in amusement. "You don't sound very happy to see me, sweetheart."

"It's nearly–" you looked around for the clock in your house that you rarely consulted, "five in the morning! Who throws rocks at someone's window at this hour?!"

"I tried calling, but you wouldn't pick up," they said apologetically. "My only choice was to come and see you."

You rubbed away the ache blooming under the bridge of your nose. "Couldn't this wait?"

Deep down, you were screaming with happiness. The fact that they came over just because they couldn't get a hold of you was so nonsensical that you would've told anyone off for it. But this was Haruka, and it was hard to contain the joy tugging at the corners of your lips.

They're so stupid, you sighed internally.

"I wouldn't have come all this way if it could," they said sincerely, putting their hands in the pockets of their red and white race car jacket as a chilly breeze brushed past. Their eyes shimmered up at you, reflecting the stars in the sky. There was a tinge of vulnerability to them that caught you off guard. "Could you come down? And, um...dress warm."

"If it's only for a minute then–"

"It's not," they cut in breathlessly. "Maybe thirty minutes."

You raised a suspicious brow at them before walking away to your wardrobe, changing into a pair of warm sweats before grabbing your keys. Slipping into your shoes, you quietly left the apartment and prayed your best friend wouldn't wake up to find you gone. You knew how worried she'd get otherwise.

Quickly making your way down, you jogged out of the building and found Haruka by the street, waiting on the pavement next to a sleek motorbike.

You stopped. On your second date, they picked you up in a sports car to drive to the restaurant and revealed their love for motorcycles on the way.

"Haruka..." you said quietly. "I thought you didn't share your bike with anyone."

"I know," they replied softly before holding their hand out to you. Though you wished they'd just spill what was going on, you took their hand and let them pull you closer.

Their touch was warm against the cold air of the night, your fingers encased in their palm as their thumbs ran over your knuckles almost affectionately. Heat rose to your neck under their intense gaze that searched your face for something. They guided you onto the back of the motorbike securely before getting on turning the key.

A slow hum ran through the vehicle, and Haruka got seated properly before glancing at you over their shoulder.

"Hold on tight, Y/N."

You could feel your face getting hotter, but you reached forward and clamped your hands on their shoulders. They chuckled, pulling on their gloves and revving the engine before suddenly taking off.

The abrupt jerk of the bike had you clamping your arms around their waist instantly, and you were very aware of how firm their back felt against your soft chest.

"Asshole!" you yelled over the wind, only to catch a light chuckle before Haruka sped up. You had no choice but to curl against her spine, holding onto her tightly as you two zipped under the lamp lights of the empty highway. The cold wind was in your hair, and your fingers were freezing in the fists they'd curled into under their diaphragm.

You felt their gloved hand on yours, prying them apart to guide one of them into her jacket's pocket, and then the other one as well. It was such a sweet gesture that you forgot to pretend to be annoyed at them. Their pockets were warm, and you gave into the pleasure of how they felt against your body when you wrapped yourself around them.

Slowly, you coaxed yourself to look up from their shoulder and take in the views. You weren't sure how far away you two were from the apartment, but you could see the vast ocean that opened to the right, disappearing into the horizon where the stars were beginning to disappear.

The sunrise... you realized breathlessly as Haruka drove on the highway along the edge of the beach. Your gaze was fixed on the sky slowly turning a lighter shade of blue. The stars' twinkling faded in anticipation of the first rays of the sun.

Against your chest, Haruka's warmth kept the wind's chill out of your bones. They smelled nice, although a little unconventional; smokey and spiced, like a blend of cinnamon, roses, and the faint linger of cigarettes. You'd never gotten this close to her before, although you had hoped that they'd finally kiss you when you two eventually had a third date.

Wait... you thought. Is this a date?

No, perhaps not. To you, dates should be communicated and planned and prepared for. You would never be found wearing sweats and without a touch of make-up on a date. You found yourself regretting not dabbing on a bit of concealer and mascara. Even some lip gloss would've sufficed.

The motorbike leaned to the right as Haruka took a turn into a road, and the barricades from the edge disappeared. The beach opened up to you directly, with its sand blowing onto the asphalt and the air sticky with salt. The tops of small and calm waves glimmered as an orange spot appeared on the horizon.

The sun was here.

Haruka parked the bike, and you finally straightened up and pulled your arms off them. The embarrassment of having to cling on like that finally registered, and you quickly got off the bike and faced the sea to avoid their gaze. Haruka climbed off and kicked its stand in place, leaning their hips against the gas tank as they crossed their ankles and arms.

Silence.

You wished they'd tell you why they brought you here, but you were a sucker for sunrises and sunsets. With eyes fixed on the horizon, the two of you quietly watched the colors slowly begin to change. The sky was much lighter now, and the curve of brilliant orange ascended behind a few fluffy clouds, turning their underside pink. The waters took on a beautiful deep hue of turquoise with the passing moments, a color you loved so deeply.

"The sunrise is even more beautiful when the sea's surface is there to reflect its light," Haruka hummed softly. "The sun's brilliant on its own, but I suppose it needs to see its reflection to be reminded of it."

Their words took you by surprise.

"Why would the sun need a reminder?" you asked casually. "It's the sun. It sustains everything."

Haruka shook their head. "It's too far away to see the impact of its existence. But the ocean is vast. It stretches out endlessly and can be seen from where the sun it."

It took you a minute to realize Haruka was trying to tell you something.

"And it's important, the ocean. Without it, the sun would've fried up everything on Earth. No one to witness any nice sunrises without it to make life possible, right?"

You were beginning to feel frustrated and swallowed your nervousness to turn their way. The horizon reflected in their deep blue eyes, pouring light into them like they were lanterns. A gust of wind pushed the stray fair locks off their forehead, and they glanced at you. You weren't sure if you were imagining their ears turning pink.

"Where were you the past two weeks?" you asked as nicely as you could, but the undertone of anxiety seeped in. "I thought you didn't want to see me."

Haruka exhaled sharply and dropped their hands to their pockets.

"I was trying not to see you. Well, not too much anyway. I..." they huffed conflictedly as they closed their eyes. "You know I've got a racing season coming up, right? And I was practicing really hard for it. Everyone kept giving me shit for being reckless or risky on the track or whatever, but that's just how I've always won. It's second nature to me, and I know how to win."

You kept quiet as they caught their breath to collect their thoughts.

"I guess it'll be different this time because I made it into a bigger racing series," they continued. "It came as a surprise to everyone, but my team told me that I'll be competing with racers who are in an entirely different league. If anything, they drive much like I do."

"Haruka, could you get injured?" you demanded gently as worry flooded you.

"I mean, maybe?" they replied nervously as they blinked at the horizon. "But every sport has that risk. That's not the point. The point is that the only way to win is to not be reckless, and that's a huge change in approach to manage overnight. I hate change, and I can't do it without some kind of a constant reminder over my head."

I knew it, you thought with a skip of a heartbeat. They were trying to tell me something.

Your heart raced in you chest as they straightened up.

"I crashed last week."

"WHAT?!" you snapped as you grabbed their arm. "Haruka, what the fuck?!"

"I'm fine, promise." They turned to you and placed a comforting hand over your fingers gripping the sleeve of their jacket. "It was barely anything and it's pretty normal but...I berated myself for it. That was a first. I usually just get up and dust myself off, but I caught myself thinking...how will I see Y/N if I got hurt really badly? How would she feel if she saw me crash like that?"

You were left speechless, and your heart was pounding so hard that it could break through your ribcage and fall into Haruka's hands. They came to stand before you, casting a shadow over your body that contained your attention entirely onto them.

"I ran another lap after that crash and realized that I was different," they continued. "I don't know what exactly changed, but it was like a different part of my brain opened up. I saw different ways, better ways, to conquer the tracks that I never really considered before. More possibilities to prepare for, to keep an eye out for, and...it just felt like you were sitting behind me. I couldn't afford to crash again and injure you, but I also wanted to win."

Their hand slid under your fingers to pull it off their arm, holding your hand securely. With their eyes boring into yours, you held their gaze through the butterflies and tremors racking your body. Their grasp is warm, with soft skin interrupted by the occassional calluses from gripping bike handles.

Your mouth was dry, but you still forced yourself to speak. "That doesn't explain why you avoided me."

"I was scared," they said immediately. "My entire life, I've always been so selfish and self-centered without ever realizing it until that crash. For once, you were my first thought right after. I didn't know what to make of it."

A trembling sigh left them as they reached out for your other hand to grip tightly, pulling them close to their chest clasped within their palms. And suddenly, you felt something in the air between your bodies, as if it had become charged. Your skin tingled, every cell of your being tugged forward by an invisible force with a yearning for the warmth that rolled of Haruka's body.

"I avoided you because I've never, ever wanted to run to someone so badly before," they muttered into the air between the two of you. "I wanted you behind me on that bike because your presence was so...so–gosh, I can't find the word."

Your voice was breathy when you spoke. "Palpable..."

They nodded in relief.

The sun rose behind them, peeking over the top of their head and setting their hair alight and giving them their own halo. You'd never seen a prettier sight until now, basking in the vulnerable glimmer of their irises despite the crack in the strong walls around their heart.

"You were my reminder, Y/N," they said quietly as their cheeks flushed like the underside of the clouds above. "You kept me from getting too heated. From burning up everything around me and crashing senselessly for the sake of victory. You...are my ocean, in which I see that what I do and who I am right now is enough no matter the outcome."

Your heart was going to give out from how fast it was beating, and you quickly blinked away the mist in your eyes. It was the sweetest and most passionate thing you'd ever heard from anyone. Ever.

"Whoa, Y/N, a-are you alright?" Haruka asked worriedly as they stepped in closer to you. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing..." you exhaled sharply, releasing all the anxiety and anticipation that had built up over the week. "I just...wow, um–I don't know what to say..."

Their face fell a little as their grip on your hands loosened. "You don't have to say anything at all. I just...I hoped you felt just as intensely about me, but I know it's too soon and–"

"I was waiting for you," you interjected, embarrassed and a little angry at yourself for how pathetic you sounded. "I never wait for anyone, Haruka, but you...you had me walking around everywhere wondering if you just didn't like me anymore."

Their lips parted in surprise as they stared at you.

"I usually just move on the second I feel like someone doesn't want me," you sighed as you clutched their hands, relishing how nimble thier fingers were. "That's what it means to be a secure person, right? But I've also never liked anyone the way I've liked you."

Their awe slowly turned into a bashful lopsided grin. "Someone as sensible as you likes someone as reckless as me?"

"Next time you ignore me like that, I'd rather you be dead than ghosting me."

"Whoa, okay, um–" they snorted in amusement. "You know what? Yeah. I get it. I'd hate to be ghosted by someone like you too."

Why the fuck did I deflect like that? you scolded yourself. It sounded so needy.

"I'm not all that great, though," you muttered with eyes downcast. "I mean, I like myself plenty as I am, but you...you're a professional racer. Practically a celebrity. I've just got a little writing thing on the side that keeps me comfortable, but nothing major."

You held your breath as Haruka placed your palm over their heart. Their hand slid down the back of yours to your elbow and up to your shoulder with a soft grip, their knuckles trailing up your neck. Their touch carried with it the feathery blooms of pleasure that spread over your skin, and your heart stumbled when they gently held your chin to lift your face. Your skin buzzed with a vehement need to be closer to them, and your fingers clenched around the fabric of their shirt as you felt their heart speed up behind it.

"You've got a grounded personality, Y/N," they whispered with a tentative swipe of their thumb under your lip, and their face felt so much closer than before. "Passionate and self-reliant without needing anyone's approval for it. If anything, I'd love for you to make it big in your career, but you seem perfectly content and grateful with what you have, and I admire it."

They searched your eyes so deeply that you're left stumbling over your tongue. "I–I, um, well, I have more than enough to get by so...you know, I don't–um–"

"Y/N."

"Y–yes?"

They paused, looking down your face until you felt your lips tingle.

"I wish I could tell you how much I missed you," they murmured with a hint of something akin to need.

Desire. Maybe some restraint. It was in the way their palm cupped your jaw as their thumb stroked your cheek, eyes still on your mouth as they let out a soft, shuddering exhale.

You were barely breathing.

"I missed everything about you," they continued huskily, their eyelids growing heavy with a flutter of their lashes as their gaze darkened. "And I'll be such a goner if I give into how much I like you, because there will be so much more to miss whenever I'm away. But I need you to like me back just as much because this is scary."

Their other hand was still wrapped in yours at their sternum, and you guided it forward to your chest right over your heart. Pressing their palm over it, you shuddered at the warmth that seeped through your shirt and over your skin.

Your heart was practically bursting at the seams, and you looked at them from under your lashes defenselessly, surrendering to your undeniable feelings for them despite the need for caution.

"I think..." you started breathlessly, "I've been waiting for you for much longer than those two weeks. Don't make me wait anymore."

You gulped as you stared into their eyes, your next word sounding barely above a sigh.

"Please."

Haruka's lips fell upon yours so fast that you gasped in surprise, followed by soft moans that erupted into each other's mouths. Their deep grunt rumbled in their chest under your palms as they pulled you in close, their arm clamping around the small of your back. Encased in the warmth of their body, you mewled at the way they cradled the back of your head to kiss you languidly.

You were melting into them, feeling the heat from your bodies intertwining as you gripped onto their shoulders for dear life. Their soft chest pressed against yours with desperation, leaving no room for air between you two as they caged you against the bike. Wrapped in their strong arms, you felt small and safe, left at the mercy of Haruka's unrestrained longing that you doubted there was an escape from.

But you didn't want to anyway.

"Fuck..." they huffed as their lips slid off yours, and you were finally able to gasp for breath. Their hands rested on your waist and back, fingers digging enough to keep you from floating away. Even so, you were lightheaded and almost dizzy, taken back by how passionately Haruka had consumed you within those few seconds.

You wanted them to go on forever.

Tugging at their shoulder, you cradled the nape of their neck and pressed your lips to theirs tenderly, eliciting a soft exhale as you moved to the corner of their mouth to kiss it lightly. You found their cheek, peppering it slowly and gently with all the affection and want that blossomed within you for their existence.

Haruka groaned softly and collected you in their arms, pulling you into a hug as they buried their nose behind your ear. They pecked the sensitive spot under your lobe, making you shudder breathlessly in their firm yet gentle grip. The relief and pleasure of feeling their hand rubbing up and down your spine was indescribable, and you gave into the urge of running your fingers into their soft and wavy hair, scratching their scalp softly with your nails.

They purred, still heaving as they tried to pull themself together in the comfort of your arms.

"This is better than I imagined," they admitted against your skin.

You stilled, wondering if you heard it right. "You were thinking about this?"

"A lot..."

They sounded genuinely embarrassed, and it made you feel giddy and mischievous.

"Didn't know I had such an effect on you," you teased.

They gently pulled away from your shoulder to look down at you with warning, but there was a glint of something playful in their eyes.

"Don't say it like I don't make you feel things either," they said. "You literally got angry when I didn't reach out to you."

"You left me hanging!" you scoffed as the pent-up annoyance crept in through your fingers that dug into their biceps. "Who the hell does that for two weeks, Haruka?!"

They smirked, brows furrowing as a shadow fell over their face that made evident a sinister flame in their pupils.

"You missed me that much, huh?"

You smacked them up the back of their head reflexively, causing them to laugh in surprise. Embarrassed and meek, you felt cornered by their statement, but it was too late to escape the confrontation.

"I did..." you grumbled, looking away from their teasing stare before they leaned in to peck your jaw and down your neck. They chuckled as they did so, unaware of how each kiss triggered an intense bloom of desire in your chest. You were hyperaware of their hands on your ribs, and how the tips of their thumbs rested just under your breasts as your chest flooded with something stronger than bliss.

Arousal.

Haruka's breath brushed down your cleavage as they left a lingering kiss on your collarbone, and your grip on their arms tightened.

"H-Haruka..." you gasped, and they stopped immediately to turn their head away, still leaning into you as one of their hands fell onto the bike to hold themself up.

They let out an agonized breath of restraint, groaning quietly as the palm on your rib slid down to your hip with a gentle pat. "I should take you home, Y/N."

"Already?" you said with a slight whine, wincing at how needy you sounded for a moment. Now that they were finally in front of you after so long, you didn't want to just let them get away.

Haruka cleared their throat and straightened up, looking at you with tenderness as they tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"It's been hard to stay away from you the past two weeks," they said. "I need to take you back while I'm still in control of myself."

You gave them a quizzical look. "In control of yourself? What would you even do to me out here in the open? We're just kissing."

They raised their brows dubiously as their eyelids lowered sensuously, scanning your face with a heavy gaze.

"Don't tempt me, sweetheart," they muttered with a slight raspiness to their voice. "I don't know what I'm capable of if I'm pushed to my limit."

Your lips parted in surprise at the sudden change in their demeanor, but you didn't want to stop. A part of you wanted to challenge them, nudge them to the edge to see what they meant.

But you snapped yourself out of it and nodded, clearing your throat bashfully as you straightened yourself out.

"My best friend is at my place right now," you reasoned with yourself. "I gotta get back before she wakes up and freaks out. My phone's still back there with no battery, so she might even call the police."

Haruka nodded and reached for their gloves to pull them on as you turned your gaze back to the sea. The sun was now shining in its full glory, its light bouncing off the foam and waves of the sea, turning its surface into a rippling mirror. Fluffy white clouds floated lazily against the bright blue sky.

I'm their ocean, you thought wistfully, and they're the sun.

Two things that complemented each other in ways that kept everything on the planet perfectly balanced, and you hoped that the two of you would do the same for each other.

⋅ ⛢ ⋅

─────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────────── A/n: Honestly, I think Haruka has it in them to fuck you on the beach in broad daylight if it ever came to that lmfao. I was wondering if I should just write it in, but I'm not in the mood for smut atm.

What if I make another one shot focusing on the smut that comes after they drop you home? I could do a prequel one shot of the meet cute as well 🤔 [update: I did it lol]

Eh, we'll see. I'm taking it slowly since it's been a while I wrote anything for leisure. Still very rusty. Hope y'all enjoyed, though. ~ Miki | Myca ✧ ─────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆────────────

OH MY GOD MY FIRST REAL POST ON TUMBLR JSDHFKKJASDHFAJKH HAPPY PRIDE MONTH TO MEEE I'VE CELEBRATED WITH A HARUKA TENOH ONESHOT HEHE ENJOY

[the-shy-artisan]

seeing as it's pride month, i'd like to share with you all my coming out story c:

i knew, even at a very young age, that i was different.

i was around seven years old when i decided i wasn't interested in sex. of course the adults around me thought it was cute or saw it as a joke: what seven year old says something like that? "you don't know that for sure," they'd tell me, or, "you'll change your mind when you're older."

well, i grew a little older, but my decision still remained; buried at the back of my mind, out of sight and quiet. by middle school, i watched as my peers fawned over movie stars far older than them; they would point them out in teen magazines and ask me things like, "isn't he so hot?" "god, i want do him so bad," and, "what about you? who would you fuck if you had the chance?" i'd never answer, because i didn't have the heart to tell them i didn't feel the same way as them. it was yet another way i didn't fit in with the crowd.

then high school came around.

my views on sex aside, i did have relationships. but it wasn't until my third that i started to heavily question my sexuality. it came about one day during a visit to his house, we were on the couch watching a movie. he started touching me in places i never wanted to be touched. i moved his hands away multiple times, told him no, even moved to another piece of furniture away from him. i sat through the rest of the movie with my legs firmly crossed and my arms wrapped around myself. i felt sick to my stomach, and later i confided in my mother about what happened.

what she said still shocks me to my core to this very day:

"well, you've been in the relationship almost a year, and he's a man. you need to give him something. he has needs you know."

i was appalled. i reminded her of my long standing views about sex, only to have her respond with, "still? i would've hoped you'd outgrown this by now."

it broke my heart, but i broke hers the day i ended the relationship (she was certain we were going to get married and give her "beautiful" grandchildren).

i spent a very long time wondering if she was right. i started to think i was broken.

then came college… and the discovery of a magical word.

i found it on tumblr, hidden under the gif of a waving flag striped with purple, white, grey, and black. "asexuality." i was intrigued, i had never seen another flag besides the rainbow we all know. a quick google search brought up a definition on my computer screen… and tears in my eyes.

asexuality is the lack of sexual attraction to others, or low or absent interest in or desire for sexual activity.

all those years spent thinking there was something wrong with me, that i was the odd piece to a puzzle that didn't fit in, that i was a broken thing never to be fixed; everything suddenly made sense. that seven year old little girl who was ridiculed and shamed for even having the idea of never having sex, the teenager who cried alone in the bathroom as she vomited after her boyfriend made unwanted advances towards her; there was finally a word that described her.

asexuality.

it's been some time since i've taken on that label, it almost felt like being wrapped in a warm blanket. i finally felt comfortable in my own skin.

of course that's not to say there hasn't been some negative outcomes: my mother screamed and cried the day i came out to her (she still denies my sexuality to this day), and i've had complete strangers tell me i should be raped to be "fixed."

but despite that, i am proud to be ace. and unlike what some may think, i do very much wish to be in a relationship; just a queer platonic one, another thing i see many have mixed feelings on, much like the identity i use to describe myself. but the love i experience and wish to share is deep and true, just minus the sex. i only wish others would understand.

i am not broken, i never was.

i was just different.

and that is okay.

[bloodiedbeloveds]

Rotating BDTA-John in my head, and it's leading me to ask... why does he paint? And why paint, rather than write or sing or something else?

this is a really good question! it prompted a long conversation, but we didn't come to an agreement, so here are various perspectives.

"Having left the education system as a form of rebellion, it seemed obvious to him that he must pursue an artistic career of some nature. I think he is a painter because he has isolated himself from the world in trying to hide his inhuman nature, and it is easiest for him to pursue a career path where he is not required to make many public appearances and where he is expected to be somewhat skittish and eccentric. As a musical performer, he would have much more difficulty hiding his wings."

“honestly he probably could have been a writer and it wouldn’t have changed much, to tell you the truth the others are giving all these sensible watsonian explanations but i’m 95% sure it’s because we like describing fictional works of visual art���

“shut up it absolutely would have changed things, him being an artist adds to the epistolary form by contributing even more implied content— in the same way that there’s all these interpersonal interactions which must take place but aren’t written down, the descriptions without the presence of the actual images add to the sense that we as readers are not getting the full story. this is especially blatant in we never really learn, with that image description”

“my take is that he has to be some sort of creative for this story to work, because so much of it is about perception & a lot of his Issues are about how he makes so much goddamn money by drawing his deepest traumas and people eat it up. but actually we started thinking about this because of the trends in modern poetry publishing. so that could’ve worked. so i think it’s mostly for the epistolary stuff”

“he could not be a singer because part of his tragic backstory is having loved to sing as a child but having that joy taken from him because he didn’t sound human enough. the simple childhood pleasure of singing a duet with yourself strangled by shame and self-hatred and despair”

“there's also a historical explanation for this— BDTA (the first fic, not the series as a whole) was written as a reaction to some AUs we had with a friend & to the subsequent acrimonious parting we had with them. it's actually kind of spiteful; we wanted to write something better and more interesting than they ever could have come up with. we've moved beyond that in writing the rest of the series, but john was a painter in the AUs with which BDTA is in conversation, so he's a painter now."

"okay this has no precedent, i'm just making this up, but it's super convincing + sad + creation is about constant reinterpretation, so bear with me. john, as a child, was very sad and fucked up and coped with his alienation from his peers + from childhood as a whole via a) reading too much and b) drawing too much. so by the time he's a teenager he's already fallen into the pattern he exhibits as an adult of drawing tortured eldritch characters as a form of emotional self-harm, and when he drops out of college + loses access to his previous viable career path art is both his only other major skill + something he can't stop doing even if he tries."

"honestly, this is making me interested in a take on BDTAverse where john is a fiction writer and alex is a freelance artist. (hey, you know what would be super fucked up? if The Photo hadn't been released, and alex drew for magazines and people kept asking him to draw john's suicide attempt)"

"anyway! i think he paints as a compulsive thing, because he has so few emotional outlets, and doing art about it has been pretty much the only way for him to manage his feelings for a lot of his life. (he learned, as a child, that there are correct emotions to have and if you don't have the right ones people will be mad at you, so talking about it has been out of the picture for a long time.) and once he doesn't have other career plans, well, he's going to be painting fucked up stuff anyway, might as well sell it"

[miracleweaponhunt]

Miracle Weapon Hunt Chapter 56: She's Here, Guys

"Hey Cheng, you ready?"

Cheng, aged ten years old, was ready to help the guys out. There was a spelling test on today, and several of the bigger guys forgot to study for it. Not an issue. They gave him all the cakes he could eat, making him nauseous. And when the teacher walked into the classroom, he transferred the feeling onto her.

"So, did everyone have a good break?" She asked, as pleasant as ever. As she took the papers out from her desk, her demeanour faded. She put a hand to her chest, looking to her class. She retched a little, before walking out of the room. The noise of vomit hitting the floor was soon heard, and everyone tried not to cheer. The principal peered his head in to what seemed like a bunch of behaving students.

"Well, it seems your teacher needs some time off, so I'll take over. What were you planning on doing?"

"I think it was long division." Cheng said with confidence.

"So what's with the tests on the desk?"

"That's tomorrow."

The class agreed with him, and the principal put the tests away and began writing about long division on the whiteboard.

When class ended, people cheered for the bigger boys.

"Hey, so now that I got you more time, you wanna study at my place?"

The bigger boys gave each other disinterested looks as they looked down at him.

"Yeah, we had plans to go to Zan's house, and his mom will only allow three other people. Sorry."

"Oh, it's fine. But what about the luxa you borrowed from me? My mom's gonna get mad if you don't give it back soon."

"Don't worry, I'll have it next week."

"You said that last week!"

The boys walked away, leaving Cheng dejected once again. As he walked through the streets, he heard a voice whisper.

"Such a shame."

He looked at the houses surrounding him. The street was empty, with most people around this time commuting either to or from their homes. But a figure was leaning against a wall, draped in the shadows of the setting sun.

"To see a promising young man be taken advantage off. It weakens my heart, truly."

Cheng looked around for a trusted adult. And when none were around him, he just ran back to his house.

The man's voice kept reaching out to him as he went to school that day. Everything felt so rotten to him. The boys were joking about something, he didn't know what, and he had a disturbing hunch it was to do with him. But he pushed that thought to his sides as he did his spelling test. He knew it all, naturally.

But just as he was about to hand his test in, he saw some airships from the window. It landed in front of a neighbourhood, and two people approached the school as the screaming began to ring out from the few people left in their houses. Panic began to erupt as Cheng sat, perfectly behaved as always. His teacher tried to get him out of his seat among several other attempts to control the situation, but he didn't feel the need to move. He felt he'd be safe.

Eventually, the two men burst into the classroom. The first one shot a chain forward, hitting his teacher directly in the head. She looked around the room in a trance, before grabbing a pair of scissors and throwing them at the kid next to Cheng in the neck. She tore it out, leaving the child bleeding. But the only thing that compelled Cheng to move was seeing one of the bigger boys make a run for it. How cowardly. He stepped outside. He looked on in fear. Cheng decided to bash his leg against the doorframe and transfer the pain to him, making him trip. His assistant silently left the room, the smell of chemicals radiating off him as he shot a green blast at the bully, who fell dead instantly. With nothing else to do, he got the Luxa he was owed from his pockets. He had about five times more than he needed on him. Cheng took all of it, not like he'd need it.

"Cheng, my boy. I don't think you'll need them for a while."

Cheng turned around to the voice. The one from yesterday. It belonged to a tall, thin man with light brown skin.

"Doesn't this world seem messed up to you? A world where the strong can pick on the weak, which continues until someone like me is made to speak up? But if you want it to change, you can come with me."

And he did. The housing ship was taken and flown off before the authorities could even react, until it was a speck in the distance of the other grands. The man's name was Chelic, and the other was his assistant, Marcus. He ended up in what would be the greatest thing to happen to the skies. Chelic promised to unite the people of the skies. The people who abandoned the world below to escape their punishment, and it was up to them to ensure they received it. He brought others in for what he dubbed as 'salvation' and trained them for missions. The training was rough, and he had scars to prove it, but all of it was worth it. And at the end, he would fall back and witness the sky. The first dawn on a grateful world. He practised falling back, and woke up back on the airship.

"Good nap, Cheng?" Serafina asked, nodding off herself.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Cheng nodded. "How's the girl?"

"Raining pretty bad, so we let her back in." Daciana pointed to a sleeping Cassandra, still tied up.

"Excellent!" Cheng yelled to roaring cheers afterwards. "I'll do my best to ensure everyone gets promoted afterwards!"

Back on the cluster, Xander sat at his desk, trying his best to wile away the hours. In front of him was his monitor, which had a ROM of Arctic Primates 3 on it. 2 was really good and this was basically more of the same. So why wasn't he enjoying it? Probably because the console this was meant to play on back on the main ships was the same one Marcel had, and he had a hard enough time enjoying things that didn't remind him of his successful murder. He took a second to turn off his monitor, and just watch his reflection. His eyes were crusty, his hair greasy. His severely unwashed hoodie and necktie combo didn't look like it had any appeal, and the stink lines were almost visible. He looked around his room. His bed was dirtier then it usually was, and the bowls of noodles and cereal that Priyanka would bring around while Tsuki was busy were quickly piling up. He had left them just underneath the propaganda poster he was required to have installed in his room last week. It depicted caricatures of people from the Grands holding rusted weapons against scared children, who were running into the arms of Chelic. Or a shadowy figure that was labelled Chelic. The only other text was 'let all abandoned find new life! Save others and join your local raid!'

He really hated looking at that thing.

He took a reluctant sigh and turned the monitor on again. One new message from Manuel. Tenth ranked, most important computer guy in the Cluster. And somehow, Xander was his apprentice.

'Hey, You Wanna Play 40 Feet Remain?'

'Sure, got nothing else on.'

They loaded up the game. And despite what went down, playing a game about cyborgs blazing through an underground facility while mercilessly gunning down everything in sight somehow felt more relaxing than a 3D platformer about a monkey beating up a dastardly scientist.

'You See The Fightston Updates?' Manuel asked.

'Nah I've been busy' Xander lied.

'K. Well, I Heard They Got The Red Haired Girl In Fightston'

Xander's character turned around and shot Manuel's in the head, accidentally ending a good run. The girl was here? Okay, play this cool.

'Oh her? What makes her so special?'

'IDK. Think She Specifically Can Do Something. Only Heard From Guys Doing The Mission. She'll Be Here In Like An Hour I Think'

'Damn. Well, I gotta go. TTYL'

Xander turned off his PC, grabbed his empty bowls and left for the halls. Time to see what he could learn from this lady.

[fillejondrette]

not to whine in your ask box about it but i had a few years of persistant (though relatively mild) sexual harrassment from male peers in middle school and it really messed me up, but what made it especially bad was that 1) i was embarrassed to tell anyone because even repeating the things they said was shameful to me (in retrospect it makes me so angry how easy it was for these boys to say what they wanted to do to me and yet talking about it still makes me feel vulnerable), and i was afraid of making it worse or just different, since i had adjusted to the way things were. it bugs me that kids are being taught to report things but the genuine concerns that stop them from doing so aren’t being addressed. but more significantly and relevant to your post 2) i didn’t even think of it as sexual harrassment until i was an adult and was like. if a peer said that stuff to me right now it would absolutely be sexual harrassment, not really bullying as i had thought of it, and certainly not “teasing because they have a crush on you” as more than one person said it was. it’s really frustrating that people are so hesitant to frame it as it is, because the effect is the same no matter the ages. i spent years thinking “why am i still so effected by teasing” when if i framed it as sexual harrassment, which it textbook definition was, the way i was effected would be almost expected, and i would have some point of reference for healing from it.

yes please talk about it <3 love a little consciousness raising session

yeah when i was bullied as a kid (called fat and ugly which ended in an eating disorder lol) i didn't really tell adults, at least not the details, because i was embarrassed, and i'm sure i'd be even less likely to talk about sexual harassment. plus sometimes at that age something will make you uncomfortable but you can't really articulate what exactly is wrong with it because you're still so ignorant.

people are so ready to dismiss it as childish misbehavior, no big deal, that they don't consider that the victims as well as the perpetrators are children. but i remember feeling so disgusted with my body as early as fourth grade.

[frecklenog]

rewatching tas yesteryear for the second time today to pull some of the stuff that Stuck Out To Me

"i regret you were witness to that unfortunate display of emotion on the part of my son"

sarek this is why people say you're a bad father. he's being mercilessly bullied by the other kids and chastised for being upset by it? HES SEVEN.

"is something wrong, [sarek]?" "no no. it was only that... it seemed i know you."

yeah. you do. that's your son age 35 lmao (and spock brushing it off as looking like a shared ancestor he's so. i'm biting himgn,)

why do the adults wear full clothes and the kids wear speedos and seatbelts. what's happening on this planet

"once on the path you choose, you cannot turn back"

actually-

"it is difficult for a father to bear less than perfection in his son"

babygirl you have so many problems. what edition of the dsm are we on in 2269 or whatever the hell because i think you need to look through it

still so insane that vulcans do the kahs-wan at all tbh. like yeah sure it keeps them connected to their roots but these are prepubescent boys and you're just leaving them alone in the wilderness for over a week with zero supplies. how is that not institutional child neglect.

"to fail once is not a disgrace -- for others. if you fail, there will be those who will call you a coward all your life."

but like. no pressure or anything. single digit age baby child boy.

"i do not expect you to fail." "what if i do, father?" "there is no need to ask that question. you will not disappoint me. not if your heart and spirit are vulcan."

this fucking. exchange. it's so short. combined, it's all of six sentences. but even the first time i watched it i could pick up on the two distinct interpretations by both sarek and spock.

sarek seems to think that this is a comfort. an affirmation. he believes in his son. he has complete faith in his abilities. there's no doubt in his mind that spock will succeed. it's the logical conclusion.

spock however. spock has anxiety borne of his status as a mixed, neurodivergent child and his actual life experiences. he's so used to people thinking less of him. used to not being good enough. not being vulcan enough. he's been bullied by his peers his whole life, and earlier in the episode the other vulcan boys openly insult his mother by saying that sarek brought shame to vulcan by marrying her. he knows how people think of him, and he's reaching for reassurance that it's okay if he, like many other vulcan children, needs to undergo the kahs-wan again. just telling him that he will succeed, and leaving no other option, only puts further pressure on him and increases his anxiety, as is evicenced by him immediately going to i-chaya to vent and seek comfort. no wonder he runs away all the time, fucks sake.

in other news, i still hate this fucking fountain. we're on a desert planet where the only oceans are of lava. what the fuck are you doing, sarek? this thing is a massive waste of resources for absolutely no good fucking reason! where is your precious "logic" now, you green blooded cunt?

"of course. i should have remembered. it wasn't the actual kahs-wan ordeal."

bold for emphasis, and. i. how fucking spotty is spock's memory of his childhood??????

"you don't think he'd harm spock?" "i don't know, amanda."

[anguished groan as i think too hard about time travel implications]

..when spock does the nerve pinch to that big green bastard its fucking head vanishes for a few frames SDJFJSD

"do you think i'll ever be able to do that neck pinch as well as you?" "i dare say you will."

"...you are worried about the kahs-wan ordeal." "i had to see if i could do it. a personal test. i cannot fail." "that is your father's wish?" "yes, and my mother's. they... they confuse me. father wants me to do things his way, and mother says i should. but then she goes-" "she is a human woman, with strong emotion and sensitivities. she embarrasses you with those traits, and you are afraid when you see them in yourself."

spock really took "reparent yourself" literally with that whole speech about the reality of vulcan emotion huh

also. who did baby spock prank that one time lmao i bet sybok played a part in it

the zoom on amanda when baby spock says he chose vulcan.

and then he goes off to get in another fight after announcing his intentions to both of his parents and his alleged cousin. none of them stop him. vulcan is such a mess of a planet

"one small thing was changed this time. a pet died." "a pet? well that wouldn't mean much, in the course of time." "it might to some."

post over thank you for listening.

[the-curated-woman]

I can't help but consider our modern relationship with social media and digital content as one of the keystone elements in the surge of identities that people (especially young people) are having. I was lucky. I remember what life was like before computers and phones became everyday objects. And even when they started to become the norm, my family still took a while to join the boom. We didn't have a lot of extra money to throw around for things that weren't yet necessary.

Sometimes I tell people, "I can't imagin being a kid or a teenager now." I can't imagine having to curate an internet image, aesthetisizing every moment of my life for clout. The smoke and mirrors of it all, how exhausting.

And then the porn. Always just a click away, even on mainstream social networks and sites. Children seeing oversexualized people, becoming desensitized to what used to be in the centerfold of dirty magazines, all which now pops up on their daily feed. Influencers advertising makeup, clothes, sex toys, substances. Through the screen they act like your friend, through the screen kids don't see the paycheck, the script.

Their brains are still developing, for crying out loud, and we're allowing them access to a world we adults aren't even able to handle! And then these things are telling kids to define themselves, quickly now, so the algorithm can give them what they like.

So of course children and teens are getting wrapped up in the Barnum effect of it all. They're inherently curious - I know I was. But before, you'd look things up in books, or ask a friend or family member. There was a physicality to it all. If you wanted to look up something naughty, perhaps, and you were too ashamed to ask someone you knew, well then you'd better be willing to brave the library, the looks of the librarian if you needed help. Shame could be a factor in keeping some people from going too deep, too far into something that's hard to come back from.

But those physical checks and balances - asking someone, going to a place of knowledge - helped us keep each other accountable, and look out for each other if something was up, have conversations if something was wrong or uncomfortable. There was a collective, in a sense. Now, the collective is the world wide web, and it fits right in the palm of your hand. Now, you have kids seeing posts from their favorite celebrities, their favorite bloggers, their peers talking about identity, kinks, politics, anatomy, language, the whole package. Now, you have kids reading tweets (or Xs or whatever nonsense it's called now) telling them if they feel something then they ~are~ something. Now, you have kids barely in their teens coming out with pronouns and wanted surgeries to their parents with no warning, the children having done all their identity homework via the internet.

I helped a customer at my job one day who didn't want anything, didn't need to use our services. He just wanted to come in and update his name on his store account. "I'm really excited," he explained to me, playing with the string of his hoodie, his light scruff of a beard a little bed-heady. "I've thought really hard about what I want my name to be, since I'm nonbionary, and I've finally got it." He told me his new name (still masculine, but referencing a favorite author of his) and then rattled off his list of all the other places he had to go and change it. He was seventeen, maybe eighteen, and couldn't wait to legally change his name on his learner's permit. He seemed sweet, albeit a little weird, and I could tell he was waiting for a reaction, a congratulations or an offended look. Any attention to affirm his choice. Sorry, his "truth."

Kids are creative. They create stories with toys, ideas, inanimate objects. When the home computer came along, kids created avatars. Naming them is fun, important - especially if someone other than you is going to see them. One word or short phrase is supposed to encapsulate who you are. (I laugh at how long it took me to come up with my first Tumblr username.) But then the digital became too personal, the lines blurred, and suddenly there's clout in naming yourself.

But in embracing their "true selves," their "authenticity," kids today are disassociated from themselves more than ever before. Outside of who technology tells them they are, what else do they have? If the internet stopped telling them who they were, what could they become?

I'm thankful that I grew up without the internet holding my hand. I was a very nonconforming girl: cargo shorts were my uniform, I refused to wear makeup or shave, I liked collecting bugs and playing in the dirt. If I had grown up today, I'd have changed my pronouns at least, if not opted into a full transition. But instead of spending my teenage years watching short videos on qu**r theory takes and how 2+2 can equal 5, (shoutout to Foucault, the enemy of logical thought) I spent my time playing with friends, creating things with too much paint and glitter, reading any book I could get my hands on. And the thing I love is that nearly every hobby that was important to me as a child is still important to me in my adulthood, is a healthy escape from the mundanity of work and obligations.

But what if what was important to me as a child was intangible? What if it was my identity? Like I said earlier about curating the perfect internet profile, this is simultaneously too much pressure for young folks AND it's far too narcissistic. Stop looking in the black mirror of a phone screen and start looking for the things that make you genuinely happy and curious. You'll be healthier for it.

[v01d3nt1ty]

this autism discovery thing is really bonkers. i have had a *notoriously* poor memory. i've only been able to recall lil snatches of my childhood for most of my adult life.

so now that i'm thinking on my life & ways i have historically experienced neurodivergent traits, my brain is learning how to remember. (it was only a couple of yrs ago when i learned this meant trauma.)

the point is.

i now have these absolute random memories of a time when i was very much being autistic &, ofc, the shame i was caused to feel bc i was an undiagnosed autistic child & i was doing smth i "shouldn't."

for example.

when i was abt 10 yrs old, close to the end of 5th grade, we had a Major Assignment that counted for like ½ of our grade. (like really? wtf. we're children.) anyway we had to do a report about a state that we chose.

i (inwardly) panicked bc i had No Fkn Clue what i was supposed to do. by that time i was already extremely timid & intimidated by authority, so i felt too scared to ask an Adult (also, it would mean i was stupid for not being able to figure out how to do something everyone else seemed to know how to do, & i was Gifted.) i don't remember much of that 2 wks, but i do remember anxiety & lying (i NEVER lied - i still don't - & it felt bad) to both my guardians (my mom, my grandparents)& my teacher abt how i was coming along on the report.

(idk why i didn't ask my bff for help, i'm going to guess it's bc i was always second to her & i didn't want to look stupid.)

anyway, time came to hand it in & i didn't. i was panicking so much like holy shit this is bad i'm going to get yelled at i'm not going to pass & i won't graduate w my friends & peers. i had a tummy ache all day & everything felt hazy. dissociation i suppose.

so after we get home, i'm playing w probably barbies idk but i'm playing on the floor, absolutely panicking, when my grandma gets a call from my teacher ofc. she comes & asks me what happened to the report & i was like "my teacher must have lost it." my grandma already knows i'm full of shit, but ig she decided to humor me, & says she'll call her back & ask her to look for it. & she was like you better hope she finds it. so she calls the teacher, recounting what i had said & ofc she doesn't have it. my grandma busts in & starts *screaming* at me. i start sobbing like i'm sorry i'm sorry. all i really remember was her saying "'SHE LOST IT, MY FOOT!" which even in my current emotional state i thought was weird. she repeated it like she was so furious she couldn't think of other words.

eventually she stormed out (probably yelling something like "what am i going to do with you?" & i sobbed for what felt like hrs (& might have been for all i know. i feel like i missed dinner idk.)

anyway, she actually does come & apologize at some point, probably hugs me & tells me she loves me, & says she'll try to figure it out, SIGH.

so, it got figured out, i graduated with my friends & peers. i had to do the report over the summer, & my grandma made me do an extra one for punishment.

IT. WAS. UNBEARABLY. BORING. but i got through it ok.

holy crap, did i just heal my trauma? maybe this will stop the nightmares i have abt not doing the work, not passing, & not being able to graduate (except in my dreams it's hs which is a Much Bigger Deal. sometimes i'm failing out of college instead of just dropping out like i did.)

just now recognising my grandma's inability to regulate her emotions.

🙃🙃🙃

[birdantlers]

10 for the ask game

10. The Dragon Ball series isn’t exactly known for being consistent with its story, its characters, and various other things. Which inconsistency irritates you the most?

Omg . This question.

Okay, there are a hundred million things I would change abt dragon ball if I could, but the thing that pisses me off the most is definitely inconsistency with Gohan's characterization. Namely,

[deep breath]

Gohan should have stayed/become the main character after Cell Saga what the hell.

I'm really tired rn so I can't elaborate as much as I want to but holy shit Buu saga really dropped the ball on this and it's one of the reasons I don't like that arc much. For a while before I knew what the arc was actually about, I got duped into thinking it would be largely Gohan-centric. Focusing on his relationship with humanity and his peers when he attends school / his old trauma/fears/idk.. anything negative or introspective?? Resurfacing when his dad comes back and shit inevitably hits the fan again.

(mandatory "thank for for existing, the Red Boy fic" statement. Look it up it's great I got derailed while reading the last chapter and I feel bad abt not getting back to it yet h)

But instead..... No? Gohan frustratingly gets yanked off center stage halfway through Buu saga, thanks to Toriyama's unfortunate authorship situation at the time. And after that he just....... Stays there. In the wings of Goku and Vegeta's story instead of taking the mantle of MC. It's really disappointing to me, and it's one of the reasons I still haven't watched Super lmao.

Ik I talk about piccolo for 172783736 hours at a time but Gohan's character arc is really the one that carries Z for me up to Buu saga. I consider Cell saga to be an infinitely superior end to his character arc, and I think the way it sticks the landing there is another reason why Buu saga gets on my nerves so much.

I've talked abt this with friends, but current Gohan also feels largely void of the gamut of emotions he was shown to have while younger, and that bugs the hell out of me. Obviously he's matured, but the fear and insecurity and loss he struggled with pre-buu arc feels strangely muted. Like he isn't allowed to cry now that he's an adult or something (though Goku got hit with this same problem, sigh). This doesn't help his already bad sidelining.

In Buu saga and Super, his repeated cycle of "BAMF fight where he comes out on top as strongest Z fighter→ peacetime→ complacency and domestic life→ uh oh he's weak now→ gets admonished for it and wins the day again" could be SUCH a good foundation for a compelling character arc, but they just. Don't do it! So it comes off as redundant and uncharacteristically negligent on Gohan's part. For as much as I love it, Super Hero drops the ball with this too.

I'm just gonna port my messages from discord and let y'all glean the gist

Basically Gohan feels kinda McGuffin-ized at this point and it makes me sad. He literally had a CELL clone in front of him and had no visible reaction or even an acknowledgement. He's verbally passionate about things like the saiyaman gig or entomology or his family, but the plot and writing don't allow him to actually struggle with the obligation his power gives him.

Like. He might on the surface, sure, but ultimately he just rolls over whenever someone goads him into fighting again (I have seen that part(s) of super don't @ me). I just can't help but see wasted potential and a character with somewhat weak writing. It really is like they just don't know what to do with him now. And that's a real shame because he still is my 1st/2nd favorite character and I am still interested in his arc. Way more so than Goku or Vegeta's. I just wish they would DO something with it 😭

Anyway. Can you believe this isn't even all my thoughts on the matter hdhdhdkdjdj

[ailendolin]

Title: The Egg Hunt [AO3]

Fandom: Yonderland

Characters: Ho-Tan, Vex, the Youngers

A/N: I wrote this short, fluffly Easter ficlet as a little thank you to all you wonderful people who've supported me these last few months. I am so grateful for that! Happy Easter, everyone and happy Sunday to all who don't celebrate!

Summary: Ho-Tan introduces the Easter Egg Hunt to Yonderland and shares a sweet moment with Vex.

The Egg Hunt

“Ho-Tan! There you are.”

Ho-Tan looked up from the report she was writing to find Vex climbing up onto the seat next to her that Choop normally occupied. There was a faint pillow crease on his cheek and despite the exertion his eyes still had that sleepy softness about them that never failed to make Ho-Tan’s heart tighten with fondness.

“Do you have any idea why the Youngers are running through the hallways as if Chompus was after them?” Vex asked around a yawn once he was seated comfortably.

The fondness Ho-Tan felt mingled with guilt. It was her fault the Youngers were causing such a ruckus this early in the morning.

“They’re looking for eggs,” she said sheepishly.

Vex blinked at her.

“Eggs,” he repeated.

From somewhere down the hallway, a muffled shout reached their ears. “I got one!”

Ho-Tan chuckled to herself and put aside her quill and paper.

“It’s a tradition from Debbie’s world,” she explained. “Apparently, one of their gods, the Easter Bunny, lays chocolate eggs once a year when winter turns to spring and then gives them to the adult humans with orders to hide them in their houses and gardens. The children then set out on a quest to find as many of them as possible.”

“Really?” Vex asked, looking even more confused than before.

Ho-Tan nodded. “It’s what Debbie said. Here, I wrote it all down.”

She reached for the small notebook Debbie had given her back when they’d all sought shelter in her house and Ho-Tan had run out of paper to write on. It now contained all the things she’d recorded about Debbie’s world, including the traditions of Christmas and the Easter Egg Hunt. Ho-Tan leafed through the pages and handed the book to Vex once she’d found the right one. He peered down at her neatly written script for a moment before his lips pulled up in an amused smile when he saw the drawing underneath it.

“The Easter Bunny looks like Gerald?”

Ho-Tan felt her cheeks heat up. “Well, Debbie wasn’t very specific when she described it.”

“I see,” Vex said. “So Not-Gerald didn’t come here and bring you the eggs personally?”

“Sadly not,” Ho-Tan said with a shake of her head. She was still a little disappointed about that. “Debbie gave them to me. She said she and Bob Peter Peter had more than enough to hide this year.”

“Shame,” Vex mused. He pointed at something on the page. “This looks vaguely familiar.”

Ho-Tan leaned over to see what he meant. Then she laughed. “It should! It’s a map of this building. See those little X’s? I marked all the places where I hid the eggs.”

“Oh!” Vex said. “So it’s a treasure map!”

Ho-Tan nodded just as somewhere in the distance, another of their Youngers shouted, “I found a second one!”

“They sound like they’re having fun,” Vex said with a soft smile that made Ho-Tan’s heart miss a beat. He handed her back the notebook and then, turning on the charm, asked, “Any chance of there being a chocolate egg hidden somewhere for this old boy?”

Unable to hide her own smile, Ho-Tan reached into her pocket. Vex had always had a sweet tooth. “I saved this one just for you.”

Their fingers grazed each other on top of the blue wrapping.

“Thank you, my dear,” Vex said softly. His eyes fell close in pure bliss when he popped the small chocolate egg into his mouth, and Ho-Tan quietly thought to herself, Please let it always be this easy to make him happy.  

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Imagine # 835

Gif NOT mine.

If this gif is yours (or you know who's it is) please let me know, so I can give you/them credit.

Gif credit goes to - @maxhorrorgifs (Unless told otherwise.)

Year posted - 2021

----

"Thomas get yer ass over here!" Charlie yelled after having knocked the man with blue eyes unconscious. Tommy hurried to his older brothers side, looking down to the man before looking to Charlie. "Take this one up to the attic, he'll be a pet for (Y/n)." Charlie snickered as he thought about the excitement his daughter would feel upon receiving such a generous gift. Tommy nodded his head then picked up the man, tossing him onto his shoulder he carried him straight to the attic, where he chained him up by his wrists and ankles. All the while Charlie went to inform his daughter of the news. "(Y/n) darlin' come here a second." He called out as he knocked on her locked bedroom door, smiling to himself when she obeyed him hastily. "Yes daddy?" She tilted her head with curiosity, her big shining eyes like stars. "I've got a present for ya up in the attic." He chuckled when her eyes lit up with excitement, despite the fact that it was brief. "Come on, I wanna show you." He held his hand out to her, leading her straight to the attic when she took his hand. "Close your eyes sweetie." He ordered softly, leading her the rest of the way a bit slower so she wouldn't trip. "Now open your eyes." He chuckled when she gasped in surprise, turning her attention back to her father. "Go on go play with your new pet." He laughed giving her a gentle push, she nodded her head obediently, before slowly approaching the unconscious man. "I'll leave you kids be." Charlie hummed as he exited the attic, despite the fact that (Y/n) and the man were clearly adults.

Curiously she turned her attention back to the man, before scurrying off to fetch some water and a first aid. When she returned she was both relieved and worried that he was still unconscious. She wet a washcloth then began gently wiping away the blood and grime on his handsome face. He stirred awake before jolting upright with a gasp, starling (Y/n) who quickly scooted away from his reach. "Wha- where am I?" He stammered in a daze, his eyes landing on (Y/n), staring at her with confusion before realization swirled in his eyes. "You?" He frowned trying to remember where he'd seen her before. "You were out at the barn, before the sheriff ran you off." He moved his hand to hold the throbbing side of his head, only to grumble when the chain prevented him from being able to do so. "I wanted to help you, I want to help you." (Y/n) spoke softly, making the man still in his movements. "But I can't... Daddy he'd... He'd kill you, and he'd hurt me." She added nervously, softly biting her lip with fearful eyes. "Get me out of here, and I'll protect you." He tried offering, his frown deepening when she shook her head. "You don't understand... Daddy's lost it, and we're the only ones around for miles... He'd find us, he'd kill us both if I tried running away with you." (Y/n)'s eyes glazed over, scooting a little closer to the man. "This is the only way I can keep you safe, daddy knows you're up here, and I can't risk moving you." She whispered. "There must be someone else around here." He pulled at his chains in a vain attempt to break free. "There ain't, everyone's up and left. Even if we could hide from daddy and uncle Tommy, the elements would eventually kill us." (Y/n) frowned as she looked to the floor with shame in her eyes.

"My names Eric." He spoke softly, a smile ghosting his lips when she peered up at him. "I'm (Y/n)." She mirrored his faint smile, before grabbing the first aid kit. "We can... We can try escaping in time, but we have to wait until its safe, otherwise daddy will be expecting it." (Y/n) whispered as she went back to cleaning up Eric's wounds. "How long will that take?" Eric asked with dread. "I don't know." (Y/n) frowned with sad eyes, feeling sorry for Eric and his friends. "I need to save my brother." Eric stated making (Y/n) still in her work. "The blond?" She asked with worried eyes, pulling away from Eric when he nodded his head. "Uncle Tommy was taking him down into his basement when I was getting this." She pointed to the first aid kit. "Nothing but uncle Tommy comes outta there alive." She added in a quiet whisper, jumping when Eric began pulling on his retrains with all the strength he had left. "I'm sorry." (Y/n) whimpered softly before rushing out of the attic, leaving Eric to have some time to morn in peace. Hours went by, and when the sound of screaming erupted from below, Eric couldn't contain his anger. He screamed, he yelled, he beat the ground with his fists, his chains, anything he could get his hands on. All the while the Hewitt family listened from below, Charlie becoming more and more enraged by the minute. "(Y/n) go quiet that mutt of yours, or I'll do it myself!" Charlie barked at his daughter, who jumped before rushing up to the attic. "Eric please!" She called out over the ruckus he was making. "No those are my friends!" Eric yelled his face red and covered in sweat. "I know and I'm so sorry, but you're making daddy mad, you have to stop." She pleaded, squeaking in fright when he threw a lamp her way, which missed her by a foot or so.

"I don't give a damn about your father!" Eric hollered. "If you don't stop he's gonna kill you." (Y/n) tried to reason with him. "He's gonna kill me anyways!" Eric pulled at his chains again. "No he ain't, as long as you obey the rules, he won't kill you, I swear." (Y/n) approached him, stopping just out of his reach. "And what makes you so certain, huh?" Eric hissed through clenched teeth. "Because he doesn't like upsetting me, but if you push him over the edge, there's nothing I can do to stop him." She murmured softly, jumping when Eric rushed at her, the chains holding him back. It was only then that Eric took in her soft features, noticing just how easy she was on the eyes, especially compared to the rest of her family. Eric felt guilt flood into his heart, at the clear fear in her eyes, the jumpy-ness only confirming his subconscious suspicion. (Y/n) was just as much a prisoner here as he was, if not more so, having been stuck here far longer, without the chance of being put out of her misery. His lips parted to speak, but he was interrupted when Charlie barged into the room. "What did I tell-" He cut himself off with a laugh, taking in the sight before him. "Well well well, what do we have here?" He taunted his words causing a blush to bloom across (Y/n)'s cheeks, who stood frozen, her face only inches from Eric's. "I knew you two would get along just fine." Charlie snickered to himself before leaving the room once more. "Please Eric just do as I say, and I'll keep you safe." (Y/n) pleaded with him, smiling sadly when he nodded his head in agreement, giving up reluctantly for his and her sake, knowing deep down their was nothing else he could do for the others.

----

*I'm seriously tempted to write a short story series extending this even more. What do you think?

[naivesilver]

And perhaps a couple of facts about the court (minus Eugene ofc)? Just two or three for each of them? :^)

Hello my friend let's get this party started again :^)

Ask me 10 things about one of my characters

they swap clothes/leave stuff at each other's houses constantly, which produces some hilarious outfits both on accident and on purpose

speaking of which, Twinkle gets a lot of hand-me-downs from Grace since Grace is a) a lot taller, therefore outgrows stuff quickly b) a tad wealthier family-wise, so she'd have plenty to spare that's hardly been worn (and it doesn't count as charity if it happens between friends like that)

in later years, Leona has a picture of both her boys as her phone wallpaper. Marco is a little more old-fashioned and has pictures of her, the boys and Pinocchio as a child in his wallet. Archie has a family photo in a frame on his office desk and probably also a very old drawing kid Pinocchio made for him taped to the wall

Ava is knowledgeable all things mechanic thanks to her dad, but she also has a severe case of road rage so Nicholas is the designated driver for short distances when Eugene is not available

Pinocchio is completely clueless when it comes to people flirting with him, even though it doesn't happen that rarely - Twinkle had to make the first move, and Lampwick was just as blind so that's why it took them so long to get shit done

in general they all run an informal betting pool about who other people's crushes are, both their peers and local adults. Jury's still out on where Emma spends her nights, or whether Pinocchio is right about Archie having (or having had) a thing for someone

given the amount of second (or in some cases first) languages spoken in their homes, it shouldn't come as a surprise that most of these kids know at least a few words in each of them, when they don't openly curse one another with clumsy but very heathed sentences

prom is a very chaotic business in a close-knitted community whose only newcomers often don't know what a prom is but usually have fancy dresses that would put any of the locals to shame. Background music switches abruptly between pop and traditional EF dances. The competitivity level is sky high. The Court tends to go as a group because it's funnier and it doesn't put anyone in an awkward position, but they actively participate in the drama because why not

THAT BEING SAID, they do bring in their specific brand of chaos every now and then. For example, freshman year Lampwick definitely asked Daria to prom because he thought it'd piss Eugene off. She agreed because she didn't have a proper date and she ALSO thought it would be hysterical. Eugene still holds it against them years later

sometimes, during gatherings or family functions, Nova can still be persuaded to do storytime to keep the younger kids occupied. It knocks them out by the second page, usually, and by the fourth or fifth it knocks the the older ones out as well, because you're never too big to be lulled to sleep by Sister Astrid's tried and true bedtime routine

[harryswatermelonsegment]

Pool Party

Pairing: Reader/Harry Styles

Rating: R, text book smut

Word Count: 5k 😳

Warnings: Slight sub/dom tones I guess? & alcohol consumption

A/N: Sorry this is late, life somewhat resuming here in the UK so it means I’m back at my job. I managed to fall asleep mid edit folks 😳, this is my entry for the @helladirections Summer Feeling Fic Challenge, with the prompt “pool party” click the link for the masterlist. I’m still writing two more, one for @berrynarrybanana ‘s Sex Bucketlist Challenge but it’s turning out to be a 20k slow burn I wasn’t expecting 😬.Oops. But enjoy this one, I’m proud of her. My one other blatant thirst fic can be found here. Reblogs get free gratitude for the next 5 years 🍉💕

You'd been friends with Jeff since your teens, when his parents (despite their wealth), wanted him to get a job at the restaurant you worked at. In their rightful thinking, they wanted him to learn you had to work from the ground up.

Despite your clearly different class background you found a ton of common interests making the whole thing immaterial. He was a caring, down to earth guy and you were both people who really enjoyed sarcastically taunting each other every shift. You'd got used to visiting his house in the hills even though you'd been scared to get lost at first around his parents large house. Becoming solid friends quickly, you'd managed to keep in touch, as much as adult life would now allow anyway.

You knew his main role was managing a pop star but you'd not caught up in a minute and when you did, you kept your job chat out of the conversation where you could. This is why, as you barge through the kitchen, to the pool outside, you're shocked to nearly knock a stunned Harry Styles onto his behind.

"Fuck, shit I'm so sorry" you clutch your chest looking at the red wine on his tank top and his now empty glass. The soiled garment was tucked into some dressy shorts and partly covered by a loud hawaiian patterned shirt. Oh god what had you done?

You were quite honestly mortified. You'd never actually met the man himself, usually meeting Jeff at his for a few drinks or at a restaurant. You'd heard him mentioned in stories about travelling or how his campaigns were running Jeff into the ground with meetings. So, although you weren't a massive fan of his per se, in the way you didn't ask Jeff for updates or info, the way you'd hope you'd meet the attractive pop star was definitely not this.

He looked down at the offending stain then back up into your eyes, keeping his head angled down and blinking through his lashes. You couldn't read his blank expression and it put you on edge.

Maybe it was the heat trapped in the doorway, but as your eyes stayed locked you suddenly felt a fire spread from your navel up to your cheeks, and then from your center down to your toes. Your lower stomach clenched as you stared back at the guy covered in a good 2007 French rouge.

Fuck me he's pretty, you thought.

A rapid film reel of moments; sweaty bodies, those large biceps holding you against the nearest wall, smacking of lips against skin and moans of release flashed in your brain.

It had definitely been a while since you had got laid in your defense, your mood and pent up sexual frustration getting worse by the day as you tried and failed at the L. A. dating scene. Maybe you were picky, but horny and picky was an awful place to be.

However, the reality of the embarrassing scene you were currently a star of, flipped you back into the present.

Seemingly over the initial incident and hopefully not a mind reader to your thirsty brain, he takes you in and smirks.

Harry knew from the way your breathing hitched looking at his torso that you were at least a bit interested. He had clocked you the second you walked in through the big glass doors. A shirt of a band he liked and a natural beauty he wanted to spend some times with you he pondered. Ideally naked.

Zig zagging across the world promoting the album and had left little time to enjoy another person. Status and obligation to his job making it hard to just go out and meet someone. But here you were, dressed unlike anyone else, looking absolutely adorable in your embarrassment. You must be trustworthy if you're in Jeff's home,he wasn't a "bring your friends too" kind of host with his clients usually around.

This could be a fun evening for you both, he thought. Something unspoken, almost magnetic, drawing you both to one another. Surely that wasn't all his side right?

"I was told it was a good year, but I wasn't planning on consuming it quite this way?" inwardly he rolled his eyes at the barely there quip. But you laughed anyway.

"I am so, so awfully sorry, look, let's see if there's some dish liquid or something, possibly some of my next months rent in there too if I have to replace it" you let out a nervous laugh as you walked towards the kitchen. But in all honesty you weren't kidding.

Harry laughed at your sarcastic remark, impressed by your confidence in owning the situation and getting on with things. He casually watched your hips sway past a few people in to the open plan kitchen with as much subtlety as he could, you were confidentially locating all the parts needed to try and remove the offending stain.

"You seem to know your way around 'ere. I'm er…I'm Harry by the way" awkwardly waving as you mixed some solution in the sink drenching a sponge in it.

"Yeah" you smiled turning from the sink with the damp rag "known Jeff a good while, have definitely spilt red wine here before. I'm Y/N" you giggle. The beam from his own mouth matching.

"Ah! Y/N, of course, I've heard him mention you, didn't you once hide rotting mackerel in a unpleasant guys blazer?" he chuckled

"Heyyyy. Only after he spanked my ass getting him the check. Deserved a hot plate to the crotch too" you shot back.

You weren't sure where to go from here the thought of wetting down the white tank yourself definitely appealed but also seemed far too forward.

"Um…" you began gesturing with the sponge in your hand. You expected him to take it from you to sort himself out but..

"Oh yeah sorry" he replied shimmying his shirt off, dumping it on the back of a bar stool, then, crossing his arms across his stomach and lifting the tank top over his head you were slack jawed and frozen taking in the lean muscles and tattoos littered intermittently across his abdomen. He spread the top across the islands worktop flat, then grabbing the sponge with a simple "thanks" and knitting his eyebrows together in concentration as he tried to rid the dull red mark from it's center.

You still hadn't moved. A pink twinge to your cheeks as you watched his shoulder blades and back muscles scrubbing. Dirty thoughts circling your brain still.

"I would have helped you but I didn't want to start a wet tshirt contest in such a high end establishment yknow?" you thought out loud.

"Oh yeah, good call. I'm fiercely competitive Y/N so would probably be under that fancy waterfall thing by now showing off m'moves in my pants" he wiggles his hips trying to suggestively show you his "moves" but you can't help but smirk at just how endearing this man is. Dammit.

When he's finished with his shirt he drapes it over another barstool before handing you the sponge back.

If anyone asks him if he blatantly and deliberately got naked to gauge if you were into him he'd definitely deny it. But the truth is, he definitely did. Luckily for him, with the way you bite your lip and drag your eyes down his flesh as he brushes past your side to get back to the sink, he's right.

"Speaking of getting in the water in your" you use air quotes "'pants' I'm off to get out of mine" you declare, pushing yourself from the counter and keeping eye contact a second as you stroll back to the sliding doors leading to the pool.

"I… What??"

" The pool Harry?.... What did you think I meant?" you narrow your eyes and press your lips together before shutting the glass door again and turning once more to smirk at the opened mouthed man still by the sink.

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

You'd been schmoozing in the water for a few hours now. There were probably only 20 or so people still here and the 3rd frozen marg had got you buzzed. You were in the small hot tub type pool, attached at the top of the main one on a slightly higher level. You hadn't seen Harry for a while but the last few times you caught his eye he'd been surrounded by at least 3 other people fighting for his attention, so you banked your flirtations to soothe your own ego, grabbed another marg and tried to forget about how he had started a tornado inside you, yearning for his hands on your thighs and head peering up at you from where they met in the middle. The strong pull of lust was clearly in your head then. What a shame.

You put it to the back of your mind as you finished catching up with Glenne. Both flushed and giggly as usual, she was the perfect match for Jeff and their chemistry unmatchable. You always enjoyed hanging out with the both of them, if anything, they gave you hope your own match may be out there. She left you in the tub alone, as she went to grab herself another drink and check on her host duties boyfriend.

"Don't you find drinking whilst already in water the weirdest thing?" you look up to find Harry standing over your right shoulder as you sit with your back against the pool wall and your elbows propping you up behind you, drink in one hand. His eyes unsubtley slip down to where your breasts lay pushed together in your halter neck bikini. You definitely weren't imagining it then. Fucking fantastic, you think.

"I mean drowning yourself on the inside from the alcohol and being in more than 4 inches of water really adds a danger element to my life if I'm honest" you reply sipping your drink.

And there goes those dimples again.

He's just in a pair of yellow swimming shorts now which doesn't help the alcohol flush at all. Sitting by your right side, putting his short glass full of amber liquid and ice, on the side of the pool and sliding in to join you. He leaves a small gap, as to not appear a total letch but your smart mouth has him hooked.

Taking a sip of his drink with the water up to his collar bones he hums.

"I do feel incredibly dangerous now, you've got a point"

"I mean if you think that's danger" you edge closer, not drunk but buzzed enough to take your chances you whisper into the shell of his ear. "You should see what thrills are in the guest bathroom. 1st floor on the right? " he chokes on his drink as your suggestive whispers make his dick twitch. He definitely couldn't get out of the pool for a while.

You're gone before you get a verbal reaction. If this all goes badly then you can just hide in there and slip out to an Uber and never see Jeff again right? Right. Cool.

With a soft white towel around you and your heart rate high as you reach the main guest bedroom you enter the room, you notice a large weekend bag in there and freeze. Shit. Someone's staying over, you hadn't factored that in, but a glance to the tag and the embossed H. E. S tells you you're good. Well, if not you'll just be a creep hiding in someone's bathroom but let's not think about it too much. Your faux confidence was working well so far and what other chance was going to arise like this one? Hot celebrities need fun with strangers too right?

Entering the bathroom you rub the towel over you, leaving mostly dry skin. You'd peel away your bikini if you were definite you wouldn't need to peel it back up your limbs should this plan backfire. You move to the mirror to adjust the black flecks from your minimal makeup dispersing under your eye and just as you're about to smooth down the stray baby hairs that humidity has got to around your face, you see Harry appear in the mirror behind you. Your belly flipping over and over with the thrill he'd took the bait.

Wasting no time he smirks and holds your gaze, wrapping his hands around your waist whilst his lips attach to the junction of your neck and collarbone. His tongue drags over your soft skin and he licks and softly sucks swirls onto it with his plush lips.

"Hm. You're right. This is a more fun type of danger" he says between kisses but before he's even finished his sentence you've spun around in his arms.

The bottom of your spine cold against the marble countertop, arms around his neck as you smash your lips into one another's with urgency. Tongues and wet noises as you get to know one another through your bodies alone.

He runs his hands down your back and presses his hard length against your thigh. He's definitely packing you think as you lift up a little rub your pubic bone against his front, panting out a little moan as the sweet friction of your bodies colliding sends you into overdrive. Catching the noise through your parted lips he gently tugs on the bottom one, teeth grazing the supple flesh. This combined with his large palms kneading your ass and pulling you further, tighter, into the roll of his hips. Only two layers of damp clothing separate you,forcing your lips to break from his mouth and fully moan, not caring who may be around. You could not remember the last time a perfect stranger knew your body quite this well.

His own grunts were speeding up when he suddenly grabs the back of your thighs and hoists you up beside the sink, you gasp in shock but it was more the way the lean man thrusted you up there like it was nothing. What else could he do? You expect him to go back to kissing you but instead he pulls back with his rock hard erection outlined in the wet shorts he still has on. Looking at you dead in the eyes both raging with lust and concern. Whilst you try not to worry how you were going to accommodate him inside your tight walls.

"Is this…? I mean, you want this too right?" his hands are resting at either side of your parted thighs. You nod. "Need you to say it Y/N" he steps forward, lips wet and brushes the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip that was now puffy and pink from the earlier biting. He knew you were down to fuck, but now he wanted to test your preferences. What kind of fun you were about to have shall we say. So when you lick his thumb tip, holding his fist still and grazing your wet tongue up and down from knuckle to tip before closing your eyes and humming around the entire digit, he knew you were both in for a good time.

Removing the thumb he whispers a barely audible "fuck me" before smashing your lips back together, tongues massaging together as he peels your underwear to the side with his hand swiftly and presses digit you'd lubricated with your mouth against your clit, moving it fast from side to side with just the right amount of pressure to make your head spin. Gasping, you throw your head back, hands clasped around his neck as you lean back and feel yourself start to leak a little with arousal. The few spots dripping down on to the counter.

You could say it had been a while but really this guy was moving his way round your body in the same way you tune a guitar in key. Calloused fingers applying the right amount of pressure as you felt yourself start to get to the edge already. He was kissing down the front if your chest, between your breasts, not missing a beat when he pushed both triangles of your bikini aside and you moaned loudly as he kissed and sucked hard around your nipple, tentatively pulling it between his teeth firmly, the sound you let out made him clamp a little harder before sucking in the whole nipple again, soothing the skin his tongue. Most likely leaving a mark behind, but you kind of liked the idea of proof he'd been devouring you in all honesty.

You were becoming blissed out from all the stimulation. Clenching and moving your hips around nothing but this magical thumb working your clit up and down hard. You were overcome with this whole situation playing out the way it had. You broke away from his mouth again.

"Oh fuck.. Harry, I'm… FuckFuck I'm going to come, I'm gonna fucking… Ahhh" he pulled back one arm steadying you as your head hit the mirror behind you in your release. He just watched you and slowed his thumb down watching as the liquid cascaded onto the counter.

After you'd come down you open your eyes and shyly smiled before kissing him passionately, his hands moving around your waist tightly. You moved your hand to his shorts, teasingly grazing the outline of his cock between your fingers in hopes of repaying the favour. He does a single throaty laugh and removes your hand, holding himself against his thigh. You look at him in confusion when he splutters,

"Sorry, sorry its just I'm going t'blow my load if you touch me." then he's back on your lips "Too. Fucking. Sexy" he says between wet kisses to your jaw, neck and clavicle. "Wanted to do this since I first set eyes on you" one hand is on the back of his neck twisting nape curls between your fist whilst the other rests behind you, stopping you from hitting your head on the mirror again.

"Oh yeah? Before or after I ruined your clothes?" you laugh teasingly as he slides his hands around your back to finally remove the bikini top properly, lifting it up over your head and tossing it aside somewhere on the floor. He let's a laugh out himself completely entranced still by how natural you are around him, it was often hard to connect with strangers in his position.

"I'd spotted you walking in, was trying to open the door for you m'love" he says before sucking a red mark into your breast and massaging and pulling the other nipple slightly with his hand.

You struggle through sharp intakes of breath for a reply.

"Well….ah...that's what chivalry.. Oh.. Get's you these days I guess" and you're both laughing a little.

"Hmm. Have to try harder with my manners then won't I? I mean, I've got to clear up the mess I've made here" he cups his hand against your pussy rubbing it up and down a little with his palm. You let out a guttural noise at the friction. "Ladies first and all'tha too right?" he giggles again at himself.

You're practically cumming right then, you couldn't remember the last time someone actually went down on you. Your previous boyfriend not particularly into offering you foreplay. A main point of why he didn't stick around too long.

Harry kisses down your abdomen now, soft sloppy, sensual pecks, humming into your skin every so often in appreciation as he works at removing your soaked bikini bottoms with his hands, pushing them down to your knees before you help, letting them fall from the remaining ankle to the ground.

Harry is moving far too slow for you, kissing across each hip down to the top of your slit, breathing over where you desperately need him before paying the other side the same attention. Then he's licking up each crease where your thigh meets your pelvis.

"Y/N, just.. Just turn, that's it and lean back as far as you can there, shuffle forward until can't balance anymore" you shift your ass as forward as possible on the lip of the sink and prop yourself up on your elbows trying to be as flat as possible on the cold counter as you could, your toes behind the sink with one foot the other dangling over the edge. You keep you thighs open as Harry hunches over the counter where you now lay diagonal. He places his arms under your thighs and bends your legs flat out as he can stretch you, you're expecting some more teasing but he just looks down at your pussy licking over his lips and almost whining before burying his tongue inside you immediately. The force of his tongue lapping up your previous climax causes you once again to knock the side of your head against the mirrored wall. You turn and watch the scene almost as a spectator, witnessing yourself bare to this beautiful man, curly brown hair between your fists and making sounds like he's savouring every taste. He catches you watching before taking his mouth off you, immediately, you're whining in protest.

"Watch my eyes not my reflection baby, I'm right here"

His authoritative tone eclipsing every thought you had about the casual nickname, you stared down at the wonderful site of him lapping and suckling on your clit. Pointed tongue and firm laps against the swollen button. He then starts lapping up at your glistening hole,unhooking an arm to spread your lips open between his fingers and licking right from the bottom to the top with all the sloppy wet noises involved. He was feeling you contract as he locked faster and faster over you. His tongue deserved an award never mind his music. You couldn't believe you were on the brink of a second orgasm so quickly but when he sunk his middle finger into you at the same pace his tongue was working at, you were screaming his name into the extractor fan above before you knew it. You felt waves of liquid cascade from your pussy as he gently lapped up the produce of his work from you. You flinched in overstimulation but he cleaned up every last drop tenderly before carefully closing your legs and pivoting you round to your previous sitting up position on the counter. Neither of you had spoken a word since you came but as he leads your arms to drape over your shoulders, holding your fucked out body against his chest whilst peppering your temple with soft pecks . Then he kisses you intensely, letting you taste the sweet juices of yourself on his lips. You hummed in approval of the sweet taste as you came round.

A few minutes of carnal making out and things were heating up again. Your hands cupping his jaw then sliding to graze fingernails up and down his back, digging them in a little harder now and again and causing goosebumps to pierce through the skin rapidly under your touch.

You could feel him swallowing down grunts from the friction he was getting from his shorts covered cock brushing up and down between your slick folds.

He'd made you cum twice. Hard. He always got off of making his partners cum of course, so he was feeling beyond turned on and the slight heat of your glistening folds against his length was almostvsending him over the edge.

"I want you inside me" you whispered against his lips desperately.

No sooner had you said the words, his left hand was frantically searching through the vanities top drawer in hope. Finding a packet, checking the date quickly then tearing it between his teeth, spitting the seal onto the floor and pushing his shorts to his ankles, stepping out of them at speed before kicking them away.

He smirked when he caught your eyes bulge at his cock. He knew it was above average but the reaction was always a further compliment he thought.

Stepping forward he put on a show of putting the condom on, first rubbing the drops of sticky pre cum at the head and down his length keeping his eyes locked to yours as you wriggled on the counter with anticipation. He whined a little as it squeezed him rolling it on, so red and over sensitive from turning you on. So that's why, when you grabbed for it, he stilled your hand. Dimples appearing back in his cheeks as you looked again in confusion. He kisses you, languishing the moment before grabbing you forward from the countertop to the floor again, still keeping your lips attached. He lightly grips at your hips and turns you round to face the mirror once more.

Harry lightly grabs your throat, and the way you whimper and push your ass back against him, makes him mentally bank that idea for later perhaps. He runs his left hand up the column of your neck lightly holding your jaw between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him with his hand on your face and the other already working up and down your folds.

"I want you to watch us. Want you to watch yourself come apart. Want to watch you cum around my cock yeah? " he whispers in your ear. You noticeably shiver with excitement of what's to come.

"Please Harry, please, need it, need you."

You watch yourself babble and beg for his cock. The pathetic whimper from yourself as you try and circle your ass into his crotch again to encourage it happening. You were never patient and he's driving you insane here.

Bringing two fingers infront of your lips as you watch yourself in the mirror he looks you dead in the eye through the reflection.

"Spit" so you do, "good girl" he says kissing your cheek. His saliva lubed fingers are back rubbing your clit quickly whilst his knee nudges the back of yours to spread your feet wider as he kisses the back of your neck and shoulders. When he pauses next you're not expecting the hard thrust of him entering you entirely, sure you were dripping wet with the result of two orgasms but you cry out in a mix of stretch and pleasure as he pounds into you at a furious pace. His spare hand not on your clit is holding the bottom of your spine down as he keeps up his rhythm. His pace was that of a man desperate for release after watching you fall apart on his fingers and tongue. The build up meant he was already close as you tight walls fluttered around him. He pleads with you to stop tightening your walls around him or he's not going to last he whimpers.

You were already close again, you'd never cum this many times or this quickly in your life but you were ready for another round and by the sounds of him and the stutter his pace kept slipping you knew he was close too.

You quickly removed his hand, sucking your own fingers into your mouth to replace his own at your clit.

"M'gonna cum, but… OhOh fuck.. But need you harder. Deeper" you manage to get out.

He grunts a curse before squeezing your hips at a pressure that will leave marks tomorrow but the delight in the speed he was now able to snap his hips against the swells of your ass, was well worth it. It only took a few more seconds with the fingers that knew you best, for you to gush against his cock. Feeling absolutely exhausted you slump your sweaty chest onto the cold counter.

His orgasm taking him by surprise when you clenched up to milk him dry. He all but shouts your name as his hips stutter and you feel the warmth of his cum fill the one barrier between you.

His lips were back on your sweaty neck for a second whilst he disposed of the used condom. He ran the walk in shower and wordlessly you took his offered hand to join him under the hot spray. You'd never had an encounter end like this before not that you were a seasoned professional but after 3 orgasms the way his hands moved round your body under the water, washing away your antics with sweet strawberry-banana smelling suds on the flannel, left you with a warm floaty feeling the worn off alcohol never had.

He gently wipes your makeup from under your eyes then, smiling at the cute way your nose wrinkles slightly as he rubs at each eyebrow.

"I don't even have words" you finally laugh out blushing, not able to stand his gauge as you say it.

"Oh. So that's how to make that smart mouth o'yours stop is it? " he grins, you gasp in mock offense and go to say something but going under your chin with his thumb with his forefinger to connect your lips under the warm water spray he kisses you when you pull away you can't help but ask.

"So does this make us even on one ruined fancy vest then?"

"Hmmmm" he ponders with both hands on your face looking at the ceiling out if the falling water. " I'm not sure, I mean it was a custom, pretty high going rate those yeah"

"Yeahhhh you're right, you're right. Better factor in the cost of the custom job then hadn't I huh?"

You hurriedly sink to your knees on the tiled floor.

[mellometal]

WHAT'S GOING ON? THIS IS PART TWO OF ME RIPPING APART DHAR MANN'S VIDEOS ABOUT FATPHOBIA! Whoo-hoo!

Before I get started, here's an obligatory trigger warning: This post will be talking about fatphobia, bullying, homelessness, mentioned ED, fat shaming, shaming a person FOR EATING, and the abused thanking his abuser AS AN ADULT for tormenting him as a young, impressionable teenage boy.

If any of that is triggering, upsetting, or makes you uncomfortable in any way, you don't have to read this post. Please consume media that sparks joy for you.

This time, there won't be a response from me about this video, like I usually do with all my Dhar Mann posts. If you want to see my response, refer to my first post about fatphobia (the one about the plus-size woman being fat shamed). It does tie in with this post, as my thoughts on this video are the exact same here. Yes, even though this is about a (at the time) plus-size black teenage boy being targeted. Search for the "dhar mann talk" tag and it's one of the most recent posts. I don't believe anyone should be shamed for their weight. Your weight doesn't hold any significance to your worth as a person. Don't let anything or anyone tell you otherwise.

With all of that out of the way, let's get to the video!

To sum up the video, it starts out with a plus-size black teenage boy (Kurt or "Big Boy", as he's called almost throughout the entire video) who's on a basketball court at school with his friend (Mike), a few other teenage boys, and Mike's uncle (Frank) is their coach. Mike is the captain on one team, Frank is the captain on the other team. They're picking teammates, and everyone is on a team except for Kurt and another boy. Frank says to his nephew to not pick Kurt (he called him "Big Boy" instead) because "he'd never win with him". LIKE THEY WERE PLAYING FOR THE NBA. CALM YOUR DICK. HOLY FUCKING HELL. THEY'RE KIDS.

Mike, not listening to his uncle (good for him), picks Kurt anyway. Kurt is happy and thanks his friend for picking him. Mike gives Kurt a shirt that looks at least a couple sizes too small for him and would be pretty uncomfortable to wear. This isn't Mike's fault, obviously. Kurt politely asks if they had a bigger shirt. Obviously not an unreasonable request. They're playing a sport that requires lots of movement (honestly, pretty much any sport would apply here, except for maybe golf or cricket) so it's understandable to want to at least be comfortable and have room to move around. Frank mocks A LITERAL TEENAGER with the whole "You think you're shopping at Big&Tall?" line and then says that's the only size they had (why couldn't they supply inclusive sizes in the first place, or at least ASK Kurt what his size was IN ADVANCE?), which....umm, I'm actually GLAD plus-size clothing for men (Big&Tall, in this case) is more readily available and accessible now. I'm happy plus-size clothing in GENERAL is like that now.

Mike comforts Kurt and says the shirt might fit. The shirt does KIND OF fit Kurt, but it's obvious he's uncomfortable. Look at this screenshot here:

Frank laughs at Kurt, says he looks like Barney The Dinosaur, and the other kids laugh along with their coach. This is NOT setting a good example for children, Frank. You're a fucking teacher. You're a COACH. You're supposed to be teaching these kids about sports and shit. You're supposed to be setting a good example for these kids about teamwork and sportsmanship. WHAT YOU'RE DOING TO A TEENAGE BOY, WHO IS MOST LIKELY ONE OF YOUR STUDENTS, IS TEACHING NONE OF THOSE THINGS. You're teaching these kids that bullying their peers for things they can't help having is okay. Do better. (I'd say that he's an adult and should act like one, but I'm an adult and I barely act like one a lot of the time, so that'd make me a hypocrite.)

While I may be fortunate to have had a physical education teacher who never bashed on me or shamed me for my weight and she would cheer me on for whatever amount of effort I made the first and only year I had actual P.E., I know that many other kids who are plus-size most likely has/had horrible P.E. teachers or coaches like Frank.

To anyone who has/had a teacher or coach like Frank, I'm so sorry, kiddos. You don't deserve to be bullied by your own teachers. I wish I could give all of you a hug, but I can give y'all virtual hugs instead! *virtual hugs* /p

So they play a game of basketball, and Kurt is struggling to fully play because the shirt he was given was probably cutting off some circulation, especially in his arms (again, do I need to reiterate that this was NOT Mike's fault and is FRANK'S fault for his ignorance and negligence). Frank mocks his nephew Mike by saying that he told him not to pick Kurt. Why? Because according to him, Kurt will never make anything of himself in life due to him being fat. (AGAIN, THIS IS NOT TRUE.)

Then it cuts to Kurt sitting with Mike, who's working on his car and Kurt's working on his own thing. Mike says he believes one day he'll own a nice, brand new Cadillac. Kurt is very supportive and cheers his friend on. He says that he believes he'll be one of the biggest radio show hosts and has a title for it called "Big Boy's Neighborhood". Both of them are hyping each other up. Love to see men supporting men. Mike pulls out his Walkman (they were HUGE back in the 80s and 90s because you could listen to the radio from anywhere, I have a Sony Walkman mp3 player, but it's a newer model), and Kurt says that he's always wanted one but couldn't afford it. (I'll go into why in a second.)

Frank comes over to reprimand Mike, who has done NOTHING WRONG, for talking to Kurt. Instead of working, which Mike WAS actually doing. He tries to tell his uncle this, but he wasn't having it. Frank then reprimands Kurt, who also has done NOTHING WRONG, for just sitting and apparently "distracting Mike" (he wasn't). He asks if there's any work he was supposed to do. Kurt FINALLY stands up to Frank in a polite, mature manner. He says that just because he wasn't working with his hands, it didn't mean he wasn't working. Frank ridicules Kurt some more, Mike tells his uncle to leave his friend alone, and Kurt stands up to Frank AGAIN, still being polite and mature. UNLIKE THE ACTUAL ADULT ACTING LIKE A CLICHÉ MIDDLE SCHOOL BULLY WHO PROBABLY PEAKED IN HIGH SCHOOL. How fucking ironic.

What does Frank do in response to Kurt standing up to him? INSULTS THE KID SOME MORE. He tells Kurt that he must have "pig fat for brains" (which is not only insulting to Kurt, but also insulting to pigs, because pigs are intelligent animals), takes his small bag of Doritos, and says that he "doesn't need to be eating anything." He eats Kurt's Doritos IN FRONT OF HIM, tells Mike to quit letting his friend make him lazy (he wasn't doing that at all), and to get back to work.

THAT line made me livid. I've actually thought that I didn't deserve to eat anything because I'm plus-size as a teenager, and into my adulthood at a few points in my life. NEVER say that someone doesn't need to be eating anything. (Obviously except for poisonous things, inedible objects, and things that could and will kill them.) You could cause them to develop an ED, or trigger an ED if they already have one. THAT'S NOT A GOOD THING. EDs are no joke. Whether it be starving, purging, or binge eating, none of them are fun to have and/or to deal with. Even if they DON'T develop an ED, their relationship with food will be all sorts of fucky-wucky. Some even for the rest of their lives. Unless you get proper treatment, of course.

When Frank leaves, Kurt is obviously upset. Rightfully so. How he's feeling is justified. Mike comforts him and says to not let Frank get to him. Mike offers to take Kurt home, but then realizes that his friend and his mom got evicted and are homeless. (This is why Kurt couldn't afford to buy a Walkman.) Kurt, still distraught, says that he'll just walk. Mike invites him over for dinner and that he'd drop him off after, which Kurt agrees to.

They're at Mike's house, having dinner, and Mike's parents are talking to Kurt. They're being supportive. Frank walks in to have his sister's cooking. He sees that Kurt's there. Mike's parents introduce Frank to Kurt, tells him Kurt's gonna be on the radio one day, Frank laughs and says Kurt's not gonna be anything. Kurt brushes it off. He says that his mom says that he can achieve whatever he wants (which is true, to a reasonable extent), Frank cuts him off and says his mom was lying to him, and that his mom knows he's gonna be a big loser.

Mike's dad tells Frank to leave Kurt alone. Mike's mom also says the same thing. Frank asks Kurt if his mom doesn't feed him at home, and what he was doing "eating up all their food" (he wasn't; he just had a singular plate). Mike and his mom tell Frank to stop. His mom explains that they invited Kurt over for dinner, and she tells her brother to sit down and eat. Frank then asks Kurt again if his mom doesn't feed him at home. Mike tells Frank that Kurt and his mom don't have a home because they just got evicted, which is a shock to the parents. Instead of having sympathy for a teenage boy who was on the streets with his mom, HE MOCKS HIM. WHO THE FUCK DOES THAT? Especially to a teenage boy who didn't do anything whatsoever to deserve being evicted from his home and be out on the streets with his mom. I've dealt with being evicted. I've dealt with homelessness. Out of no fault of my own. It's not funny, cool, glamorous, or anything like that. It's terrifying. I'm still traumatized by that experience and it happened four years ago. Sometimes I have nightmares about that kind of thing. The very possibility of becoming homeless and going through that again scares the shit out of me. The thought of it is so triggering for me that I will resort to reverting back to things I used to do when I was a kid. It also doesn't help that I will NEVER be able to afford an apartment on my own where I live now and will probably have to rely on at least two or three roommates and/or family to get by. Thanks a lot, Boomers.

I would never wish what I went through on anyone. Anyways, back to the whole summary of the video.

Kurt gets up and leaves the table. Mike tries to go after his friend to make sure he was okay, but Frank stops his nephew. ONLY WHEN KURT LEAVES DOES FRANK ALL NONCHALANTLY SAY THAT HE'S STARVING AND THAT THEY SHOULD ALL EAT. Despite Frank making Kurt as well as his (Frank's) own family upset.

Kurt walks to where his mom is. His mom notices that he's upset. Kurt tells his mom that it's because of Frank. His mom comforts him and gives him the advice that she gave him before. Kurt is still obviously too upset to take anything she's telling him, bringing up that they're homeless and broke, and his mom is desperate to help comfort her son. She gives him his birthday present early, which happens to be a Walkman. Kurt is shocked. He thought they didn't have that kind of money. His mom says not to worry about that. She pokes some lighthearted fun at her son, he thanks her, and he asks her a question. He asks if she believes he'll be successful or if she's saying that to make him feel better. She asks if he believes he'll be successful (yep), and he tells her that when he succeeds, he'll buy them a house so they don't have to be homeless anymore or worry about getting evicted.

Fast forward to adulthood, Kurt becomes a bouncer, meets someone who works at a radio station, and he goes there. Just to have people laughing at him. He's distraught again and leaves the station, thinking that he made a bad decision. Frank happens to come by, see that Kurt was upset, and asks what's wrong. Kurt tells him what happened, and Frank mocks him AGAIN with the same shit he told him when he was a TEENAGE BOY, now as a YOUNG ADULT. He walks off, laughing.

Nice going! /s Kicking Kurt while he's down JUST LIKE OLD TIMES, RIGHT? FUCK YOU.

Kurt then decides that he's gonna lose weight and be the best radio show host. (Toxic much? Why would you try to preach that your weight = your worth as a person? If you're losing weight for yourself, great! I'm happy for you! If you don't want to lose weight, you don't give a fuck about what people say, and you're happy in your own skin, that's awesome too! Do it for yourself, not for anyone's approval. Try to love yourself and accept yourself in any form you're in. Don't fall for the bullshit that you have to be a certain size or look a certain way for you to love and accept yourself. The weight may be gone, but the rest of your issues will still be there. I have to clarify that I meant this in GENERAL, not necessarily for extremities on either side of the spectrum of weight...because there are things you MUST follow.)

Kurt gets back to the station, ignores all the people being assholes, he's doing his thing, and he's climbing up.

Fast forward to when Kurt is middle-aged. He has his own radio show, and he's one of the biggest names in the radio industry. After he finishes up his show, he goes outside to see a couple of young fans. A young black girl with her brother, a plus-size boy. They say how much they love his show, they got his merch, and the boy tells Kurt that he wants to be just like him. The boy doubts himself though because of people abusing him JUST LIKE what Kurt went through. Kurt empathizes with the boy and tells him a little bit about his own experience. Following them is Frank as an old man. They're his grandkids.

Frank recognizes Kurt, and actually apologizes to him for the torment he put him through as a teenager. WHAT A SHOCK. /srs

Kurt takes it with grace, but says that he should be thanking Frank for all the torment. Why? Because it "motivated him". The girl says that she loves that. (Okay, since she's a kid and there's still time for her to change her mind about certain things, I'm not going to be as harsh here. I don't bash on the kids unless they're doing or saying extremely fucked up things willingly. She didn't say this with bad intentions. I understand you're coming from a good place, and I appreciate that, but please hear me out. This wasn't at all like dealing with edgy thirteen year olds on the internet. This man you look up to was abused by your grandfather in his youth. Your brother is experiencing that same torment your idol went through...at a younger age too, it seems like. The kid looks no older than middle school age [ten or eleven at the YOUNGEST to maybe thirteen or fourteen at the OLDEST]. That's a huge problem. Kurt may have "toughed it out", but that might not be the case for your brother. Please don't excuse that kind of behavior.)

Dude...what the actual fuck? I can understand not being bothered by the hate, but this grown ass man literally VERBALLY AND EMOTIONALLY ABUSED YOU AS A YOUNG, IMPRESSIONABLE TEENAGE BOY, CONTINUING INTO ADULTHOOD, and you're THANKING Frank for all of that? Why should you thank your abuser for what he put you through? He didn't contribute ANYTHING to your success. So I guess abuse is a GREAT contribution to people's success now, right? /s It doesn't contribute to anything, in my opinion. Yes, what doesn't kill you can make you stronger, but can we normalize people becoming weaker to a point due to traumatic events? Because they exist. Demonizing survivors who have become weaker to some degree or just flat-out ignoring them isn't helping. You did the thing you wanted to do, Kurt. Frank didn't help you. The person who really helped you was YOU and your mom.

MOVING ON.

The boy asks Kurt if he thinks he'll ever be able to make it as a radio show host. Kurt asks if HE believes that. The boy says he does. Kurt gives him some advice and gives the boy his Walkman. The boy's ecstatic, they leave, and Kurt goes to meet up with his mom.

Keeping to his promise, Kurt bought his mom a house so she'd never be homeless again and never have to worry about being evicted. (HOW LONG WAS SHE HOMELESS FOR? OH MY GOD. THAT'S WHAT I WANT TO KNOW. I hope you at least let her stay with you or something. They never went into that, unfortunately.) She's very grateful. The video ends there.

My personal thoughts on the video: Another piss poor video....but worse! Because it was a COLLAB. And based on a true story. Good going with taking this man's story of being abused by a grown adult to exploit for your personal gain, Dhar Mann! WOW. LOVE THAT! Totally a good look. /s

What I took from this video is that if you're plus-size, according to Dhar Mann, you'll apparently NEVER be successful, let alone be taken seriously...which is an absolute lie. There are many plus-size people who are very successful. Another thing I took from the video is that apparently according to Dhar Mann, being verbally and emotionally abused as a teenager by a grown adult all the way into adulthood is "motivation" for you to work harder to reach your goals. (Nice going, Dhar Mann. Justifying grown adults abusing children. Who would've thought? /s)

Oh, and it's like MANDATORY to thank your abusers for tormenting you when you become successful! (Obviously this is an exaggeration. This is me using Dhar Mann's logic against him.) You want to thank them for making you stronger? Fine. You want to spit in their face and say, "Fuck you." to them? Also fine. You want to just never acknowledge them ever again? Totally fine. Whatever you want to do, that's fine by me, but can you not imply that "thanking" your abusers is mandatory in some way?

If you made it this far, thank you! I hope you're having a good morning/day/afternoon/evening/night. Stay safe, y'all. Love you. /p