#so then the solution could be to put it here on my personal! the online space cozy enough and filled with other posts that could easily bury

[eternal-reverie]

got the posting anxiety bad tonight

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not having time to read my mutual's writing?

Met a mutual on here, bonded through fanfic, have been tight with them for a few years with pretty much no bumps in the relationship, just overall had a really good time hanging around them when I could. We both write a lot and share our writing, and occasionally we talk about that writing/workshop it in passing.

In the past few years I've gone through a ton of life changes. Most notably I went from a multi-person household to a single-person one, and I've been living alone in a prohibitively costly city for a while now working 40 hour weeks and barely scraping by. As soon as the transition started I spent the last of my free income on a shitty little laptop so I could still write, putting down words on my bus/train commutes in the morning and quite literally writing on my breaks at work because I feel insane when I can't create. I bring this up to really stress that I don't have the time for the hobby, I force myself to make the time and even then it never feels like enough.

The only thing I can really stand to do with my 3 hours of free time at night is hang out with my moots online. I'm an extrovert so being around people recharges me. If I don't have designated social time I get super depressed and can pretty much feel my soul withering away. I also feel like I should probably mention that I kinda have a slew of mental issues, personality disorders and PTSD and AuDHD and the works. Point being, shit is rough my dude, but I am a person who likes to work hard and face challenges head on and even though we strugglin, we doing it with a positive outlook.

But! I am an incredibly solution-oriented person and I have found what I personally believe to be a good balance. No one should have to live like this, but I do, and I have found a way to be happy. My writing and my social time is all load-bearing. It is not something I just choose to do on a whim, it's all planned and scheduled and I adhere to those routines very strictly because, I cannot stress this enough, I will go fucking bonkers if I don't.

I'm mutuals with a lot of writers obv, and I sadly don't have time to read their work anymore, unless I get some extra time on my days off or something gets cancelled or like, I end up taking a vacation. I carry a great amount of guilt for this, though, even though I logically know it's reasonable. I try to support them where I can, cheer them on when I see them writing and tell them how cool their ideas sound, hype them up even when I can't actually read & review.

One of the things I do is sometimes I leave a kudos on fic I haven't read. I'm not trying to be ingenuine, and if they asked me I'd tell them like 'Oh I didn't read it yet, just wanted to show support!' but to me it's kinda like ripping a paper tab off a poster so that other's feel inclined to do the same. Plus my pals get a little email and a hit of serotonin.

Except one of my acquaintances, the one I mentioned at the start here, saw that I left kudos on a couple pieces another mutual of mine wrote this year. They more or less blew up my DMs with a ton of accusatory (like, literally presented like a 'GOTCHA!') stuff about how I was selective in who's fic I read, more or less implying that I secretly held some sort of grudge or negative feeling toward them and was making the conscious decision not to read or interact with their writing because of. Something, I don't actually know what they were trying to say. They also told me they vented to their friends about this MULTIPLE times, but they never once approached me to let me know they were feeling paranoid or neglected, they literally just took the most bad faith reading of it possible and then presented that to me like it was something I intentionally did, while the whole time I was unaware.

I tried to explain to them the kudos thing, that I didn't do it to every story, just ones I caught/noticed in my busy schedule. And I laid all this out and asked, multiple times, what free time am I supposed to read with? They didn't answer, and doubled down, kept trying to show me 'proof' that I was shorting them and no one else. Once they started to realize how wrong they were they backed down, but they didn't really apologize, or admit they were wrong, and they tried to end our relationship and left every single server we were in together. Because of some other unrelated stuff going on in my life, I didn't really consider them to be a close friend, but they were someone I really held dear and would've walked through hell for if they'd asked.

I still feel like there is something I'm missing here, and that's why I wanted to ask if I'm TA. I'm a pretty good communicator but one of the things I told myself when talking down my disordered thoughts (guilt about this prior) was "no one in their right mind would use reading fanfic as a metric for friendship." Now that I've had that exact thing happen, I'm starting to think maybe those thoughts weren't so disordered. Maybe this IS a big deal, and I should think about it more, but I don't even know what the solution to that would be. I just. Don't have time to read something lovingly crafted and appreciate it for what it is. All the hours in my week are used up, I'd have to lose sleep for this and with my mental health the way it is that is not an option.

Feel free to be a brutal, my skin is thick. Thanks!

What are these acronyms?

[oc-ology]

How to get past the fear of OC posting

People should create for the sake of creating but people post to engage with the community. However, posting can be intimidating and anxiety-inducing for a lot of people. It’s easy to say “do it scared” but much harder to put into practice. So, I’ve put together a few steps that lead up to doing it scared. These won’t work for everyone and this is meant more as general advice.

Step One: Why are you scared?

The first step is to figure out what about posting is scary for you. Oftentimes, it’s not as simple as “what if my post flops” or “what if people think I’m cringe”. Once you’ve figured out the surface-level reason, dig a little deeper. If your post flops, does that lead to you doubting the worth of what you’re creating? If you’re worried about what people think, is that because you’ve experienced judgement before or are worried your inbox will be flooded with criticism?

Identifying why you’re scared will not only help you understand yourself better (yippee!) but you can also then work on the source of your fears and anxieties at your own pace.

Step Two: Find ways to lessen your fears

One way of working through anxiety online is to find ways to mitigate the specific source of your fear.

Some fears have easier solutions than others. If you’re worried about people criticising your work, you can turn off anonymous asks (as most people are less likely to be haters when there’s a name attached to it) or turn asks off entirely, as well as limiting replies to those who have been following for a week. This way, if someone does want to be an unpleasant individual, it’s a little harder for them to do so.

A lack of engagement is a little harder to remedy. Here, the only real solution is to try and divorce the idea that engagement = worth. Remember why you’re creating an OC. Because it’s fun! It’s an act of creation! Because you want to find a community…? A community or OC friends will never just drop into your lap. You need to seek them out yourself. Look into discord servers, forums, tumblr networks (are they still a thing?), fandom events and exchanges, and most importantly: go out of your way to send asks/questions to others and build friendships with them! If you’ve got social anxiety like me, this is going to be a big challenge. Which leads to the next step…

Step Three: Start small

It doesn’t matter how small your first step is - so long as that step is forwards! If you’re nervous about OC posting, find the smallest thing about them and post it with the expectation of getting no notes. That’s right, I want you to go in and expect it to flop. Anything over one note is an automatic win. This first post isn’t about engagement - it’s about getting over the initial fear of posting. 

It can be tempting to just go right out the gate with elaborate explanations of backstory, lore implications, power levels, everything. But the trick really is to start small. Most people scrolling tumblr aren’t going to read a few thousand words on something they’re not invested in yet. TL;DR is a curse that I’m sure we’ve all fallen victim to. 

Instead, break up information about your OC into small pieces that can be posted one by one and have some kind of visual piece with it. People are usually more drawn to images than text. For example, which of these two things are more visually interesting?

What Perseus keeps in his bag:

Amulet

Tinderbox

A broken blade

50ft of hempen rope

25gp of silver powder

Waterskin

Rations (cheese, bread, sausage)

OR

Obviously this comes down to personal preference but a lot of people would find the illustrated version to be more interesting. You don’t need to be an artist to do this either! You could make a version of that example in photoshop or a similar program. Picrews, moodboards, edits, game screenshots and photography can all be used to add a visual element to your posts.

Step Four: Why am I still scared?

Fear is not easily stamped out. Anxiety is definitely the kind of thing that lingers. These steps aren’t meant to immediately make OC posting not-scary. That’s something that will only come with time as you get used to it. Again: Do it. Do it scared. Gradually, it’ll be less terrifying and in the meantime, you might be able to make a few friends who also want to talk about your blorbo.

[brujaluas]

how to speed up the connection with your future spouse

Hi, this would be a sample of what my paid readings are like and how I intend to do the readings on Patreon as well. I gave a lot of myself to this special edition, I hope you enjoy it.

pile 1 has slightly delicate subjects, so be careful when reading, I'm not very good with words and I end up being too direct. I'm sorry for anything.

everything about my paid readings and personal spells

pile 1

Right at the beginning I feel a bad energy, it even gave me back pain, you are hurting yourself a lot, it could even be physically, I'm sorry for saying this but I believe it is necessary to remove all the veils so that I can do a good drawing for you, continuing… you are hurting yourself and punishing yourself and this has been happening for a while now, it is painful and very painful, it is as if you think you deserve to go through this, you cultivate many bad habits with yourself, someone may have put this in your head or has harmed you too, I advise you to take a herbal bath, cleanse your energy spiritually, you are stuck in a painful situation, and you need to free yourself from it, I also see that you need to create greater responsibility, love It's something really beautiful, but keep your feet on the ground, evaluate people well, create greater maturity to manage your feelings and emotions, that's what you're asked to do, you have the key to your solutions, like that at the beginning, I'll be back to say again: you need to end a cycle. I know this is very difficult, it is something that requires a lot of patience and dedication and sometimes we are so exhausted that we feel like we won't make it, but you will. we will. You need to end this toxic cycle that you created with yourself, you need to do this so that true love finds you. Soon after you manage to complete this cycle, in less than two years, or even a year, you will find who you deserve. you can communicate over the internet first, some online contact, there is a vintage vibe between you, you can also like to communicate by letters, for many, I feel like it is a man, or someone with strong masculine energy, possibly, it is a foreigner, it can being from a different city or even a different country, with different habits, you may meet on a trip, or your future spouse may end up passing through the place where you live, it is a love that will teach you a lot, especially to mature your ideas and maybe even teach you some things about life, I won't deny it, there may be barriers in sight, it's not clear what it will be, but there will be some obstacles, it's as if the universe wanted to put you and your love to test so that they can be together, it could be a difference of ideas, geographically, someone in the family is opposed… things like that, but you love each other, and you have both gone through a healing process, this person went through it before, you more recently, but they are both fine, I see a bright future, very beautiful and full of joy, you waking up with a smile on your face seeing your love by your side, something like that.

Pile 2

I see you in a very happy moment, maybe you are even in a relationship with someone, I'm a little confused, unlike the other pile, this one presents excellent images at the beginning, it can also be a confirmation that your manifestation and prayers to find your true love are flowing, you can even meet in dreams and not know it, something that tells me that this connection is already activated in some way. It's beautiful, for some of you, I feel like you're older, or you have an old soul, you've been through a lot in your lives, true warriors, I'm impressed with the commitment you have to life and to you. A very beautiful and revolutionary healing happened here, or will happen very soon, I see you achieving emotional, spiritual peace, in other words, it is as if you became your best friend who is always in the stands cheering for you. I see many prosperous fruits, you can achieve a great career, some dream of being a mother or father here, I see you achieving this, you can have 2 to 4 children, I see you building a beautiful house and living with your love, what can I say? You look great, you can live in the countryside, because you want silence. you can make a lot of plans, you can move somewhere, or I see that some are living far away from their parents and after marriage they will move closer to them, your passion will make you feel a huge impulse, like seeing old friendships again, Going to places where you went as a child, with this euphoria you may end up doing things that are a little questionable, be careful with that, but even so I see the purest success here, you are learning very well to defend yourself and that is good, in the beginning The print run made it seem like you already know your future spouse, and I see that this feeling is because for some, it's an ex. you are undergoing immense progress and evolution, your future spouse is too, you are on the same level in everything, it's like it's something mirrored, there's nothing I can say, I think, just that you keep doing whatever you're doing, it's just a matter of time.

[vashtijoy]

Just saw your recent reblog, I'm so sorry if you get asked this a lot--is the cut post-game location where Akechi is not a rehab?

Wow, I've just been through my index and it doesn't seem I've ever posted about this—so thank you for asking! Note that this is (hopefully) PART ONE of a two-part post; this is way overlong without me getting into my thoughts about this scene.

The scene we're talking about is a deleted scene where Akechi (offscreen, and clearly alive) is talking to two employees (onscreen), in what looks like a bathhouse. They gossip about his plans for the future, until he arrives in person to catch them out and put some things on record.

Here's the scene, with my translation. (page down for the text). Pay attention to how the, uh, man standing in the bath knows Akechi is outside all along, while the woman who comes in to gossip does not.

There are a lot of theories about this scene—where is it happening? when does it happen? what purpose does it serve?—not least because there are several different translations floating around. But we can tell quite a bit from the text. Quick summary, since this is a post and a half already:

The place Akechi checks in on 12/24, per this deleted scene, is not a rehab or hotel or hospital, but a type of refuge called a kakekomidera.

This scene takes place (probably) after school on 2/10, as the last of the string of confidant interventions between 2/4 and 2/13. As such, it represents the thing Akechi is doing for Joker to get him out of detention.

Let's take a look.

firstly, what is this place?

People have variously described the bathhouse in this scene as a rehab (no), a hotel or ryokan (no), a hospital (no) and a mental hospital (def Not). So what is it?

The scene tells us exactly what it is:

Gossipy Employee ⋯まあここは、俺らもそうだけど、スネに傷あるモンの駆け込み寺だ。 ... maa koko wa, orera mo sou da kedo, sune ni kizu aru mon no kakekomidera da [lit. well, this place is a kakekomidera for people with a guilty conscience, like us.]

what is a kakekomidera?

A 寺 tera is a Buddhist temple; it's the ji at the end of a lot of temple names. 駆け込む kakekomu means to seek refuge somewhere. So a kakekomidera is a temple where you seek refuge.

And that is the place Akechi has taken himself to: it's a refuge. It's a shelter, like a domestic violence shelter—somewhere you go when you're at the end of your rope, with nowhere to turn; when you're in danger. Somewhere he stayed as a child—with his mother, who was likewise in a perilous and vulnerable situation. Where he knows there are people who will take him in, no questions asked, after everything he's done. Who might even remember him.

Historically, a kakekomidera (like the one in the link) was a place women could go if their husbands were abusive; they entered religious service, and subsequently accessed divorce: "Temple records show that, during the Tokugawa period alone"—that's 1603–1857, often also called the Edo period—"an estimated 2,000 women sought shelter there."

Services called kakekomidera still exist today. They are often in temples—if you can stop by to talk to a monk about your problems and look for solutions, that's a kakekomidera. Online helpdesks are often called kakekomidera—you can look up a "Desktop Publishing kakekomidera" site, for instance.

[more below the cut...]

English sources are usually all referencing the same organisation, Gen Hidemori's Nippon Kakekomidera in Shinjuku:

Gen opens the doors of his organization to all who are in dire straits, regardless of age, gender, income, or social status. Visitors to the office located in Tokyo’s infamous Kabukichō red-light district seek respite from domestic violence, pressing debt, and trouble with organized crime groups. Gen says he even sees gang members looking to make a clean break from the criminal underworld.

Does a kakekomidera do rehab-like things sometimes? Sure. They act as halfway houses for people leaving prison. They help people work through problems in their lives. But in English, a "rehab" is focused on rehabilitating people—after addiction, after illness or injury, after prison, during old age—and that is not what I think we should be picturing here.

I have not been able to track down a residential one like the one in the game, but hey, it's fiction. I wouldn't want to say, though, that they don't exist—don't forget the historical kakekomidera, where you entered service and stayed until you were ready to leave. Though this doesn't appear to be any sort of religious setting, I suspect it's not for nothing that Akechi is doing menial work around the place.

next, when does this scene take place?

The game code allows us to lock this scene almost down to the hour. This will get a little technical at points, so bear with me. You can easily skim past most of this.

Every event in P5 and P5R is numbered. They have two numbers: a major number, identifying the event, and a minor number, identifying part of the event. (You can get more granular than this, identifying individual lines of the script, but that's beyond our scope here.)

This deleted event of Akechi's is numbered E470_810. That is, it has a major number (identifying the event) of 470, and a minor number (identifying part of event 470) of 810.

what is event 470?

Event 470 is the collection of events that happen after Joker enters detention—that is, on 12/24 with Sae in vanilla, or on 2/4 after Maruki's boss fight in Royal.

You can probably see where this is going. Here's the list of events in event 470:

E470_001—[vanilla only] the sad Christmas Day meeting after Joker is arrested, where the PTs determine that this is super unfair and they should do something about it;

E470_101—[vanilla only] Joker's interrogation while detained;

E470_201—Sojiro's intervention after Joker's arrest;

E470_211—Takemi's intervention after Joker's arrest;

E470_301—Kawakami's intervention after Joker's arrest;

E470_311—Iwai's intervention after Joker's arrest;

E470_401—Mishima's intervention after Joker's arrest;

E470_411—Chihaya's intervention after Joker's arrest;

E470_501—Ohya's intervention after Joker's arrest;

E470_511—Yoshida's intervention after Joker's arrest;

E470_601—Shinya's intervention after Joker's arrest;

E470_611—Hifumi's intervention after Joker's arrest;

E470_701—Makoto's intervention after Joker's arrest;

E470_711—Sumire's intervention after Joker's arrest;

E470_810—Akechi's intervention after Joker's arrest.

The next event after that is E471_001, which is Sae meeting Joker in detention for his release on 2/13.

What does this list tell us? Well, mainly, this deleted scene of Akechi's, E470_810, was intended to play along with all those others up there; they're the same event, with the same major number, 470. It's not some random scene we can know nothing about; it has a context, and that context is that Akechi, just like the others, is working to get Joker out of detention. If this scene had been left in, it would have played along with all the other max-rank confidant scenes prior to 2/13.

You might have noticed that Akechi's scene is not quite grouped with the others—there is no E470_801, when the other confidant scenes move cleanly through Ex_x01 to Ex_x11 to Ex_x01 and so on. Whether that's because there's a missing event (storyboarded but never written?) or because he's not quite working with the others, or perhaps because it would have played out of sequence, like Makoto's (numbered last, originally, even though it played first)—we can't tell.

I did say we could lock this scene down almost to the hour, and that brings us to something called the scheduler:

where is event 470 in the scheduler? what is the scheduler?

The scheduler is a piece of code that tells the game engine what events to play on what day. If you want to know what triggers an event to play, the scheduler is a good first stop.

It's split into one file per month (SCHEDULER_04.BF through SCHEDULER_03.BF), and each month is split into a number of functions per day. Usually two functions play in the morning (early and mid-morning?) and five in the PM slot, which we can identify from the events that happen during them:

PM slot A—lunchtime. Includes e.g. the deleted lunch events;

PM slot B—midafternoon. Includes e.g. the chat events during the afternoon lesson;

PM slot C—after school. Includes e.g. Mishima's after-school confidant unlock in your homeroom;

PM slot D—evening. Includes e.g. Sae and Makoto's conversation over dinner before the hot pot party;

PM slot E—bed. Includes e.g. Joker's excursions to the Velvet Room.

In vanilla, the clock is visible for these confidant events, so we can see time passing; the events are also spread more widely through the day. In Royal, though, the clock is disabled for them, probably because they're so much closer together. But whether you consider these event times binding or not, we can still see exactly when they are—because the scheduler tells us so:

Makoto (E470_701)—2/5 (Royal), 1/3 (vanilla), midafternoon;

Sojiro (E470_201)—2/5 (Royal), 1/5 (vanilla), midafternoon;

Takemi (E470_211)—2/6 after school (Royal), 1/7 midafternoon (vanilla);

Kawakami (E470_301)—2/6 (Royal), 1/10 (vanilla), after school;

Iwai (E470_315)—2/7 after school (Royal only); Iwai (E470_311)—1/13 after school (vanilla only);

Mishima (E470_401)—2/7 (Royal), 1/14 (vanilla), after school;

Chihaya (E470_411)—2/8 (Royal), 1/16 (vanilla), after school;

Ohya (E470_501)—2/8 after school (Royal), 1/18 evening (vanilla);

Yoshida (E470_511)—2/9 after school (Royal), 1/22 midafternoon (vanilla);

Shinya (E470_601)—2/9 (Royal), 1/28 (vanilla), midafternoon;

Hifumi (E470_611)—2/9 (Royal), 1/31 (vanilla), after school;

Sumire (E470_711)—2/10 after school (Royal only).

Lastly, Sae always breaks Joker out during the midafternoon slot on 2/13, in both Royal and vanilla, just before Valentine's Day.

Is there anything notable in this huge swathe of data?

Three confidants changed their event slot in Royal, presumably to fit multiple events into one function on the same day: Takemi moved from midafternoon in vanilla to after school in Royal, Ohya moved from the evening slot to after school, and Yoshida moved from midafternoon to after school.

Iwai has two minor numbers, because he has two slightly different events—vanilla Iwai says "Make sure the guys in lock-up know not to let anyone lay a damn finger on him", while Royal Iwai does not!

Why was this line cut from Royal? Was Joker somehow in less danger in juvie? Well... vanilla places a lot more emphasis on Joker's detention. Rather than Akechi showing up on 12/24, Sae has a long digression about juvenile hall, and how awful it will be, and the consequences for Joker and his friends. Joker gets interrogated in detention and so on.

So maybe this line was there to build suspense, in vanilla—whereas in Royal, there's just no need, because everything has already happened.

what about akechi

OKAY SO. Getting back to the important stuff, what does all of that tell us about Akechi's deleted scene? Well, it lets us date it.

This scene does not appear to exist in vanilla, when Akechi is pretty definitively ?dead in January and February. It was added with Sumire's, for Royal—and then deleted from the scheduler, so that it's out of game. And in Royal, two events play every day—except on 2/10.

Only Sumire's event plays on 2/10. So we can stake a pretty good guess here that Akechi's event would have been paired with Sumire's event, the other Royal Trio event, in that after school time slot on 2/10.

Maybe it would have played on 2/11 or 2/12. Maybe it would have been like Makoto's event, and jumped out of the list to play elsewhen. But given that it's a reveal, I think it almost certainly would have played last (as its position in the event list suggests)—and 2/10 with Sumire seems like a good place for it.

lastly, what even is this scene

I'm attaching my translation of the scene beneath the cut, since it's been sitting in my Tumblr drafts forever and a day. Obviously this is hugely subject to error and not likely to be entirely correct—nonetheless, enjoy.

* * *

[The Prurient Employee walks in and addresses the Gossipy Employee, who is staring down at the floor.]

Prurient Employee 聞いた? kiita? Did you hear the news?

Gossipy Employee ああ⋯ aa... I did.

[He turns to her, glancing outside at what appears to be nothing in particular.]

Gossipy Employee さっき、本人から聞いたよ。 sakki, honnin kara kiita yo I just got it from him face to face.

Gossipy Employee 来たばっかだってのに、来月で辞めるって話だろう? kita bakka datte no ni, raigetsu de yameru tte hanashi darou? People were saying he's leaving next month, right? Even though he only just got here.

Prurient Employee あの子まだ、ちっちゃかったときよね?お母さんと一緒に出てって何年ぶり⋯? ano ko mada, chicchakatta toki yo ne? okaasan to issho ni dete tte nannen buri...? That kid was tiny when he left with his mother, wasn’t he? How many years has it been?…

Prurient Employee イケメンになって帰ってきた~って、うちら盛り上がってたのに。 ikemen ni natte kaette kita~tte, uchira moriagatteta no ni We were so excited, he'd just come back all grown-up and handsome, and now...

Gossipy Employee ここのこと覚えといてくれてたのは嬉しかったよな。 koko no koto oboetoite kureteta no wa ureshikatta yo na At least he still remembered he could come here, though.

Gossipy Employee ⋯まあここは、俺らもそうだけど、スネに傷あるモンの駆け込み寺だ。 ... maa koko wa, orera mo sou da kedo, sune ni kizu aru mon no kakekomidera da That's what this place is for. To shelter people like us, who have a past they can't forget.

Gossipy Employee それに昔よしみってんなら、困ってたら匿うのは当然だよ。 sore ni mukashi yoshimi tte n nara, komattetara kakumau no wa touzen da yo Especially someone we’ve known for so long. As if we wouldn’t hide him when he needed it.

Prurient Employee 『東京でやり残したことがある』って理由らしいわよ。 "toukyou de yarinokoshita koto ga aru" tte riyuu rashii wa yo I heard he said he has "unfinished business in Tokyo."

Gossipy Employee そんなことまで知ってるの。 sonna koto made shitteru no You really do know it all, don't you.

Prurient Employee ⋯ねえ。 ...nee Tell me, though...

Prurient Employee やり残したことって、やっぱりコレ関係? yarinokoshita koto tte, yappari kore kankei? This "unfinished business" of his—that’s what all this is about, right?

[Akechi speaks, offscreen.]

Young Man's Voice やめてくださいよ。妙な詮索。 yamete kudasai yo. myouna sensaku I wish you’d keep your nose out of my affairs.

[The Prurient Employee goes !, realising he was there all along.]

Prurient Employee いるなら言ってよ⋯~ iru nara itte yo...~ Tell me, then, if you're right there!

Gossipy Employee 東京で世話になったヤツがいるんだと。 toukyou de sewa ni natta yatsu ga iru n da to He did say there was someone who helped him out in Tokyo.

Gossipy Employee そいつに貸しを作りに行くんだ。 soitsu ni kashi o tsukuri ni iku n da So he's going back because he owes him.

Gossipy Employee なあ? naa? Right?

Young Man's Voice 借り返して辞めるつもりですから。 karikaeshite yameru tsumori desu kara Don't worry, I’ll clear my debts here before I leave.

Young Man's Voice 去年の⋯イヴ? アポ無しで来た僕を何も言わず受けれてくれた分と⋯ kyonen no... ibu? aponashi de kita boku o nani mo iwazu ukerete kureta bun to... For taking me in last year… on Christmas Eve, was it? Without an appointment. Without asking questions.

Young Man's Voice それと昔、母がお世話になった分はね。 sore to mukashi, haha ga o-sewa ni natta bun wa ne And for everything you did for my mother.

Prurient Employee それにしても貸しを作りに⋯なんて、あんたらしいね。 sore ni shite mo kashi o tsukuri ni... nante, anta rashii ne Never mind that. To go to these lengths just because you owe somebody… No, I guess that’s you all over, isn’t it.

Young Man's Voice 思ったとおりにいけば、あいつとあいつと仲間⋯ omotta toori ni ikeba, aitsu to aitsu to nakama... If it comes off, then that guy and his friends will live out their lives…

Young Man's Voice 一生、僕に⋯感謝するんです。 issei, boku ni... kansha suru n desu …Well, they’ll owe me their thanks forever.

[The two employees go ?]

Young Man's Voice 軒先、掃除してきますね。 nokisaki, souji shite kimasu ne I’m going to sweep up outside.

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revision history

Click here for the latest version.

v1.0 (2023/12/03)—first posted.

[originalfatfiction]

Belonging

His name was Amos Stanton, and we’d met online. He was twenty-nine years old, eight years my senior, and we had been corresponding with one another since I was nineteen. He’d wanted to meet up with me on multiple occasions, offering to arrange everything to make it happen, but in the end I always chickened out. In all honesty, I was surprised he put up with me and my apprehension considering he seemed well-off and very honest about his intentions. I always had the feeling that he thought I was a flake who couldn’t truly commit.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like him. I thought about him constantly, but I had my reasons for being so hesitant to meet him in person. We’d had hundreds of phone calls over the years, but only a handful of video chatting sessions. Aside from a couple of photographs, I hadn’t even really seen his body. I sent him loads of pictures, but he was a more reserved sort of guy. I only had a foggy idea of what to expect from an actual meet-up. I guess it was a fear of ruining something I’d been building up in my mind for years. What if he’d been dishonest? I wouldn’t be able to continue our relationship if he had lied to me.

I hadn’t gone off to college. I worked a low paying retail job in the mall and still lived at home. My parents were furious I didn’t accept the wrestling scholarship I had been offered from our state school. Both of my older brothers had gone off to college and sometimes I regretted not going as well, at least to get away from my parents. But I knew deep down I wouldn’t have enjoyed it. I was never much for education.

Amos had finally convinced me to come and live with him. We’d been talking about an argument I’d had with my parents. They kept telling me I was “wasting my life” and that I “couldn’t live with them forever.” I was barely twenty-one, the candles on my birthday cake still smoking. I sure as hell didn’t want to live with them much longer. Amos listened as I complained, letting me know I’d be okay, and things would get better with my parents. “I just don’t wanna be here,” I’d said, not truly expecting him to provide me with a solution.

“Then come live with me,” he’d replied. “I’ll take care of you.”

And that was that.

He owned a home in a larger city, and he told me I was more than welcome to stay for as long as I liked. I knew it was crazy and I knew things could turn out terribly, but I also knew—deep down—that this was what I needed in my life to be happy. I knew that Amos would give me what I’d always wanted for myself.

I wanted to be big.

Amos would talk to me about how strong he could make me, about how big I’d get, about how I was going to be his devoted ex-jock. I would get hard just thinking about it and masturbate for hours. I still lifted hard, even after being out of high school for three years, but I wasn’t getting any size. My body was that of a wrestler and I still found it hard to eat a lot of food. I was barely 160 pounds on my 5’8” frame. I had ended high school at 145 pounds, so I was making progress, but it wasn’t enough.

A few days after that conversation with Amos, I sat my parents down and told them about how I was going to live with a buddy from high school, that a job training program opened up near his home, and that I’d try to visit during the holidays. It was late April at this point. My father told me it was the right thing to do as a man and gave me a hundred dollars to get started in the world. I loved my parents but being at home wasn’t going to make me happy.

The next thing I knew I was on a bus, the ride only about two hours. I had arranged everything with Amos, and he told me he’d be there to greet me. I was nervous. I kind of wanted to turn around and go back home, but at this point I had to follow through. I wasn’t going to flake out this time. I had to think positively and believe everything was going to work out.

My bus pulled into the terminal, and after grabbing my two duffel bags, I made my way to the waiting area. I thought about if he didn’t show. I would look like a complete idiot with nowhere to go. I couldn’t survive alone in the city with only my measly savings account and the hundred bucks from my mom and dad.

I knew what he looked like from his pictures and our handful of video chats, but it was still hard trying to find him in the crowd of people. “Russell,” I heard a voice call. I scanned the crowd again. “Hey there.” There he stood, in the flesh. Amos. I was more than excited. I felt like a little kid with a schoolyard crush. I dropped my bags and went in to hug him. He was tall and thinly muscled. Now this was living. “Well fuck,” he said. “You’re cute.”

I laughed, my face hot with embarrassment. I had to remember he was an older guy and that I had to act more maturely. “It’s, uh, really nice to finally meet you,” I said, trying my best to contain my enthusiasm.

“Likewise,” he said with a grin. He motioned towards the exit. “My car’s this way. Let’s go.” I grabbed my bags and followed behind him like a lost puppy. 

He was maybe about 6’3” and took long strides. I walked quickly to keep up. He wore a pair of stylish charcoal slacks and a white dress shirt. His ass looked great, very firm and round. I watched it shift as I walked along behind him. He looked younger than he actually was, definitely not like he was almost thirty.

I liked that he was taller than I was. I was the tallest one in my entire family, so it was a well embraced change of pace. I was a black guy, with skin the color of milk chocolate. Amos was sort of pale, but still looked healthy. He didn’t have any facial hair, but I had a slight beard.

I could already tell we were going to make a great pair.

We made it to his home, and it was not what I had imagined. It was actually much larger than I had anticipated. We walked up a few stone steps to his front door and he let me inside. It was very modern and spacious. “Your house is amazing,” I said. He laughed.

“Yeah, I do pretty all right for myself.” He took my bags from me and directed me to follow him. We walked down a hallway, stopping outside of a closed door. He told me to go on in and I obeyed. I entered a bedroom that was small, but nicer than the room I had at home. “This is your personal room, so feel free to arrange things however you like.” I had thought I would be staying with him in his bedroom, but I guess we weren’t much of a couple. “How about I show you the rest of the house?” he asked.

“Yeah, that’d be cool,” I said.

After that, he gave me the grand tour. He showed me the kitchen and told me I could eat anything I wanted, whenever I wanted. He added that he didn’t think I’d ever be that in need of a snack. I got hard thinking about him filling me with food, making sure I was never hungry. I wanted it so badly, and I was finally going to get it.

He continued with the tour, taking me through the back door. There was a pool in his yard and a tall fence that obscured his property from the neighbors. “You’ve even got a pool,” I said, majorly impressed.

“Perfect for skinny dipping,” he said. I laughed, getting even more erect. His whole aura was like an aphrodisiac. We went back into the house, where he showed me the master bathroom, which was ridiculously grandiose. The tub was huge. There was even a separate shower that had room for at least three people. 

“Come on,” he said. “This is somewhere you’ll really love.” I followed him down some stairs to the basement, which had the laundry room, but also a home gym. He had a substantial amount of equipment.

“This is amazing,” I told him. I walked over to a rack of weights, taking in their quality. Everything was in pristine condition.

“Hope you’re ready to use those,” he said with a wink. Amos was everything I had imagined and more. I was excited to get big for him. I wanted to make him happy. Having gotten to know him online for nearly three years made me all the more ready to get to know him in person. I wanted to do whatever he asked of me, to submit to whatever he asked, and to grow. “Let’s get you something to eat,” he said. I followed him back upstairs to the kitchen and he pulled out a large salad from the refrigerator. He placed it in front of me, along with three types of salad dressing. “I didn't know what type you liked,” he said. “I’m going to heat up this tray of lasagna I made, so you just eat that while you wait, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” I said, picking up the ranch dressing and a fork. He chuckled lightly. He busied himself reheating the lasagna and I greedily shoved the leafy greens into my mouth. He placed a basket of warm rolls next to me. He’d heated them up after getting the lasagna situated in the oven. I took one and bit into its soft, buttery goodness.

He poured me a glass of milk, which didn’t taste like 2%. It was kind of sweet. He sat across from me at the table. The lasagna had another fifteen minutes in the oven. “It’s really good so far,” I said through a mouthful of food. “I’m excited for the lasagna.”

“Well, you have to eat it all,” he said. “I’m looking to be impressed.” I swallowed more of the salad, feeling a little full already.

“All of it?” I inquired. He laughed. He was really attractive, and his laugh was no different. He was thin, but his body had an obvious muscularity. He had rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up to reveal well-toned forearms. I was sure he used his home gym regularly. There was a treadmill down there and I didn’t think it was for me.

“I’m trying to be hospitable,” he said, smiling playfully. He was teasing me. “You wouldn’t want to offend me, would you?”

“N-no, of course not!”

“That’s what I thought.”

A little after that, he pulled the lasagna from the oven, allowing it to cool as I finished the salad, which had been in a large serving bowl. He cut a piece for himself and put it on a plate. He placed the rest of the dish in front of me. I wanted nothing more than to impress him, so I dove into the lasagna with gusto. I made it halfway through before I thought I was going to pass out.

He kept refilling my glass of milk, having finished his portion a while ago. He sat across from me at the table and watched me silently. “I-I don’t think I can finish it,” I said breathlessly.

“I think you can,” he said. “You don’t want to be rude, right?”

“Yeah, right. I-I guess—I’ll keep eating.” He had a quality that made me want to be better. I didn’t want to let him down. I made it through another ten forkfuls. He stood up and walked to my side of the table.

“You’re going to eat that,” he said, standing right behind me. I could feel his breath on my neck as he spoke. His voice was firm and authoritative, but also managed to be supportive. It was driving me wild and even though my stomach was in pain, I had an even more painful erection. “You know you want to get big. You’ve got to eat up if you want to get bigger.” 

He was right. I had to finish this. I leaned over the dish and began to shovel the rest of the pasta into my mouth, sauce covering my cheeks. This went on for a couple more minutes before I was finished.

Maybe it was the athlete in me, but I even took the last roll and cleaned the dish before downing the rest of my milk. I couldn’t believe I’d eaten like that. After all of that eating I was ready to sleep. He let me clean up and go to bed, and I was grateful for it.

The next morning, I made my way to the kitchen and found a dozen donuts waiting for me. There was an assortment of flavors, and I was enjoying being able to sample each one. I couldn’t believe I could eat again after last night, but I was actually hungry. I also helped myself to some more milk.

I found a note on the refrigerator that said the donuts were pre-breakfast. I wasn’t too sure what that meant, but I assumed Amos would have me eating something else soon. I was excited at the idea of eating so much. When I lived at home I tried to eat a lot, but I wasn’t able to eat as much as this—not nearly as much as this.

A little while later I heard someone enter through the front door. It was Amos and he had three bags of fast food. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he said with a smile as he walked into the kitchen. “This is for you—ah, good, you got the donuts.”

“They were really good, thanks,” I said. He smiled at me, and I felt my stomach flutter. It was a mixture of attraction to him and anticipation of what else he’d expect me to fit in there. I couldn’t believe how ordinary my life had been up until this point.

“Before you get started on breakfast, there are some things I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Yes, that’s fine, anything.”

“All right,” he said. He had me come into the living room and I sat on the sofa. “There are some things I need from you, things that’ll make me happy and hopefully you’ll like them too.”

“Okay,” I said. I was listening intently, but I was also thinking about what else he had gotten me for breakfast. I could smell the grease. I turned my attention back to Amos.

“When you’re in the house I want you to wear nothing but underwear, be it briefs or jockstraps. I want to be able to look at you.”

“I like the sound of that,” I said. He laughed. I really was okay with that. He was making me horny, and it was only because he was being so controlling. I knew that was something I was looking for, but damn, it was arousing in action.

“I need you to follow a workout schedule and I need you to eat everything I tell you too.” He paused for a moment, in what I was assuming was an attempt to choose the phrasing of his next statement. “You can only cum when I let you. No masturbating.” I nodded in agreement. That was going to be way more difficult than the underwear thing. “I also want to record your stats every month because, honestly, I think it’s really erotic.” I stood up and looked at him seriously. I pulled my t-shirt over my head and pulled off my pajama bottoms. I stood in a pair of white low-rise briefs. “Fuck kid, can you be any more adorable.”

After we discussed the guidelines he wanted me to follow, I ate my actual breakfast. I had six sausage biscuits and eight hash browns. I had a small plate full of ketchup next to me, which helped make things go down easier. I was dipping the hash browns and biscuits in a precise pattern, lubricating them with the sweet tomatoey goodness. I was eating so fast I didn’t notice I was getting full until I’d eaten around four of the sandwiches, but Amos made sure I finished them all. He also had me drink a fuck ton of his special milk as well.

“In the future, we’ll do this when your tank is empty,” Amos said, leading me back into the living room to take my stats. “I was just too excited to get you fed this morning.”

“I’m so full,” I said, rubbing the side of my bloated stomach.

He just smiled, knowing he was the reason I could barely catch my breath. He had me step on a scale, and I weighed in at 164 pounds. I stood in my underwear as he measured me, my stomach rounded out from all the food I had eaten. His touching me all over had my penis stiffening. “Somebody’s excited,” he said laughing.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” I said with a toothy grin.

“Remember, we’ve got to hold off on that,” he reminded me, looking up from taking my measurements. “But don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you.” He stood up and looked down at me. He observed me intently for a moment, his eyes a beautiful hazel color with intense flecks of green. His nose was thin, but large. It was complemented by his fleshy lips and strong jawline.

His hand found its way to my bulge. He grabbed onto it through my underwear. “Can I kiss you?” I asked. He smiled at me before leaning down to kiss me. I wanted to do so much more with him. I wanted to let him fill me up from behind just as much as he had been filling me up with food. I felt like I was ready to explode. He bit my lower lip softly and then slowly stopped kissing me.

“Well, let’s get you started with that workout.” He removed his hand from my crotch, and I heard myself whimper. I’d never made that sound before, but Amos had me whimpering. It excited me how badly I wanted him, how badly I wanted him to want me. I’d do whatever necessary to impress him, to make it impossible for him to resist the body he was going to build. I was going to be Amos’ monster. An absolute beast.

Fuck. My dick was already leaking as I made my way to my room to grab some socks and my gym shoes. We made our way to the basement, my dick still rock hard. He was also in his own workout gear. He explained to me that he’d be running and doing light weight training.

I was going to be doing more hardcore workouts and when things were too serious, he’d spot me. My boner lasted until about halfway through my workout, but once I really got into it, I barely remembered how horny I was. I had rarely ever pushed myself so hard. I couldn’t believe how sore I was after. It felt amazing and I was shocked that come lunch time I was famished. I felt ready to eat everything he had to throw at me.

Over those first two weeks I was falling hard for him. I was also incredibly excited for my upcoming monthly weigh-in. I had taken to getting up in the middle of the night to have a snack or two. I wanted him to be impressed with me, and I wanted results. I was finally realizing my dreams.

I could barely touch my penis without wanting to masturbate. I was very accustomed to freely jacking off whenever I felt the urge. When I was just messaging Amos online, I would find myself doing it two or three times a night. I found that while I was eating or lifting, the compulsion to masturbate was numbed. I wondered if Amos knew that’d happen.

My days consisted of pre-breakfast and then actual breakfast, a workout, lunch, another workout, dinner, and post-dinner. There were also my late-night snacks and whatever else I ate during the day. I was feeling so different and like a better version of myself. When my first weigh-in arrived, I was more than excited. I stood in a red jock that Amos had gotten me a little over a week ago. It cradled my junk in a way that made me more than aware that I hadn’t masturbated in a month.

He had me step onto the scale and I felt his eyes all over me. I knew Amos turned me on beyond belief, but it was nice in these moments to see that I made him just as horny. I wondered if he masturbated at all. “Shit, Russ, I thought you were looking big this month but not this big,” he said. “181 pounds.” I flexed my arms a little and he smiled.

“I did good, huh?” I asked, stepping off of the scale. He walked close to me and placed his warm hands on my waist. My stomach was no longer flat. I looked bloated at all times, but in actuality I was finally getting fatter. I felt stronger than ever, and the gainer shakes after my workouts were doing nothing but good things for my waistline.

“Your workouts are going well,” he said as his hands moved down my sides and towards my ass. “And I think I know where all that weight is going.” I felt my face heat up. “You must be doing extra squats to get this ass so big.” He grabbed my backside harder than I expected. I had been hard since I stepped on the scale, and I felt pre-cum spurt from the head of my dick.

He kissed me, and I felt my body relax in ecstasy. The smallest touches from Amos were enough to send me into a headspace that I had never experienced in my entire life. I longed to be close to him always. I still stayed in my own room, longing for the day he’d invite me into his own bed. Amos pulled away slowly. “Don’t stop,” I pleaded.

“You deserve something special,” he said. His face was as red as I’d ever seen it. Was he finally going to give me what I’d been dreaming of? I was still a virgin, only ever been fingered by some boy just as sexually immature as I was. We had both been on the wrestling team in high school. Last I heard, he was dating some girl he met at the community college in my parents' town. Amos walked towards the kitchen, and I took that as an indication to follow him. “Eat this.” He had brought out a beautiful pink box. It looked like it was from some super fancy bakery.

“I’ll eat it,” I said seriously. I opened the box and inside were six large cupcakes of varying flavors. He knew I loved a variety. I picked up one as we stood in the middle of the kitchen. I looked at him as I bit into the sweet treat.

“That’s chocolate vanilla swirl,” he said with a smirk. I laughed as I licked icing from my lips. It was a really delicious cupcake. He got on his knees as I was finishing the chocolate vanilla swirl cupcake.

“What—what’re you doing?” I asked.

“If you can talk right now, you should be eating,” he said. He pulled the jock to the ground and my dick bobbed freely for a moment. I started on the next cupcake. It had a lot of little red sprinkles. It was kind of spicy and very chocolaty. I shoved the rest of the treat into my open mouth, and he wrapped his lips around the head of my penis. I immediately felt pre-cum spurt into his mouth. I wasn’t going to last long. I started eating the rest of the cupcakes like a mad man. When I thought about the food, I wasn’t completely focused on the best blowjob of my existence. I didn’t want to cum too quickly.

Amos stopped sucking me off and began to lightly kiss my gut. I took another oversized bite of a cupcake, this one lemon flavored. I focused on the citrus, finishing it in another large bite. I felt so greedy eating like this and that was turning me on even more. I reached for the next one—red velvet. I looked down, and Amos looked up at me, his eyes unlike I’d seen them ever before. He loved this. He loved what he was doing to my body. He watched as I shoved a majority of the red velvet cupcake into my mouth. He moved his hand to my ass, squeezing one of my plump cheeks.

“Finish ‘em off, Russ,” Amos directed before bringing his mouth back towards my dick. He licked my shaft slowly, popping the head back in his mouth. I had to grab the next one, to prevent a premature eruption—s’mores. Graham cracker and marshmallow flooded my taste buds.

I hastily reached for the last cupcake. I bit into it, surprised by a substantial amount of banana pudding that was on the inside. This was a banana cream pie cupcake. I got some of the pudding on my fingers and I licked them quickly, swallowing the remaining morsels of the baked good. My moist hand found the side of my gut and I rubbed it gently. This was the biggest I’d ever been, but also the smallest I’d ever be again.

“I ate them all, sir,” I said breathlessly. He slowed, pulling his mouth away for a moment to take me in.

Without the eating to distract me, I felt it happening before I could angle my path of ejaculation away from him. I moaned loudly, my toes curling, as I shot my load in Amos’ direction. Some hit him on the chin and the rest covered the front of his lavender dress shirt. I felt it coming out of me for what felt like a whole minute. “I’m so sorry. It—it was an accident,” I said all flustered. He stood up and began to unbutton his shirt. He stood shirtless in front of me, and I was immediately turned on again. Amos had a well-defined body, which was long and slightly hairy. His hair looked well-groomed, and I wanted to touch his chest and the hair on his stomach. His stomach reminded me of my wrestling days, when I actually had abs.

“Somebody got a little excited.” He laughed softly, and I felt myself smile. He wasn’t mad at me.

I couldn’t believe it, but I was suddenly very, very hungry.

That weigh-in was in May and we were now halfway through the month of June. The weather had gotten really hot, but I spent most of my time in the house. I only ever went outside to swim around in the pool. We hadn’t gone out in public, but I wasn’t too concerned. I was focusing on eating and lifting. I was feeling really big, the largest I had ever been in my life. My capacity had increased, and I was going through gainer shakes like there was no tomorrow. I probably had at least four or five every day.

Amos had taken a lot of time off to stay with me that first month and a half, but now he was working a lot more. He was a realtor and sold luxury homes. He had things delivered for me to eat around lunch time. I had eaten a lot of pizza and pastas. He’d bring me desserts in the pink boxes every other evening. He was a really sweet guy.

“Russell,” he started. “I want you to go out more. You don’t have to stay in the house all day.” I had always assumed that was what I was supposed to do.

“Oh—that’s cool,” I said. “But what would I do?”

“Go out to eat,” he said with a smirk. “I actually ordered you some summer clothes.” I had no clue he had done that. “But you don’t have to wear them if you don’t want to.” Why would I not want to wear them? He went to retrieve them from his bedroom. There were a lot of shorts and tanks. There was also a pair of sweats that looked like they were made out of the material of a wrestling singlet. I was wearing a jockstrap, so I could easily put on an outfit.

I grabbed a pair of navy shorts and pulled them on. They were really tight. I would normally be much too bashful to wear something like this in public. My thighs looked huge in the shorts. I got them up over my ass, which was actually getting much bigger. Amos was right about me doing a lot of squats, but it was only because I knew he liked my butt. I could feel that the crack of my ass was not fully covered. I pulled on a tank top, which was white with thin blue horizontal stripes. For the first time in my life, I truly felt big. My bulge was a little obscene, but I was fully covered.

“Do you, uh like, this kind of outfit?” Amos asked, clearing his throat. “I could always get you something else—less revealing.”

“Do I look good in this?” I asked.

“Of course you do!” he exclaimed, his face reddening. I walked closer to him, feeling the most monstrous I’d ever felt, and wrapped my arms around him. He placed one of his hands on my head, the other on my ass. We stood that way for a long time. It was really nice, feeling his body against mine. “Let’s go out. Get your shoes on.”

I went to my room and put on socks and sneakers. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the door of my bedroom and stopped for a moment. I was becoming what I had always wanted. I flexed my arms for myself before my hands found their way to my gut. It was nice having so much size.

I turned to the side and saw how it stood out from my body. I was getting myself worked up. I lifted my tank up and saw how beefy my gut was. It made me want to eat. My pecs were large, but all the lifting I did couldn’t stop fat from accumulating there as well. My ass was always huge, and it had gotten a great deal beefier in the past two months. I finished up with my self-appraisal and went to meet Amos.

We drove in his car and ended up at a public park. I hadn’t been in a large crowd in some time, and it made me a little anxious. I suddenly didn’t feel that big, and I even felt naked in my outfit. I wanted really badly to grab his hand, but I fought the urge.

There were booths and food trucks lined up and down the sidewalk offering a variety of different foods. It was barely six o’clock. He patted me on the stomach and smiled. “I’ve got cash,” he said. “Let’s try lots of stuff.”

We walked from booth to booth getting different foods. He’d buy a large sample and nibble off of it before allowing me to demolish the rest. I was his human garbage disposal. We had Greek food and Mexican. I tried something called a pierogi and had a plateful of BBQ. There was a booth full of soul food that reminded me of home, and I had a great deal of that.

He was really fun to be around. He liked to people watch and would make really funny comments. There was this guy who was on roller blades in a Statue of Liberty costume that we watched for a while. “I bet he just has a blast,” Amos said with a chuckle. “Not a care in the world. Living for liberty and freedom, skating through the park annoying soccer moms and joggers alike.”

“He’s serving his country,” I added. “A true American hero.” He laughed for a while at that one, and it made me feel good. After that we went to get ice cream. I was already painfully full but pushing past that point made me feel good. On our way to the ice cream stall, I rubbed my belly mindlessly. A woman looked at me a little disgustedly and then away quickly. I felt my face heat up with embarrassment. “She must be so jealous of me. I’m with the hottest guy in the whole park.”

“Ha, yeah,” I replied, feeling a little weird.

“Let’s get that ice cream,” he said gently. He ordered me a huge cone and it was actually pretty tasty. His was different than mine and he offered to let me taste his as well. He held the ice cream up to my face and I took a lick. I could see he was turned on and so I ate a little more. I had already finished mine, being the fat boy that I was. Before he knew what was up, I had almost completely slurped down most of his dessert. “Do—do you want the rest?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said as I took the cone from him. I finished it quickly.

“Man,” he started. “I feel so indecent getting a boner in a public park.” Amos rarely talked like this, and it was getting me going. We walked slowly next to one another. He leaned closer into me before he spoke again. “And watching that huge bubble butt of yours shifting back and forth in those little shorts makes me want to lick you all over.”

I was getting an erection, and in these shorts that would be a problem. I tried hard to stay calm, but I was semi-erect. “Amos, don’t say that. I–I get too excited.”

“I know how you get,” he said. “You’re horny all the time and the fact you’re making so much progress turns you on even more, doesn’t it?” He grabbed a handful of my ass, and my penis was no longer just semi-erect. I wanted him to fuck me. “You’re becoming this big strong bull, but you know I’m still the one taking care of you.” I once again whimpered like a dog, a sound I found myself making much more frequently. I was feeling so submissive, and I wanted Amos to dominate me.

“Amos, I–I like that you take care of me.” He removed his hand from my butt.

“I do a good job, don’t I?” he asked. “And I always will, because you’re mine.” I nodded quickly. A man who had been walking near us cleared his throat theatrically. We ignored him and made our way back to Amos’ car. On the way home he bought me two double cheeseburgers, a large fry, and a milkshake.

I ate everything. 

Sometime in July I asked him what I could do that’d turn him on even more. He was pretty bashful about telling me at first, but I pulled it out of him. He was a fan of men that were intimidating but he could still be dominant over. So, I ended up getting some piercings and he wondered if I’d get my hair cut a certain way.

It all happened in one day, and at first, I was a little nervous. I got my nipples pierced first, and then my ears. I also got a mohawk fade. My beard had gotten much thicker as well. I was really digging the new me.

I’d be the first one to admit that I did look a great deal more intimidating. He couldn’t wait for the nipple piercings to heal. I had the feeling Amos was getting more and more amped up to actually fuck me.

By August I weighed over 200 pounds for the first time in my life. Amos was more than happy when the scale told him I was 219 pounds. I had taken to eating even more than ever before and Amos could barely believe it. I felt unstoppable. I was a beast. His beast.

“My family wants to meet you,” Amos said dryly one afternoon in mid-August. I never really considered the fact that Amos could even have a family. He seemed so independent that I imagined he was one day put on the earth as an adult. “They want me to host the Labor Day party this year, because of the pool.”

“I don’t think I’m ready for that. I’d be too nervous.” I drank from a shake made from protein powder, ice cream, and whole milk. “What if they don’t like me?”

“You’re the nicest guy I’ve ever met. I doubt they’d dislike you.”

“But—but, what about how—”

“How you look?” he asked. I nodded. “You look fucking spectacular. I’m not ashamed of you in any way. I actually want to show you off every chance I get, so everyone knows I’m with such a stud.”

“It’s your family, Amos. They’re more important than some strangers on the street.”

“Let me be perfectly clear,” he started, sounding even more serious than before. It’s like he had some sort of power in which he could make his voice soothing yet commanding. “I live my life for myself. You and me, we’re a package deal. They’ll treat you with respect or they can leave. Simple as that. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” I replied, the front of my jock bulging as my dick hardened. I was nervous and excited at the same time. Amos saw me as something other than some guy he was fooling around with. He respected me enough to introduce me to his family as his boyfriend. “I’ll do whatever you ask.”

“Good boy,” he said, patting me on the tummy. “I guess we’ve got a party to plan.”

Leading up to Labor Day we found lots of fun things for the party. It wouldn’t be a lot of people, but Amos planned an incredibly large menu. He described all the things that would be prepared and how much he expected me to eat.

We went to shop for swimsuits, and even though I already had one or normally swam naked, he insisted I get another one. I ended up getting a lime green pair of classic cut trunks. I felt like they would be too revealing for a family function, but he told me they were perfectly fine.

My ass was large and firm, and even with the XL swimwear I was not fully covered. It was the curse of having such a large lower body. I felt like my bulge was a little much, but I did feel really attractive. My pecs rounded out into large mounds of muscle and fat. My gut was usually always full of food as I took my job as his greedy man-beast very seriously. That morning was the start of September and at my weigh-in I had made it to nearly 230 pounds. I hardly recognized myself anymore, but I wanted more. I wanted to be bigger, stronger, and fatter—to be the ideal man of Amos, as well as myself.

We bought my suit as well as a very nice pair of orange trunks for Amos that went halfway up his muscular thighs. We made our way home to have dinner, and with the events of the day I wanted to outgrow my new swimsuit.

The night before his family would be coming over, he presented to me a chain collar and a lock. “It’s waterproof,” he said with a shy smile and red cheeks. “If you’d be willing, I’d like for you to wear this.”

I took it from him and draped it around my neck. The chain was thick and slightly cold. It felt heavy, but I liked the weight of it. I clicked it in place and grabbed the lock for a moment. He was turning me into a total badass. “I feel extra cool,” I said.

“I have the key,” he said. He pulled a much thinner chain from under his dress shirt, and I saw that on the end of it was a small key to the lock around my neck. “You’re mine, you badass.” We smiled at one another and then I had two thick gainer shakes.

I had to look my best for the party.

The next day he woke up early to fire up the grill. He would be making chicken wings, brats, burgers, and ribs. I was busy in the kitchen slicing fruit and making other side dishes. He wanted me to make macaroni and cheese when I told him how much butter and cheese my mother’s recipe required. “Oh, you need some of that,” he said. “I should get you to eat some of that every week. Then you’d really get some meat on those bones.”

His family would arrive at about noon. I was nervous, sure, but also kind of excited. Amos was an incredible guy, so his family had to be a good one. I wore my lime green trunks and a yellow tank. I was very vibrant.

Everything was ready at around eleven-thirty. We busied ourselves setting things up and his family arrived right on time. That seemed like a quality all of the Stanton’s possessed. His parents, Freddie and Kathy, were very nice, and tall. His mom was a little taller than I was and Freddie had to be at least 6’4” because he was taller than Amos. Amos had two younger brothers as well. The middle brother looked just like Amos and had a wife of his own. His name was Harris, and the youngest brother was named Bud. He was only two years younger than I was.

“Amos, so good to see you,” said Julia, the wife of Harris. “And it’s nice to meet you too, Russell.” I was surprised she already knew my name. I returned the sentiment before Amos interjected.

“The food is ready so let’s eat while it’s hot.” We all shuffled out to the patio and sat. The conversation was good, but Bud didn’t talk much. He seemed distant, but I took it as how I had been when I was still at home.

I ate a brat in three bites and before I could finish chewing another found its way to my plate. I had mac and cheese piled high on my plate along with other sides. Everyone had finished eating yet I was going strong. The conversations continued and things were going great.

Sitting in the patio chair and shoveling food into my mouth I felt the tank straining against my gut. I could even feel my gut on my lap. I loved how I felt. I loved that I was the biggest guy at the party. When everyone else was preoccupied Amos gave me a pat on the stomach.

“I think they really like you,” he said quietly. His hand rubbed my belly slowly. “But I wish they’d fucking leave so I could feed my boyfriend in peace.” I was semi-erect and tried to reign it in.

I thought about how when I was eating, I wasn’t as horny. “I’m gonna get the ice cream sandwiches,” I said. “Maybe your family will want some.” I made my way into the kitchen when I noticed Bud and Kathy talking on the sofa. They hadn’t noticed me entering.

“Mom, he’s like some beast,” Bud said. “Like, he wears chains and stuff. Who does that?”

“He’s only two years older than you, Bud,” she replied. “He also seems really sweet.”

“He’s only twenty-one? How?” Bud questioned in awe. “He could probably break Amos in half if he wanted. I bet they’re into some freaky shit.”

“Oh, stop it, Bud. Don’t swear and don’t talk about your brother and his boyfriend having sex.” I was slightly taken aback. I hadn’t considered the idea that Bud was so quiet because he didn’t care for me. I cleared my throat loudly and offered them some ice cream sandwiches.

They both looked surprised to see me and Mrs. Stanton was noticeably embarrassed.

“No,” Bud said quickly, surprisingly more flustered than his mom. “That’s okay.” I began to retreat back to the patio before he stopped me.

“All right,” I said, box of ice cream sandwiches in hand.

“Actually, wait,” Bud called, standing.

“What’s up?” I asked. He’d made his way over to me and he stood looking down at me slightly. Amos really came from a family of giants. He studied me closely and—I might have been sorely mistaken—but I felt like he was looking at me like how I normally looked at Amos. He admired me in some regard, and it was actually really cool.

“I’ll take two of those if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, Bud,” I said. “You gotta eat big to get big.”

After that, Bud stuck to me like glue. He asked me about my diet and my workout regimen. I wasn’t as bold as Amos, so I gave him a heavily edited version of my routine. We all swam around and chatted. If I had to make a complaint, my swimsuit rode up a lot. Normally it wouldn’t have mattered, but I didn’t think the entire Stanton clan wanted a glimpse of my beefy glutes in too little swim trunks.

It was a good time, and I was glad Amos allowed me to become such an intimate part of his life. I had even more fun after they all left. Amos told me he didn’t want to see any leftovers.

There weren’t any.

My life with Amos only continued to improve as time went on. I hadn’t made it home for the holidays like I initially told my family I would. I missed Christmas, New Years, and Easter. If I were to be honest with myself, I didn’t really want to see my family. I didn’t know how they’d react to my lifestyle changes.

“We’re worried about you,” my mother said to me over the phone in late April. It had been about a year since I had come to live with Amos.

“We talk every month,” I said, knowing where this conversation was going. “I just haven’t found a good time to come see you guys.”

“Well, Bobby is graduating next month, and I expect you to come home to celebrate your brother earning his master’s.” Robert, who everyone called Bobby, was my middle brother. Terry was the oldest, and he had graduated from college five years ago. I loved my brothers, and I didn’t want Bobby to think I didn’t care about how hard he had been working.

“Mom, I—I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it. I’ll check my schedule.” This whole situation was making me anxious.

“Is it money, Russell?” she asked. “It’s okay if you need to move back home. It’s okay.”

“No, mom—it’s got nothing to do with money.” I was over a hundred pounds bigger than when they last saw me. I didn’t want to hear what they had to say about my health or what I was doing to myself. 

“Maybe I need to send your father out there—” she started before I cut her off.

“Just text me the details. I’ll be there.”

“Everybody is going to be so excited,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. “You must be starving out there working so hard. This is going to be the biggest celebration this family has seen in a while. I’ll make sure I’ve got all your favorite foods, baby. I’ll text you, okay?”

“Okay, Mom. Talk to you later,” I said. She told me she loved me, and I returned the sentiment before hanging up the phone. I placed my hand on my stomach, feeling its bulk. I felt massive and tiny at the same time. I wished Amos was here, but he was working. He wouldn’t be home for a couple of hours.

At my April weigh-in I was just over 300 pounds. After seeing that number on the scale both Amos and I sat astounded. I had nearly doubled my initial weight in a year. He sucked me off twice after that. We still hadn’t had anal sex yet, but I had the feeling it would be happening soon.

Amos was a very by the book kind of guy. He had brought me products to prep myself for anal, so things wouldn’t be a mess when we did actually have sex for the first time. I hoped I could satisfy him in that way. I wanted to be what he wanted. Especially after he invested so much into me.

I ate my lunch and did my workout. I had become so accustomed to my daily routine that I had a lot of free time. I’d go out and about occasionally, and I noticed people would watch me a little more than they used to. I wondered if my family would actually say anything, or just stare at me like the people on the street did.

Looking at myself in a mirror after my workout I took in my body as I did every day. My shoulders were broad, meeting in the middle at my thick neck. Amos said that my face had gotten fat. He said that my head and neck had become a singular entity, and that without my beard it would be hard to distinguish the two.

Amos said that the cheeks on my face rivaled the cheeks on my backside. “When you smile,” he had said. “You can barely see your eyes.” It was true. I had always gotten squinty when I smiled, but with the extra weight I carried it was even more extreme.

My body impressed Amos in a multitude of ways, and he had things to say about all of me. The way my tits sagged, though still firm with muscle. How my butt had ruined nearly every pair of pants he bought me. The immense size of my thighs and calves. He even had things to say about how thick my hands and feet had gotten. I was getting hard thinking about Amos, about how he’d grab me.

He got in around five, pink bakery box in tow. “Russ, I’m home,” he called as he entered the kitchen. I made my way to where he stood. I was in a purple jock, my body on full display for him.

“Welcome home,” I said, walking close to him, ready to receive affection. He wrapped me in his arms, and I felt everything I had been worried about fall to the wayside, if only for a moment.

“How’s my big guy today?” he asked, kissing the top of my head.

“Not good,” I said, dreading having to talk about my intended trip home. “I talked to my mom today. I have to go home for my brother’s graduation.”

“I know how nervous dealing with your family makes you,” he said, letting go of me and looking down at me. He smiled softly, trying his best to calm my nerves. “You had to see your family at some point. Don’t let it overwhelm you.”

“But—but what if they’re mad, or they want me to move back home?” I hated when I acted this way. I felt whiny, burdensome.

“You plan on leaving me?” he asked.

“No, sir,” I answered. “I never want to leave you.”

“Then they’ll just have to accept how much you’ve grown and the life you’ve set up for yourself.” I nodded. He was right. He always was. “Do you want me to go with you?”

I felt my face light up. I didn’t want to burden him with having to meet my family, not yet anyway. They’d be all over him, probably upset about my weight, not working, and being gay. “You would come with me, Amos?”

“Let me know the dates and I’ll take off from work.” I hugged him immediately, squeezing him much harder than I realized. He groaned loudly and I removed my arms from around him. He laughed, calming me even more. “You’ve got to be careful. You know you can break me in half.”

The next month Amos and I drove the two hours to my hometown. The entire ride he had me eating snacks. And I do mean the entire ride. Chips, trail mix, snack cakes, soda, sandwiches. When we pulled up outside of my parents’ place, I was next level bloated.

The first of the month was last week, and my weigh-in was somewhat disappointing. Maybe it was the stress of the visit, but I hadn’t been going as hard as I’d been the last couple of months. I couldn’t bring myself to eat my late-night snacks and I was barely getting through one gainer shake a day.

Amos didn’t say anything, but his lack of enthusiasm was like a dagger through the heart. I’d been working so hard, and I’d nearly doubled my starting weight in a year, but it didn’t feel like enough. I feared that if I continued to disappoint him, he’d look for someone who could better live up to his expectations.

“Do you want to grab the bags now or later?” Amos asked.

“We can come back for them later.” I wanted to make sure any potential escape was as swift as possible. There was no need to bring luggage into the house when we’d probably be leaving soon anyway.

We walked up the driveway to the front door, Amos behind me. My hands and feet were numb with cold, even though it was a sunny Friday afternoon in May. I was in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that probably shouldn’t have been so tight. You could see the outline of my belly button and my pierced nipples.

I stood frozen, staring at the doorbell. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t help feeling like some sort of freak, a disappointment. They wouldn’t accept me like this, and it felt ridiculous to welcome their disapproval. We shouldn’t have come all this way for something that could have been avoided. Maybe that was foolish of me, thinking I’d never have to see my family again, but it was better than this.

“Ring the bell,” Amos said softly. “Whatever happens, you know that you’ve got me. I promise.”

“Okay,” I replied, ringing the bell quickly before I chickened out. There was some slight shuffling, and then the door opened suddenly.

It was both of my parents, which wasn’t a normal occurrence. I think they both came to the door because they were expecting me. We hadn’t seen each other for over a year at this point. They were absolutely silent for much longer than could be considered normal.

“Uh, hey Mom. Hey Dad.”

My mother laughed awkwardly, turning towards my dad to exchange a glance before turning back to me. She looked behind me at Amos before she finally spoke.

“Well,” she said, laughing again. “Look at you.”

“Damn boy,” my dad added. “Your mom thought you were out there starving. You ain’t missed a meal since you left here.” Amos chuckled behind me. Of course he’d think that was funny. He was the reason I hadn’t missed any meals.

“Come in, boys,” my mom said. “Wait, where are your bags? Don’t tell me you aren’t staying.”

“They’re in the car,” I said, the warmth returning to my hands and feet. I was sure they’d have a lot of questions, and they’d probably talk about this for an hour as they laid next to each other before bed tonight, but they weren’t pushing me away. “I’ll grab them.”

I turned, so I could walk back down the driveway. “Damn, he got more ass than you,” my dad commented, patting my mom on the behind. Like my t-shirt, the sweats I wore outlined every curve of my body. The cheeks were slightly separated by the fabric, highlighting the heft of each. I looked up at Amos, who was smirking slightly. He really was enjoying my discomfort in this situation, the embarrassing comments from my father, the nervous glances from my mother. He was a bit of a sadist, and as weird as this whole situation was, I was kind of enjoying it too.

After bringing the bags into the foyer, it was obvious there were a bunch of other people in the house. I shouldn’t have been surprised. My mother loved celebrations, and this was my homecoming and my brother’s graduation. What better reasons to invite people over and throw a party?

Scattered throughout the living room were a bunch of my relatives. I saw my oldest brother Terry and his wife. She held their two-year old in her arms and was sporting a sizable baby bump. Bobby was wearing a sash that said “graduate” on it in gold lettering. His girlfriend was here too. I also noticed both sets of grandparents, some uncles, a few aunts, a plethora of cousins. They all looked at me like they’d spotted Bigfoot.

“Shit bro!” Bobby exclaimed. “You look like you ate your old self.” There was some laughter and nervous murmurs. I knew this was a make-or-break weekend. It was my reintroduction to my family, and I had to lay some things out on the table. In particular, I had to introduce Amos. I’m sure everyone was curious about the tall white guy who was towering over us all.

“It’s good to see everyone,” I started. “City life has been treating me well. This guy here is named Amos, and he and I are—we’re—uh, seeing each other.”

Nobody really said anything until my nephew, still in his mother’s arms, waved in our direction and said in his little voice, “Hi Amiss. I’m John.”

Amos returned the wave. “Nice to meet you, John.”

After that, some of my relatives came up to us and we talked for a few minutes. I excused the both of us and we made our way to my bedroom upstairs. We needed to set the bags down and have a moment to ourselves. I wondered what Amos would have to say about everything that happened.

I felt my body relax once the door was closed. After rummaging through his backpack, Amos just stood there, a satisfied smile on his face. He wore a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved collared shirt. He looked good even in casual clothing. His torso was long and lean, and the sleeves of the shirt hugged his arms seductively.

“Russ,” he said in a low voice. “This might not be appropriate timing, but I need to fuck you.”

“What?” He couldn’t be serious. Twenty of my family members were a floor below us, and this was the time he felt prepared to fuck me? He made his way closer to me, reaching out to squeeze one of my nipples through the fabric of my t-shirt. Ever since the piercings healed a few months ago, they’d become an extra-sensitive source of arousal. I was already getting hard, and he’d barely touched me. “Amos, we can���t,” I whined.

“You don’t want this?” he asked. 

“I mean—Amos,” I said, trying to make a sensible decision. But his free hand found its way to my crotch, rubbing my dick gently through the fabric as he continued to work my nipple with his other hand. I closed my eyes, tilting my head back a bit.

“They all couldn’t believe their eyes,” Amos whispered, his voice clear and dripping with lust. Him wanting me so badly was making me feel valuable again. I wanted this more than anything, to be what he wanted. “Your dad doesn’t mince words, does he? ‘Damn, boy. You’ve got more ass than your momma.’”

He turned me around and we stood looking at our reflection in the mirror above the dresser in my room. He didn’t need to say anything. He simply needed to explore my body with his hands to let me know what he was thinking. The way his hands sat under my chest, holding each fatty pec in his strong hands, squeezing them, jiggling them. My nipples were as hard as my dick at this point, and I had no intention of stopping Amos anymore. Not like I ever really would’ve in the first place. He had the control. He always had, even when I thought I was making a choice, Amos was pulling the strings.

His hands caressed my stomach, cupping the bottom of my gut and holding the weight of it up before letting it drop. It was solid from the two hours of snacking, but it was usually firm. He squeezed it again and again in different sections, inspecting every piece of fat he’d managed to pack on my body.

He moved one hand away from my belly, and I could hear the buckle of his belt being undone. Then I felt his hardness pressing into my back, warm and incredibly stiff. I saw him slip a condom and a tiny bottle of lube from the front pocket of his jeans. He set them on the dresser before shimmying out of his pants. I could hear the buckle of his belt hit the floor so I knew his pants must have been around his ankles. He positioned his fingers in the waistband of my sweats and tugged gently, still pressing against me. I watched him closely in the mirror as he worked, my heart nearly beating out of my chest. I had wanted this since the day we met, and it was really going to happen. He tried pulling the sweats down, but the fabric got stuck around my thighs. I wiggled a little, causing the sweatpants to drop lower and allowing me to spread my legs a little bit further apart.

He placed his hands on my hips and I leaned forward, resting my palms on the top of the dresser. He gave my ass a smack and I could feel the sting of his palm resonate throughout my entire body. “Oh god,” I breathed.

“To think you’ve gotten this big in a year,” he said. “It only makes me wonder how much bigger I can make you.”

“You want me to get bigger?” I asked, losing myself in the foreplay.

“I know you’re not that tall, but you could get to at least 400 pounds and get around fine.”

“425,” I countered.

“450.”

He reached for the bottle of lube and opened it effortlessly. He squeezed some of the liquid onto his fingers and his dick, coating his member completely before spreading my cheeks to have access to my asshole. Slowly, he touched me with one finger, sliding it in gently. He worked my hole with the one finger for a few moments before sliding in another. His breathing was deep and intense, his face serious.

“I’ve got to put it in, Russ,” he said, looking at my face in the mirror. “Is that okay?”

I just nodded. He held one cheek in his hand, his dick in the other. He guided himself inside of me, the tip entering me gently. He stayed that way for a moment, not moving a muscle. I knew it was so he wouldn’t hurt me, but I felt perfectly fine. I needed more. I needed all of him inside of me. I pushed my ass against his front, taking in a majority of his dick in the process.

“Aw, fuck,” he muttered as I pounded my ass against his thighs. He gave my ass a loud slap. I was salivating. I could feel the pools of spit in my mouth, and I swallowed so as not to make a mess. Every time Amos let me ejaculate this past year, some sort of dessert was involved. I couldn’t help but crave some sort of sweet treat. What I wouldn’t give for a donut or one of those banana cream pie cupcakes. I pulled forward and pushed back again and again, his dick hitting what I could only assume to be my prostate. I was in a simple black jock, my dick barely cradled in the front cup, leaking pre-cum profusely. “Whoa, Russ. You don’t have to rush.”

“It feels so good, Amos,” I moaned. “I love your dick.” He just smirked, allowing me to continue my back-and-forth motion. We were at it for nearly ten minutes when Amos came. My dick was dribbling so much, when I went to reposition it, cum shot all over the mirror and dresser.

“Damn Russ.”

“Amos, I’m hungry.”

We got cleaned up after that and headed back downstairs. I was utterly dickmatized. Whatever my family talked to me about went in one ear and out the other. I just wanted to eat and get fucked again, but one of those things was too risky to attempt a second time, so I simply stuffed my face. Bobby walked up to me as I licked some chicken grease off my fingers. He just shook his head, chuckling to himself.

“What?” I asked. I was closer to Bobby than my oldest brother, so I really was worried about what he had to say about this whole situation.

“You’re not really the little brother around here anymore, are you?”

“I guess not,” I answered, laughing aloud. Leave it to him to make a joke. I appreciated it.

“You and the white dude—Amos,” he clarified, to show respect, “are into some freaky shit. You know we could kind of hear y’all thumping around up there, right?”

“Aw, well, that’s my bad, not his.” I did kind of take over up there. Hopefully they just heard the thumping and not anything we were saying.

“And I’m not judging,” he added, throwing up his hands. “You seem happier like this. He’s got to have something to do with that, yeah?”

Looking over at Amos, who was talking to Terry and his wife, I couldn’t help but notice that he fit in perfectly, even in a house full of people who were very different than he was. He did take care of me and make me feel valued. Reflecting on how long it took for us to actually meet up, I could kick myself for thinking that Amos could be anything less than amazing. He was my home now, my family. In one incredible year, my life would forever be changed for the better. And hey, maybe Amos would really get me to 450 pounds (but seriously, that probably was less of sex-talk and more of a promise. Amos was always a man of his word).

“Yeah,” I said, “I feel like when I’m with him, it’s where I belong.”

The End!

[lucagray813]

Shadow - Chapter 12

Title: In Sickness and in Health

Rating: T+

Word Count: ~10,000

Characters: Wukong, Macaque

Minor Characters: MK, Red Son, DBK, PIF

Relationships: Macaque/Wukong

Minor Relationships: Macaque & PIF & DBK, Wukong & DBK

Summary: Silly, yet sensible, discussions about condoms, a curse that transforms this chapter into a sickfic, and everyone being upset with Macaque for the lengths he'll go to for his loved ones.

Additional Tags: Developing Relationship, Acquired Disability, Slice of Life, DBK is called Niú, PIF is called Gōngzhǔ

CW: brief sex talk involving condoms & masturbation, sexual humour, suggestive language

If you want to skip those CWs just miss out the first section which is denoted with the line break --T+--

Link to AO3 Version

Chapter Navigation: First | Prev | Next

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--T+--

In truth, there was no real need to buy in food - the island provided more than enough to sustain everyone here and, if he was willing to put in a bit of effort, he could even make a lot of stuff from scratch but damnit it was just so much easier to buy pre-made noodles than it was to make them. And he'd be lying if he said he wasn't very partial to the variety of snacks that had been invented in the last hundred years or so.

He just couldn't be without his favourite peach chips.

Not to mention, his weekly cook offs with Niú required a lot of specific ingredients and so he felt he was perfectly justified in doing an online grocery shop every couple of weeks.

Rarely, did Macaque want or need anything bought in but still he offhandedly asked while he was tapping away on his tablet adding things to the basket. Macaque hummed a negative from behind him where he was grabbing some drinks and snacks for them before suddenly exclaiming, "Oh wait, no - get us some condoms."

He paused in his shopping to turn around and look at him with confusion, "Condoms?"

Deliberately misunderstanding him, Macaque explained, "Yeah rubbery things that you wear on your-"

"I know what they are, you ass! I meant, why do you want them? I mean, I'll get them but I didn't think we really needed them?"

STDs and pregnancy were not things they personally had to worry about and it wouldn't really make clean up any easier - a well placed shadow portal to god knows where handled the worst of it. And well... He'd sort of been scared of penetrative sex for the meantime anyway. Until he could figure out how to get his magic fully under control then he couldn't bring himself to risk it. So with all that in mind, he couldn't see why Macaque would want them.

Macaque handed him his tea as he explained, "We don't need them in the traditional sense, no, but there's something I want to try out that we'll need them for."

He had no clue what that could possibly be and he raised an eyebrow at Macaque as he sat down, "You want to share with the class?"

He didn't keep him guessing as he explained, "I've been thinking about our- well, my problem with magic sensitivity. Your magic cock ring idea is along the right lines but I don't like that it's messing with the flow of your magic. I'm sure eventually we could figure out how to use it safely but I think there's an easier way. You don't need to control your magic, we just need a barrier between it and me."

The never ending embarrassment his magic inhibitor idea brought him aside, he quickly clocked on, "And a condom is literally the barrier for the job. We would just need to figure how to use seals to modify it."

He posed thoughtfully as his mind started to quickly flip through potential solutions. A total magic barrier wouldn't be hard but that wasn't what they needed - some of his magic still had to be able to pass through for Macaque to feel it and that would take some experimenting to get right.

There was also the added difficulty of sealing something so awkward - it was doable it would just be a bit of a challenge but honestly it was the sort of challenge that appealed to him. Plenty of ideas for how to combine characters to make the seal were coming to mind and he was about two seconds away from heading to the library to start working on it.

He was brought back to the present by Macaque, "Yeah, exactly. First step is to actually buy some condoms though. How about you finish the shopping before going all mad seals scientist on me?"

He picked up the abandoned tablet from his lap a little sheepishly - he'd already forgotten all about it - but even as he started to search for them, he responded, "It's such a good idea - simple but effective. I'm kicking myself for not thinking of it. You've already started looking at it though, right? Have you put together any potential seals?"

"I've a couple ideas but not really put pen to paper for it yet. I figured you'd want in on the fun."

Oh, he couldn't wait to start looking at it properly but he was discovering he had a much more immediate problem, "Er, what condoms am I getting? There's a lot more choice here than I was expecting."

Sizes, texture, material, scent, taste, brand... It seemed never ending. Was there a need for so much variety?

Macaque shrugged, "Any one should be fine as long as it's the right size."

"Yeah, ok, but what's the right size? Like, listen to this list. They've got standard, regular, larger, XL, slim fit, magnum and then they've got stuff like iron grip and snugger fit tacked on... What should I get?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

A little incredulous he said, "This is your area of expertise, not mine!"

Macaque looked amused, "By area of expertise you mean sex? I'd be flattered but that really doesn't mean much coming from you. But for the record when I was having sex, condoms weren't a thing, my knowledge is pretty limited here. You literally have the internet at your finger tips though - just look it up."

He grumbled but he did just that and after a few minutes, he said, "Alright, I think I've got the gist of it but looks like it's best to measure myself...?"

Macaque grinned, pretending to reach towards him, "Want a hand?"

He slapped it away, "No, I don't "want a hand", you lecher! I can handle this myself!"

Macaque leaned back, still grinning, "Oh by all means. I love a good show."

He felt his face burn, "I'm not putting on a show! You can get lost while I deal with this!"

Macaque didn't move, "Aw, will you think of me at least?"

"No! Now get out of here!"

Honestly, he wasn't sure what he was going to do. The thought of touching himself made him want to squirm but his pride wouldn't let him ask for help now. He cursed himself.

Something must have given away how uncomfortable he really was because Macaque just sighed, "Or we could just do this the easy way. Summon a tape measure."

Warily, he pulled out some fur, "What easy way?"

He watched as Macaque drew the outline of a circle and then a separate straight line in the air with his magic, "There, those are your measurements."

He eyed them, "Are you sure?"

Macaque raised an eyebrow, "Well, I was trying to protect your delicate sensibilities but if you insist..."

The shadows merged and grew to become a very accurate 3-D model of his dick and he could only try to pretend he didn't find this nearly as embarrassing or weird as he did. He teased, "Wow. Must be good, if you've got it memorised like this, huh?"

"You really want me to answer that?"

No, he did not. He was sure anything Macaque said in response would be complimentary to the point of mortification and he would really like to sweep this whole fiasco underneath the rug as fast as possible.

He laughed nervously, "No, no. No need. I think I know the answer."

As quickly as he could he took the measurements and he quietly prayed that Macaque would be merciful and disappear the floating imitation as soon as he was done. There was definitely a moment where he clearly considered harassing him further but apparently he was feeling merciful today and he was extraordinarily grateful for it.

Armed with the correct measurements, he tapped on the first box of condoms of the right size and moved back to the home page, ready to finish the rest of the shopping. He cleared his throat, "Er, thanks. That- that was easier."

"I figured. I get the impression masturbating isn't really your thing."

He cringed slightly, "Yeah, not really. I'm not sure I've ever actually..." Curious despite himself he asked, "But you...?"

Macaque shrugged and leaned back, "Back in the day? Sure. I have tried recently to see if I can imitate what you do with your magic to try it on myself but results were middling at best."

He choked, "What? When?"

Macaque grinned, "Aw, were you wanting to watch? My bad."

"No, I didn't want to watch!"

He was admittedly a little curious, and maybe he could even learn a thing or two, but overall it wasn't appealing. On one hand, why would he want to watch when he could be involved? And on the other... Well, it just didn't sit right with him.

Macaque just laughed, "Your loss."

He ignored him and busied himself with the shopping for a moment before his curiosity got the better of him, "Why didn't it work?"

"Hm?"

He clarified, "You imitating my magic?"

"Oh. Well, for one thing it's hard to actually imitate your magic so there's a good chance I just wasn't doing it right and even if I was, our magic is just fundamentally different - magic type could just be all it boils down to. Or it could be that magic can't interact with itself like that. Who knows?"

All of that made total sense but the way Macaque's top left ear twitched told him that might not be the full story and he scrutinized him for a moment, "You sure that's all there was to it?"

A little embarrassed, he looked away, "Yeah, well, maybe the lack of emotion might have played a part."

He cooed as he got up in his face, "Aw, you like feeling how much I love you, you big sap."

Macaque huffed but he was quick to recover, and with a devilish spark in his eye, he responded, "Love's not the only thing I feel you know? Want to talk about those other feelings?"

He backed off and brought his tablet up to act as a barrier between them, "Would you look at the time? I really need to get this shopping done before we lose our slot."

Macaque followed after him, "Oh no, no, no. Your feelings are just so important to me. So much more important than getting our groceries at one instead of two. I want to hear all about how you feel when-"

He pushed at his face to shut him up, and the ensuing tussle quickly developed into a game of keepaway across the island.

Needless to say their shopping was late.

----

There was very little that he wouldn't do for MK but he was beginning to seriously rethink that stance because almost every single time he left the island at MK's request it ended badly - sometimes for both of them but usually just for him.

In the last few months alone he had been the victim of death traps, imprisoned in a pocket sized stone carving of a monkey, stranded in an underground labyrinth, lost half his tail and worst of all been put on stage to act as a distraction.

So, very understandably, he thought, he was wary when MK came knocking asking for his help. But he was unfortunately a little helpless in the face of his pleading. It would be a really quick half-a-day adventure, he'd said. You'll be back home in one-piece before you know it, he'd said.

And while his newly grown tail was still where it was supposed to be, it was of little comfort as he and MK shivered miserably in Red Son's lab as he checked them both over.

MK coughed violently before bemoaning, "How could we possibly have gotten sick this quickly? We were fine an hour ago. Is this what demon bugs are like?"

He sneezed and sniffled before responding, "We're not sick. We can't be. I don't get sick."

MK looked at him blearily, "What do you call this then?"

"A curse." They both looked up to Red Son scanning through the notes in his hand, "And quite a nasty one at that."

MK looked distressed, "A curse? Does that mean we're stuck like this?"

Red Son answered, "Until I can figure out how to undo it, yes. It shouldn't take me longer than a few days but in the meantime you will both have to remain here."

He scoffed and tried to stand up on shaking legs, "As if. Macaque will be home tonight, he'll be able to fix this. I'll just wait for him there."

He could feel the room get a little hotter as Red Son argued, "Macaque will not be able to undo this any faster than me! But if you want to leave then by all means - go suffer on that wretched island of yours!"

He was easy to ignore as he tried to summon his nimbus to him, it was proving a lot more difficult than normal, but after several false starts his beloved cloud was before him and he inelegantly collapsed on to it.

MK was alarmed and tried to stumble towards him, "Are you crazy? You can't fly in your condition! And what if something happens to you before Macaque gets back? Just stay here! We can sit and eat soup together!"

He just about found the energy to lift his head and look in MK's direction, an irate and concerned Red Son holding him upright, "No way, kid. Resting is the best medicine and there's nowhere more restful than home. Nothing's going to happen to me - I'm, like, a hundred times immortal, remember?"

Slumping heavily against Red Son, MK asked tiredly, "At least let Red Son take you home?"

He shook his head and affectionately, if not lethargically, pet his cloud, "Nimbus knows the way. Don't you, boy?"

He felt the cloud nuzzle into his hand and he buried his face against it, "That's right. Who's my good, fluffy boy?"

The disgust was clear in Red Son's voice, "Just leave already. I can't stand to look at this nauseating display for a moment longer."

He heard MK begin to protest but he fell silent at Red Son whispering something to him and finally conceded, "Alright but keep checking in, ok? Let me know you get back safe."

He held up a thumbs up before letting his hand fall and silently willed the cloud to take him home. The journey to his bed was a blur and he honestly couldn't remember if he had messaged MK or not but he didn't have the energy to care or the mental faculties to check.

All he wanted to do was curl up and will this miserable existence away. He was sure in all the millennia he'd been alive he'd never once gotten sick and he was not enjoying the experience. Everything ached, his brain was foggy, he was both too hot and too cold, and his face was just a misery of sweat, snot and tears.

When he found whoever had put this god awful curse together... Ugh, he didn't know what he'd do but it was going to be unpleasant that's for sure.

He slept in restless bursts and he found himself getting more distressed the longer this went on. Where was Macaque? Why wasn't he here? Surely, he was done with his trip to the Void by now? There was no way he had the focus for astral projection and after some halfhearted flailing he gave up on finding his phone.

Voice hoarse he took to trying to call for him but all it did was draw some of the monkeys to him and while he loved them dearly, their bedside manner and attempts to help just had him curling up in a ball and pleading for them to go away.

It felt like it was some time later when he groggily awoke to the feeling of a hand gently running through his hair and the sound of quiet reassurances. He managed a croaked, "Mac..." Before sluggishly trying to get closer to him, "Please... Make it stop..."

"We're working on it but I just wanted to check on you. You were crying in your sleep."

If he had been dreaming he couldn't remember it but he was almost certain he felt even worse than he had earlier but all he could do was bury his face into Macaque's lap and try not to sob.

"Hey, you're going to be ok. You think you're able to sit up and drink something?"

He shook his head but Macaque apparently hadn't been asking and while he was gentle in manoeuvring him it still left his head spinning and he panted against his shoulder when he was finally upright. He was allowed a moment to recover before a glass was placed against his lips with the instruction to drink slowly.

He recoiled immediately from the taste and his head pounded in protest and Macaque's voice was sympathetic, "I know but it's not a lot. Drink this and you can lie back down, ok?"

He really did try to get it all down but he started gagging before he could finish it and he could only be grateful he didn't immediately throw it all back up. Macaque rubbed circles on his back, "You're alright. That was it, you did it, you don't need to drink anymore. Once you're ready I'll help you lie back down."

It felt like a terrible injustice that lying down barely felt any better and he clung to Macaque's clothes weakly as he all but begged him not to leave.

"I'm right here, and I'll still be here when you wake up - just go back to sleep, ok?"

That was probably the last coherent thing he could remember before delirium started to set it - every time he woke up he had no idea where he was or what was going on and it was terrifying.

He had been convinced he was going to die and he had cried in terror as he pleaded with Macaque to save him, promising him he'd give him anything, would do anything if he kept him from the Ten King's deathly hold.

That's when he could recognise Macaque and remembered their current relationship at least. His mood had swung violently - tearful apologies quickly followed by angry accusations. He thinks at one point he might have mistaken him for his beloved master and he couldn't imagine the sort of agony that might have caused.

But at last he awoke to the feeling of the immortal peaches working their magic to heal a body that was no longer cursed. He let his head loll to one side and then the other and felt overwhelming relief at the sight of Macaque curled up asleep a short distance away.

He resisted the urge to reach out to him, not wanting to wake him after what must have been an exhausting ordeal. His eyelids felt heavy and he didn't fight it as he was pulled back under.

When he finally woke up properly it was to an empty bed and as he pushed himself up, his eyes fell upon the glass of water and the immortal peach sitting next to it. He drank the water faster than he meant to but he was suddenly unbearably thirsty, he managed to eat the peach a bit slower but in no time at all he was gingerly getting out of bed and grimacing at how badly he needed a shower.

He rubbed at his face before shuffling into the living room and was very disappointed to find Macaque wasn't there. He made his way to his bedroom door and hesitated outside - if he was in there he was probably sleeping. He turned away, he should let him rest. He could get himself cleaned up and his bed changed in the meantime.

It was as he was in the shower that he attempted to reflect on the last few... hours? Days? He didn't even know. It couldn't have been longer than that, surely. He should have checked before he got in here because suddenly he was struck with the fear he'd been in that hellish condition for weeks, months, years...

Oh god, what about MK? He was mortal. Could he have survived being ill like that for so long?

Soaking wet he crashed out of the shower and tore through the house looking for his phone. He was ready to destroy everything he owned if he didn't find it within the next five seconds and thankfully he spotted it out of the corner of his eye on the kitchen counter.

He threw himself at it and was beyond relieved to see that only three days had passed and even more so to see a scathing message that could only be from Red Son confirming that MK's curse had also been lifted and that he would make a speedy recovery under his watchful eye. It even came with an accompanying picture of a sleeping MK as if to prove his point. The kid looked like he'd had just as rough a time as he had, if not worse, but he was alive.

He leaned on the counter and rested his forehead there for just a moment while his heart rate calmed down. He would go check on him personally once he'd cleaned up here and found Macaque - who was either crashed out in his sound proof room or not on the island because there's no way he wouldn't have heard that whole fiasco.

As he made his way back to the still running shower he grimaced at the water he had trailed everywhere but it was a small price to pay now that he knew MK was safe.

Three days...

And he could barely remember any of it - just flashes of sickness and distress. A shiver went up his spine at the thought of something so awful being a constant threat. Mortals got sick all the time and while he'd obviously seem people sick and suffering, experiencing it first hand was another thing all together. This was going to haunt his nightmares for days to come.

And Macaque had no doubt tended to him throughout and that wouldn't have been easy even without bouts of delirium making him volatile and uncooperative. He was going to owe him big for this - he'd of course return the favour if it was ever needed but like him, he'd never known Macaque to get sick.

He foresaw himself doing anything Macaque even thought of asking him of him without complaint for at least the next few days, or until Macaque snapped at him to stop - whatever came first.

After he had showered and tidied up, there was nothing to stop him from glancing at Macaque's door and every time he did it got harder to resist the urge to open it and check if he was there.

If he was really sound asleep then he might not wake up at him peaking his head and if he wasn't he could always go back to sleep, right? He just wanted confirmation he was in there.

He couldn't stand it any longer and as quietly as he could he opened the door and activated his golden vision and he could have collapsed with the relief he felt to see Macaque lying asleep in the middle of his bed. Unfortunately, now he'd seen him, he couldn't stop him from approaching him and before he knew it he was on the bed beside him and holding him as gently as he could when all he wanted to was pull him tightly against his chest.

He wasn't sure whether he wanted to thank him or apologize - probably both.

He hadn't realised he had been faintly trembling and despite how desperately he didn't want to disturb Macaque's sleep he found himself burying his face into the back of his neck as his eyes burned.

He heard Macaque inhale sharply before his hand moved to cover his, "Wukong..."

Voice hoarse, he whispered, "I'm sorry."

Sorry for waking him up, sorry for needing to see him so badly, sorry for putting him through god knows what for the last three days.

He didn't fight it when Macaque turned round and used a hand to tuck Wukong's head under his chin and safe in his arms he couldn't stop himself from breaking down. Apologies were used as punctuation as he struggled to put into words the terror he had felt, that he still felt, at his agonising taste of mortality.

Macaque said little, and when he was finally calm enough to pull back and look at him it was clear how exhausted he was. Promises to be the one to tend to him now fell on deaf ears as Macaque asked whether he was going to visit MK and he thought Macaque was perhaps trying to spare his feelings with a subtle hint to leave him alone for a while.

But that wasn't quite the case because after a disheartened affirmation Macaque explained, "While you're there I think I'm going to take a quick trip to the Void."

Alarmed, he responded, "But you only just got back!"

Macaque nodded, "I know but the last few days have been... a lot. A couple hours there would do me some good. I'll be back by the time you've finished seeing MK."

Guilt clawed at his chest, "I'm sorry you had to take care of me. I... I can't remember most of it but I know I wasn't easy to deal with."

Macaque shrugged, "You were out of it - not like you had any control over anything you did."

He frowned, "That doesn't mean I didn't do or say anything that upset you. Hell, even if I didn't it must have been unbelievably stressful. If it had been the other way around I would have lost my mind with worry. Don't just bottle up how this whole thing affected you, it doesn't matter if I was "out of it" - you had a hard time too."

Macaque conceded tiredly, "We'll talk once I'm back, alright? Thoughts are too hard to gather right now."

It was an acceptable compromise but the urge to take care of him couldn't quite be ignored, "Ok but let's get something to eat before you go. I can bring it to you - breakfast in bed style."

He huffed, "No thanks. Never saw the appeal of eating where you sleep. C'mon, let's just get up."

He did his best not to make a fuss but he was grateful that Macaque just sat down and let him worry about getting them breakfast. Macaque asked after how he was feeling but aside from a dull headache and being a bit tired he was feeling right as rain.

Macaque yawned before explaining, "You'll probably be subject to some tests just to double check everything is fine once you get to MK. Do me a favour and just go with it - don't give Red Son a hard time. You do owe him for lifting the curse after all."

Begrudgingly he agreed but sure in the answer he asked, "He cracked it but you two must have been working together, right?"

It had apparently been quite the team effort between Red Son, Macaque, the Demon Bull family physicians, the Long family physicians and some independent experts on curses and he was horrified to learn that while his life had never been at risk, MK's most certainly had been and it had been all hands on deck to lift the curse before it killed him.

He had a lot of thank you fruit baskets to personally deliver by the sounds of it.

At the moment all he could do to express his overwhelming gratitude was to keep piling more food on Macaque's plate and topping up his drink after every sip he took. Macaque had a terrible habit of only remembering to eat when other people were eating around him and so he felt totally justified in making sure he was well fed now because who knew when his last proper meal had been.

Macaque didn't fight it but he did eventually reach the point where he looked like he was going to pass out if he had even one more bite and so Wukong reluctantly allowed him to stop.

It dawned on him a little late that Macaque was waiting for the go-ahead for him to leave. He took a breath before declaring he needed to see MK, and Macaque all but sagged in relief. As they were about to part ways he forced himself to say, "Don't hurry back if you need more time."

Macaque kissed the back of his hand, "I'll be back before dinner. Say hi to MK for me."

He squeezed his hand briefly before disappearing and Wukong allowed himself a moment to centre himself before he summoned his nimbus and left for the Demon Bull family fortress.

----

Wukong couldn't wait to see the back of this whole ordeal. This week had been the longest he had known for a long time, with today, in particular, feeling like it was never going to end.

He'd arrived at the Demon Bull family fortress only to immediately be beset by an overtired and stressed Pigsy who hadn't hesitated to let him know who he thought was to blame for his son's brush with death.

He had done his best to weather his anger but, while he'd known deep down neither he nor MK were responsible for the curse, the should-ofs and what-ifs that had already been beginning to fester were only being fed the longer he endured Pigsy's tirade.

Eventually Sandy had come to his rescue and pulled Pigsy away from him, but the damage had been done and he knew he was going to hear the echoes of those shouts for some time to come.

He hadn't been allowed nearly as long as he needed by MK's bedside before he had been whisked away by Red Son to perform some tests but as per Macaque's request he had bore it without a word of complaint - even offering a sincere thank you for saving MK and himself from the curse.

He was told in no uncertain terms that he hadn't done it for him. He had done it for MK, Wukong had just been lucky enough to also benefit from his efforts. Unprompted, he added that these tests were also for MK's benefit, and Macaque's, as for some unfathomable reason they cared about his wellbeing and it went unsaid that they were both important enough for him to go out of his way like this as a result.

He learnt a little about the work that had gone into lifting the curse and the part that Macaque had played in it all - he'd apparently taken charge of the situation once he'd arrived on the scene and it sounded like he had been instrumental in facilitating Red Son's eventual success. Both in helping him unravel the curse and in ensuring he didn't destroy himself in the process.

He asked after MK's condition as well - wanting to know when he would wake up and if there was anything he could do to help. Overall, his condition was stable and with any luck he would start to wake up within the next few hours but there was nothing else that could be done now but to wait.

He would have liked to have been there when he woke up but he had a feeling his presence was not conducive to the sort of environment that encouraged recovery, not if Pigsy was there. So he asked Red Son to call him once there were any signs he'd wake up soon and told him he was off to find Niú.

He tried not to let his thoughts wander too much as he walked through the halls but the image of MK lying in that bed haunted his every step. A cruel reminder that no matter how invincible his successor seemed, he was very much still mortal and not for the first time he'd agonised over the fact that MK had refused his offer of an immortal peach.

Thankfully, he found Niú before his thoughts could even begin to consider the terribly alluring idea of taking matters into his own hands. Niú had filled him in on everything he knew of the situation before asking after his experience and while he was honest as he explained he couldn't remember much, he definitely downplayed quite how harrowing it had been.

He was quick to move the topic off himself and ask after Macaque instead. Niú confirmed what he'd heard from Red Son and Wukong was unsurprised to hear that despite Macaque's insistence that Red Son eat and sleep he hadn't seemed inclined to take his own advice.

Niú had been equally unsurprised to hear that Macaque was currently taking a power nap in the Void and had muttered unflatteringly about how he hadn't changed at all - still too willing to disregard himself for a loved one.

It was a sentiment that sent a cold chill through him and he knew Macaque was going to be absolutely sick to the back teeth of him with how overbearing and clingy he was going to be in the immediate future.

Niú kept him company while they waited for news of MK and when a bull clone finally appeared they both made their way back to the infirmary. As much as he had wanted to rush to MK's bedside, he and Niú hung back on the peripherals as everyone else got their fill first.

MK looked tired and dazed but he was awake and so undoubtedly alive. He sagged against Niú but he snapped back to attention as MK's eyes met his and he was beckoned over with a weakly raised hand and a watery smile.

The crowd parted for him and they were as bad as each other as they held on tightly and wetly babbled about how worried they had been and how glad they were that it was over. When he finally stood up and wiped at his eyes it was to tell MK to hurry up and get better and that if he needed or wanted anything he just had to say the word.

He retreated slightly to let everyone else back in but it was clear that MK wasn't going to stay awake for much longer and once he was finally asleep Wukong took his leave - promising he would be back tomorrow and requesting that he be kept in the loop.

He felt both lighter and heavier as he flew back to the island and honestly he wasn't sure he had it in him for whatever heart wrenching conversation awaited him back home but he wasn't giving himself a choice - he couldn't let anything Macaque might be thinking fester.

Despite his mounting stress about what was to come, he was glad to walk through the front door and see Macaque on the couch chatting with some of the monkeys - all but one of whom immediately left him to come and clamber over him while loudly chittering about how worried they had been.

He'd forgotten he still needed to let the troupe know he was alright - no doubt he'd have a small army outside his door soon enough but right now he reassured those in front of him and apologised for worrying them and for "being mean".

He probably wasn't going to be having a truly private conversation with Macaque anytime soon but still he shuffled over to him as best he could, leaning over the back of the couch to kiss his head before asking, "How're you feeling?"

"Better. Still a bit tired but nothing some normal sleep won't fix. How was MK?"

He moved around the couch and sat close to him as he responded, "He woke up for a little bit while I was there - Red Son says he should make a rapid recovery but he's going to be stuck in bed for at least the next couple of days."

Macaque huffed, "They might let him out of bed but he's not being let out of anyone's sight anytime soon. It was real touch and go at times."

He didn't even want to think about it and instead focused on what else he'd learnt about the situation, "Niú filled me in. And speaking of - I knew you were downplaying how involved you were! Did you sleep at all? How did you even manage to be in two places at once?"

Macaque shrugged, "Used my portals so I had at least one ear in both places. Went wherever I was needed most."

He pressed, "So you didn't sleep then?"

He looked uncomfortable and his guilt was confirmed as he looked away and muttered, "Didn't need to sleep."

His tail twitched but he took a breath. He wasn't really in a place to criticise - he would have doubtless done the same, but Niú's grumbled comment had stuck with him, "Macaque..."

He refused to look at him as he sunk further into the couch, "I used the lantern."

He blinked, not quite sure what he meant but increasingly sure it wasn't good, "What?"

"Didn't need to sleep, used my lantern."

"No, I got that. Since when can you use your lantern to... What? Substitute sleep? What else can it do? What else have you been using it for?" He didn't mean to sound so accusatory but his sounded like a worrying development.

"Nothing. I haven't used it for anything. I didn't even know it would work but it did and... Look, I'm telling you this so I'm not tempted to do it again and so you can call me out if I do. I know I shouldn't have done it but MK was dying and you were begging me to make it stop and I just... I had to do something."

He was erring on the side of believing him about the lantern - he hadn't had to tell him any of this after all. He would never have questioned how he'd actually been able to stay awake for that long - he assumed he'd maybe stolen little power naps here and there or just powered through with sheer force of will.

And he knew he would have been willing to go to much worse lengths if he had been in Macaque's position.

He sighed and took hold of his hand, "We're definitely scheduling in a proper lantern talk, and soon, but for now is there anything I need to know - did it have any side effects? Is that why you needed to go to the Void today?"

A bit of tension left Macaque's body as he replied, "I think I would have gone either way but using the lantern like that did definitely have me actually wanting to go. I... I have a feeling using the lantern's power like that has the potential to be a problem. It- It felt good, like addictively good, but honestly the old lantern was the same. This definitely felt more potent though."

He wrapped an arm around him and kissed the side of his head, "Thank you for telling me. We'll talk about it properly later, alright? Right now, I want to hear about what happened these last few days from your perspective. And don't try and spare my feelings - I want to know."

And it was true, he did want to know, but he really hadn't given as much thought to what physically taking care of someone that was ill meant. He'd tended to plenty of sick monkeys over the years, and seen plenty of sick mortals - he knew what was involved and despite knowing there was no shame in needing help, he felt deeply uncomfortable as he realised just how dependent he'd been.

He'd never had to rely on anyone the way he'd had to rely on Macaque these last few days and while it did nip at his pride, it was the thought of being so weak and vulnerable that was really throwing him for a loop. If something had happened, if someone had attacked, he would have been worse than useless.

He'd been brought to his knees before - by mountains and circlets but they had been ordained by Heaven. To think that there were curses or the like just lying about that could actually strike down the Monkey King... It was a terrifying thought.

And while that was going to haunt him, he couldn't help but feel grateful that he and Macaque's roles hadn't been reversed because he was sure seeing Macaque as distressed as he had been would have broken something inside of him.

To have only been able to hold him as he cried and begged for the pain to stop, or to sit and bear it as he swung between incoherent grief and anger over things long since passed... He would have torn the world apart to stop his suffering.

Thankfully, he hadn't said anything too egregious or hurtful. Well, not towards Macaque at least and he'd had to spend a not insignificant amount of time trying to convince him that he wasn't riddled with guilt and self-loathing. Sure, he had his bad days but they were happening less and less often.

He had a feeling Macaque would be keeping a close eye out to confirm how true that was.

He was quick to put to bed any inklings that he had meant any of the upsetting remarks he had made towards Macaque because he most certainly did not believe that Macaque hadn't been doing absolutely everything he could to help him nor did he believe that he had been trying to punish him by withholding relief from the curse.

Macaque seemed to accept this pretty easily - understanding that his delirium and distress had been what had caused him to lash out but that didn't mean it hadn't hurt to hear and despite none of it being intentional or within his control Wukong could only keep apologising.

Macaque never said anything about him thinking his master had been with him at one point but he was so sure it had happened, nervously he asked, "I didn't mistake you for anyone else while I was out of it by any chance, did I?"

Macaque shrugged, "You didn't seem to know who I was at times. You even asked me to go find me for you at one point."

Well, that was a bit embarrassing and he laughed a little awkwardly while he deliberated on whether to keep pushing. If things really had happened as he thought they had then there's no way Macaque didn't know what he meant and this was likely his subtle way of saying he didn't want to talk about it.

It didn't feel right to just ignore it though, so tentatively he asked, "That's all? You're sure? I swear I can remember thinking someone else was there...?"

Macaque seemed to think about it, "Oh, there was a bull clone here before I arrived."

That wasn't the answer he'd been expecting, and surprised he asked, "What? Why?"

"Red Son had it tail you after you left his lab to make sure nothing happened before I got to you and so it could explain the situation to me."

He cringed slightly. Yeah, he really hadn't been in any condition to explain what was going on - he probably should have thought of that before crashing out but in his defence, he hadn't known he was going to deteriorate like that.

Ok, fair play to Red Son but it was one thing for Macaque to see him in that state and quite another for literally anybody else. Knowing Red Son, those bull clones of his probably record everything they saw and he was very unhappy that one, Red Son had witnessed him so vulnerable and two, probably still had the evidence of it.

How was he going to get rid of it? He had a feeling just asking him to delete it wasn't going to work but he didn't have the tech savviness needed to find it and do it himself. Maybe he would listen to Macaque or MK if they asked him to do it...?

He'd worry about it later. Right now he had a more pressing concern, "Well, that's good to know but it wasn't what I was getting at..."

Macaque sighed, "I know but I don't want to talk about it."

That was all the confirmation he needed, "So, I really did think you were...? I'm sorry. That must have been... Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

He wasn't actually sure how Macaque must have felt about it but he doubted it had been anything positive.

"I'm sure."

Insisting would get him nowhere but he felt he at least had to say, "Alright. But if you change your mind..."

He was sure an "I won't." had been on the tip of Macaque's tongue before he sighed and said, "I can talk to you about it, I know."

That was probably the best he was going to get and there wasn't too much more to say after that. The monkeys that had stuck around seemed to sense this was the case and had determined now was the perfect time for a grooming session and it was exactly the sort of decompression he needed and he thought he could be forgiven for focusing all his efforts on Macaque.

And the rest of the day was about taking it easy and trying to recapture a sense of normality and, of course, dealing with the hundreds of monkeys that wanted confirmation both he and Macaque were ok.

----

It was a couple of days later that the promised lantern talk took place, prompted by Macaque opening his bedroom door and disappearing into the darkness to grab something. When he came back, Wukong questioned, "I've been meaning to ask - what's with your room? It never used to be impossible to navigate without golden vision."

Macaque took a second to apparently brace himself for this conversation, but he responded, "Side effect of the lantern - that's where I spent most of the time making it and it's where it's kept, sort of."

He raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean "sort of"?"

He sighed, "I mean it's in there but even with your golden vision you won't be able to find it."

The unspoken so don't even try was heard loud and clear and he took issue with it, "Do you think maybe that I should be able to find it? Y'know, in case of an emergency?"

Macaque didn't pull any punches, "I don't trust you not to do something stupid or reckless with it, so no, I don't think you should be able to find it."

Despite his track record, he was irritated at the lack of faith, it's not like he was going to go messing around with it just for fun. But if something happened to Macaque and the lantern was the problem and/or solution then he needed to be able to get his hands on it - risk to himself be damned.

But while he was determined to win this argument, he could be smart about how he went about it. The more he knew, the better he could make his case and acting as if he was taking the moral high ground, he huffed, "Fine. But now's the time to tell me more about it, don't you think?"

Macaque crossed his arms and leaned back against the kitchen counter, clearly on guard even as he agreed, "Fine. What do you want to know?"

Everything, obviously but instead of saying that he nodded towards Macaque's room, "Should I be worried about your room looking like that? Is there more to it than it just being permanently dark?"

He was kicking himself for not questioning it sooner but he was in his room so infrequently that he never remembered to ask.

Macaque looked uncomfortable as he admitted, "I don't think so...?"

Incredulous, he responded, "You mean you don't know?"

Macaque's tail twitched as he hunched over himself defensively, "I still have Red Son check me over regularly - there's nothing to suggest anything is wrong. And neither of us have noticed anything off - I don't think it's harmful and it's not like I spend that much time in there anyway."

His concern made his voice sharper than he intended, "So it's not having an immediate effect but that doesn't mean it's not doing something! You said the other day that using the lantern made you want to go to the Void - what if spending time in your room while it's like that starts getting into your head? Makes you think you want to spend more and more time in the Void until you-!"

He caught himself as he realised how worked up he was getting but the fear that Macaque either couldn't or wouldn't return to him one day terrified him more than anything else.

He took a shaky breath before continuing more calmly, "Sorry, I just- the thought of losing you... How sure are you it's not doing you any harm?"

Macaque seemed to give it some serious thought before standing a little straighter, "I can't be a hundred percent confident but I don't believe it's inherently dangerous. My room and the lantern - they're comforting. Like a memento of something important, or something that feels like it can keep me safe. It's different from actually using the lantern..."

He struggled with the words for a moment, "Using it the way I did felt like it was blurring the line between me and the Void. Shadows don't need to sleep and so I became a little more shadow in order to take advantage of that but it was only temporary. I don't feel any different now that everything is back to normal but I was planning to have Red Son check me over just to make sure. I just wanted to give him a minute before asking him though - he's had a rough time."

He resisted the urge to grab Macaque and shake him, and he was impressed by how level is voice was, "Macaque, I can guarantee that Red Son will not appreciate you "giving him a minute". Open up a portal - we're going to get you checked out right now. I can't believe you didn't say something sooner."

Even as Macaque opened a portal, he argued, "You're overreacting. And I told you about the lantern straight away."

Wukong grabbed his arm and hauled him through the portal, "You told me that it had no side effects!"

"Yeah and as far as I know it doesn't!"

He growled, "I am going to kick your ass once we get home. I can't believe you!"

"We were still dealing with the fallout from the actual crisis this week! Did you forget that MK almost fucking died? Or that the curse hadn't even been lifted half a day when we talked about it? Sorry I was still trying to deal with all of that and didn't want to stress everyone out over nothing!"

He stopped dragging Macaque through the halls so he could turn and look at him with incredulous fury, "Nothing!? Oh, just wait 'til Niú and Gōngzhǔ hear about this! Nothing!? Are you kidding me?"

Macaque didn't even get a chance to retort before they both had to brace themselves against the powerful gust of wind that suddenly blew down the hall, a furious aura appeared before them and he could have sworn Macaque tried to subtly shift to stand behind him as they looked up to see Gōngzhǔ glaring down at them.

----

He, Niú and Gōngzhǔ glared at Macaque as Red Son put him through his usual tests and despite not knowing the reasons behind their ire, Red Son correctly concluded that it must be well deserved and was equally annoyed with his despondent patient.

He had briefly filled Niú and Gōngzhǔ in before they had marched Macaque to Red Son's lab and he was sure once they had another minute alone Macaque was really going to get it.

He never should have postponed the lantern talk - his brain must still have been fried from being sick. He had just been so stressed about everything else that he had taken Macaque at his word when he had implied that there was nothing to worry about.

He didn't think that Macaque had necessarily been lying, just that he had severely misjudged the situation. But he felt his frustration lessen a little as he realised that it was likely that exhaustion and stress had probably done a number on his rational thinking skills too.

Or maybe he had just been trying to convince himself that there was nothing to worry about.

He stopped glaring as he watched Macaque miserably go through the motions. He had been upfront about using the lantern in the first place, and he hadn't shied away from talking about it when Wukong asked and then he'd immediately acquiesced to his demand that they go get him checked out.

Maybe he'd overreacted a little, and having him, Niú and Gōngzhǔ give him a hard time was probably a bit overkill.

He didn't currently have the layer of Macaque's magic on his hand he usually had for social situations but he was sure he would still be able to sense the gesture regardless as he hung his hand by his side and mimicked holding his hand. He let out a near silent chirp just in case however.

After a short delay he felt the false grip of Macaque's hand in his as well as the feeling of a tail wrapped around his own and he thought Macaque looked slightly less defeated thereafter.

Thankfully, the test results didn't take long to decipher and it was to everyone's great relief that there were no notable changes or causes for concern but that didn't mean there wasn't a serious discussion still to be had.

One that Red Son clearly wanted to be a part of but had absolutely no chance of getting in on. They all thanked him sincerely for his help however.

He walked closely beside Macaque, holding his hand, as they made their way to a more private venue. The positive result had significantly reduced the tension in the air and Macaque in particular looked like he was back in control of the situation.

Once they were all comfortably seated in one of the fortress's many living areas, Gōngzhǔ didn't hesitate to get straight to the point, "The lantern. Where is it?"

Macaque was not cowed by her tone, "Forget it. You're not getting your hands on it."

Her eyes glowed faintly, "You clearly cannot be trusted with it - it will be better kept under our protection."

Niú added gruffly, "Why not just destroy it? What use does it have?"

Gōngzhǔ responded, "Destroying artefacts is risky - we would have to have Red Son analyse it thoroughly before we could consider it."

Macaque's tail whipped in agitation, "No-one is touching my lantern, let alone giving it to Red Son to mess with. The full usefulness of the lantern has yet to be understood but it hasn't proven to be dangerous." He paused and then added, "To me anyway."

Gōngzhǔ glared at him, "And how can we trust you not to use it recklessly?"

Macaque argued, "Because I haven't used it recklessly - I haven't even used it for it's intended purpose, which is to keep me functioning if I can't get to the Void for whatever reason, because I haven't needed to! You think I don't remember what happened when I got careless with my last lantern? I'm not going to make the same mistake!"

He chimed in, "Wait, hold on! What happened with your last lantern?"

Macaque didn't break his stare down with Gōngzhǔ as he explained, "Got greedy - stored too much magic and tried to use it all at once. Power overload."

Well, he was certainly going to be asking more about that later but he had to say Macaque was pretty good at learning from his mistakes and at risk assessing a situation so he was feeling a little more inclined to take his side, to a certain degree at least.

He nodded, "Alright, we'll come back to that. I don't think the lantern needs to be taken away but I do think we need to be able to find it in case of an emergency and maybe set up some rules for it's use? Like, telling one of us before you do something experimental with it? You didn't even know that it would work the way it did!"

He could tell Macaque didn't love these suggestions but he wasn't getting out of this without making some kind of compromise.

Niú nodded, "And how you used the lantern this time was reckless. You forced Red Son to rest but didn't hold yourself to the same standard. I don't believe the outcome would have been different had you not used it."

Macaque looked particularly affected by Niú's words and he retorted a little sharply, "I had to take care of Wukong!"

Gōngzhǔ was unsympathetic, "He would have survived either way."

He couldn't help but glare at her - it was true but he couldn't imagine how much worse that nightmare would have been without Macaque there.

Niú was less harsh but still pointed out, "You could have brought him back here, had him tended to by our physicians and focused your attentions entirely on finding a way to lift the curse."

It was hard to argue with that but he felt himself pale slightly at the thought of being seen in that condition. But surely Macaque hadn't kept him on the island just to save his pride?

Macaque stood firm, "No. It can't get out that there are ways for mortals to fell the Monkey King, even temporarily. And we couldn't take the risk that his powers wouldn't act up - even just his magic fluctuating could have been detrimental to Red Son's work and put others in danger."

He nodded resolutely in back up. He was totally right - he wasn't sure it ever got to dangerous levels but his magic definitely had been acting up and the stress of being in an unfamiliar environment, with unfamiliar people could have seriously exacerbated the situation.

Gōngzhǔ wasn't appeased, "We could have handled him. Your excuses don't measure up to the unnecessary risk you took."

As much as he technically agreed, she'd already pissed him off and nothing she said now could have him on her side. He was firmly on team Macaque.

Thankfully however Niú cut in before he could say anything inflammatory, "Gōngzhǔ is right - this whole situation could have been avoided had you talked to us - we could have worked together to find a solution. To that end, I believe Wukong's solution is the correct one - safety measures to ensure this does not happen again."

Macaque was fighting a losing battle but he still fought to the bitter end. He was able to concede that in this specific situation there had been other options but he argued he wasn't always going to have the liberty of conversing with someone in a crisis situation, there had to be exceptions.

They went back and forth for a while and eventually came to a tentative, if not begrudging, agreement about how and when the lantern should be used but Macaque would not shift on letting them have unfettered access to it - no matter how many times they promised they wouldn't look for it unless there was no other option.

And it was getting to the point where he and Niú were almost having to hold back their respective significant others to stop them tearing each other's throats out.

With a shared glance, they both decided it was better to adjourn this discussion and return to it with cooler heads. No sooner had it been suggested was he being pulled through a shadow portal and landing on their couch. He could only watch as Macaque paced agitatedly in front of him.

It took some time for him to stop spitting insults at Gōngzhǔ but when he did he turned to him with a determined look in his eyes, "I'll seal the lantern so it can't be used as a gateway to the Void for souls. Once I've done that, you can have access to it."

He wasn't agreeing to that - that was his ticket to reaching Macaque if he couldn't return from the Void - but he also knew that Macaque wasn't going to be able to make good on that plan anytime soon, if he even could.

So he didn't argue, "We can talk about it more once we've both chilled out, alright? I don't know about you but I am all kinds of wound up after that talk. Can we just take a minute? Please?"

For a moment, Macaque looked ready to argue but instead he just sagged and made his way over and slumped next to him on the couch before tipping over and curling up with his head on his lap, looking exceptionally defeated.

He couldn't help but feel a little bad - that had been a lot more intense than he had been expecting but he was also pretty impressed with how well Macaque held his own in the face of the three of them giving him a hard time.

He started to run his hand through Macaque's hair, hoping he himself wasn't so frazzled that his magic wasn't having the soothing effect he was going for.

They were silent for some time before Macaque said, "I'm glad I did it. Now I know that my body is more resilient than I had thought. I embraced the Void and it was only temporary - I didn't lose myself for tipping my hand."

He frowned, "This isn't your way of saying the lantern is ok to use because I thought you agreed that-"

Macaque shook his head, "No, I still shouldn't use it unnecessarily but it just makes me feel better about the Void in general - like it can't claim me as easily as I thought. That there's more give and take to it than I had allowed myself to consider."

He mulled that over - if it helped Macaque come to terms with his fear then he was all for it but he just hoped it didn't also encourage to take more risks, because he's not sure his blood pressure could handle it.

--Chapter End--

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[agirlwithglam]

how to develop self love and confidence

— a step by step guide by yours truly ♥

disclaimer!! for some people it can take a lot longer to love themselves than others, so don't be discouraged if it takes a bit longer. just remember that no matter what you think, you ARE WORTHY OF LOVE.

step 1: identifying the root cause

first you need to find WHY you dont love yourself. it usually comes down to these main reasons:

society

your looks

comparison

your abilities

childhood trauma

your current situations

it can be just one or more than one, and sometimes it may not be as simple as "my looks", sometimes you may have to dig deeper.

for me, it was because i thought i was "ugly"

step 2: once you know the WHY, research about the topic and try and solve it.

here ive broken down the 6 reasons to help you a bit: (but remember that this is just a small break down, if you want you can research more about the topic & try to battle it)

society: society has tricked us into believing that loving yourself is considered 'vain' or 'narcissistic'. let me tell you right now that THAT IS NOT TRUE. loving yourself is a basic necessity that everyone should have!!

your looks: this is something i struggled with for a loong time. remember that beauty is subjective!! bob could think that travis looks 'average' but Leo could think that travis looks absolutely gorgeous!! ☆ so how did i overcome this? i actually 'glowed up'. bc the main thing i didnt like was face- my teeth to be specific. so once i got braces, my teeth aligned and i started looking so much better. ☆ other struggles: ↴ for you if it may be acne, then you could start trying to take care of your skin better. or if its body image then if you reeeeally dont like it then literally just start working out. if you have the option to yet you still dont then dont complain. but remember that ALL BODIES ARE PERFECT. ★ another thing that helped me a lot was affirmations! i listened to a bunch of affirmations -> i used this video by thewizardliz and it did wonders! (you can also search up on yt self-love/ beauty affirmations)

comparison: for most people comparison comes from social media right? the simple solution to this would be unfollow accounts that dont serve you, or delete/ set a time limit on the social media platform "but what if i compare myself to people i meet in real life?" well we can't exactly unfollow or delete these people but what we can do is turn that jealousy (yes, jealousy) into inspiration! be inspired by the people with greater lives and use that to pull yourself forward! ☆ a quote that i read once (that may or may not help you) : "do not compare your chapter 1 to someone else's chapter 50." you never know what the other person has gone through or is going through that got them to this point!

your abilities: okay theres not much i can say here except that you can learn almost everything online nowadays. stop complaining and get off your lazy butt to prove to yourself just how much potential you have! (but don't beat yourself up for being a lazy butt, im one as well) here is a link to a TON of stuff you can learn online!

childhood trauma: this is a bit of a more delicate subject which i do not know a lot on, my best suggestion would be to just go to therapy (or use an online therapy app- betterhelp). - watching thewizardliz may help as well as she might know more about the topic.

your current situation: whether its trouble with friends, at school, at work, or with family i promise you that these things do not last forever. humans were not put on earth to be unhappy and miserable! (whats the point in that?) my advice is to learn more about the topic (for ex i was struggling with being left out w friends for a while and it did hurt a bit) and see what you can do to fix it or at least make the best out of it. + another reminder that you can use the law of assumption- in basic words the law states that whatever you desire, you have. all you need to do is accept that. heres a quote i read: "if you dont like where you are,, then move. you aint a tree." this is literally YOUR life. RESPECT yourself and dont let people treat you bad because that is disrespecting yourself!

step 3: focus on yourself!!

my favourite step!!

this is your sign to stop focussing on others' lives and start focussing on your own.

when you start to focus on yourself, up level yourself and try to become your best version of yourself, you actually end up falling in love with that version of yourself, and your current version!

ask yourself: is there even something to love?

ask yourself: would you want to date or be friends with someone like you? think actually deep about this; if your answer is no, then that obviously means that there is some work to do.

if you're constantly negative and complaining and rude all the time, trust me, literally no ones gonna want to hang out with you. and then you'll adopt that 'victim mindset' of "nobody likes me and i suck". instead of doing that, why dont you try to just suck a bit less? there isn't any pressure on you to become amazing the next day, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't try.

small things/habits to start:

gratitude

hydration

exercising

journalling

meditation

eating healthy

developing a skill

get enough sleep

take cold showers

taking care of your skin

invest in your appearance

focussing on school/ your grades

go outside! go for walks, be in nature!

changing what you consume (resources below)

some resources that helped me SO MUCH:

♡ thewizardliz

♡ tam kaur

♡ persephone's mind

and meditation! its so extremely underated but SO VALUABLE.

xoxo, vanilla

[doodlemancy]

uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuughhhhhhhhhh

so here's the deal re: this fucking horseshit. god i hate this.

i, personally, have mostly given up on trying to dodge inclusion in AI datasets. the stuff i make generally isn't what they're looking for anyway and there's no real way to 100% avoid being scraped short of becoming entirely invisible online, which would um, lead to me having no money and dying. that's part of the cruelty of all this, but also, in a way, it's the same risk artists online have always taken; if you want people to see your work, you have to post it knowing that some of those people are fucking lowlife piece of shit scumbags who will try to resell it on redbubble or something for a quick buck. AI is just a new and exhausting way for garbagey people to stink worse. i am not in any way excusing that behavior or trying to imply people should not be mad about it or that we shouldn't condemn this move and fight back. "if you don't want your work stolen, don't put it online" is the kind of shitty Internet Tough Guy talk i've always hated since my dA days. it's as useless and heartless as telling people that if they don't want their bikes stolen, they shouldn't leave them at the bike rack. i'm saying that i, personally, will not let a bunch of soulless thieving shitheads drive me offline. i belong here. they belong in a wifi-proof dumpster.

nightshade and glaze eat my artwork alive. they make it look terrible. when you have to sell things on the basis that they look nice, it's a big problem when protective measures make them look like dogshit. my work is not a good candidate for these processes. even if that weren't the case, i don't have the stamina, especially right now while my chronic pain is flaring for the third month in a row and my adhd meds are scarce, to go back and shade/glaze everything, and it wouldn't work on reblogs anyway. given the way midjourney and its equally stinky siblings have already scraped years and terabytes' worth of image data from popular websites, it doesn't seem worth my time. if you think it is worth yours i am not going to like, yell at you. i am just one person. but i want to be clear about the kind of situations some of us are being forced into.

i think some of the doomsaying about AI and what it will do to us has been overblown-- they need you, for marketing purposes, to believe that someday their shitty robot will be as good at "drawing" and as practical to work with as a human-- but the consequences of "AI" (which is not even actually AI) are already real and visible and obvious to anyone paying attention. i unfortunately am not infinitely wise and powerful and therefore do not have an ideal all-encompassing solution to this deeply stupid problem that the Most Unlikeable Manbabies On Earth have imposed on us after NFTs fizzled out.

what i do have is a very large repository of nice anime and game screenshots i've taken, knowledge of many archives of nice public domain images, a computer that can run nightshade overnight or while i'm off doing other things, and, most importantly, near-infinite capacity for pettiness. i do kinda feel like the jury is still out on how well nightshade/glaze will work in the long run, but in the meantime, i suppose it wouldn't cost me a lot to... perhaps... every time i get Mad About AI™, channel that anger into dumping some thoroughly-but-not-spammily-tagged, high-quality, inconspicuous poison onto this godforsaken hellsite via a secret side blog. i could make a batch of poison ahead of time, keep it on my phone, use my Toilet Scrolling Time or my Public Transit Time to post and tag up an image here and there. it could be a fun challenge to try to make some pretty robot poison that some humans will still enjoy.

the other thing we need to poison at this point, IMO, is the word "AI" itself, by being loudly and mercilessly critical of any company that dabbles in it, the same way we all clowned on any company that pushed their luck with NFT/crypto shit a couple of years ago. we need to have every corporation terrified that association with AI will tank their sales and hurt their brand. AI must = number go down and lots of people screaming at you. companies will fuck around. we must provide the finding-out. we shouldn't have to. but we can!

so make sure to let tumblr know you hate this. maybe you could include this interesting link (tw child abuse) about how Stable Diffusion was trained on some extremely serious crime. or these screenshots of Midjourney devs just sort of admitting what their whole thing is, which i got here but which have kinda been spread all over since January.

spite and anger can be forms of hope. that's all i have to say, or at least all i'm willing to type with my left hand tonight.

[freelestine]

I asked what do you want evidence for because it is a lot and some has been provided. Not because it isn't needed. As you already know and support her service in the military that would be repetitive to bring up again.

I couldn't care less about a fandom when that person is lying and defending virulent zionists and, as you stated, cogs in the military complex making a living out of the suffering of the poor and still seeking to justify it. If you believe posting is irrelevant and somehow prevents you from participating in any other form of activism, then what are you doing here? Remember not everyone you meet online is on the same side of the muzzle as you are.Apparently all your principles fall flat when it is your "friends" engaging in genocidal support.You ask me to stop talking about this but in the same breath you also ask for evidence you could easily obtain yourself as they never hid or denied their position.

But sure. Here are some examples like considering any call against zionism as antisemitism:

Statements as moderators of r/Israel:

Prohibiting any talk about the conflict once they couldn't frame zionist genocide positively anymore while still allowing positive comments on Israel as a settler state, bothsidesing a genocide while establishing clear allegiance on other international conflicts:

While Palestine never finds any mercy on the hands of any of the mods, and they'll just spill the cheapest forms of hasbara:

And finally the latest grossly racist warmongery imperialist proposal to enlist in the US military as solution to the decades of civilian slaughter that started all of this.

There's way more like calling BDS a hate-group, defending the legality of settlements, repeatedly praising the IDF and disgusting islamophobic remarks, that you can easily find by yourself but I know you'll dismiss it regardless. So here's all that I could put together in my bus ride.

[hello-nichya-here]

I have a question that might be offensive, and I'm sorry in advance for any hurt it may cause. I've been trying to search for an answer online for a while but I'm not able to find a proper one, and hoped you could help me.

From what I have gathered, autistic people do not wish for there to be a cure for autism, which I understand because well, it would change your brain and the way you view the world. Some even insist it cannot exist (which I'm not so sure about but whatever). My main question is, there are thousands of people out there who are affected by some kinds of ASD so severe that they can never lead a proper life, will never mentally develop beyond a child, and often have to live through agonizing pain and overstimulation. When it comes to these cases, would they not prefer a cure? So wouldn't it be more ethical for a cure to exist, but taking the cure not be compulsory? Those people are obviously not on social media, so their voices go unheard. But wouldn't they and their loved ones not want them to be in pain?

Thanks in advance.

First off, here's why a "cure" is indeed impossible: autism is a neurotype, not a disease. It's not the brain or any organ/system doing something it shouldn't or being damaged by some internal and/or external factor. An autistic brain functions DIFFERENTLY, not DEFECTIVELY, though obviously there is a variety of ways in which it manifests, and it is very rare for an autistic person to be ONLY autistic, there's often one, or more, conditions affecting them at the same time (anxiety, ADHD, schizophrenia, depression, OCD, etc). It is also likely a result of multiple cromossomes working in atypical ways (unlike with Down Syndrome, which is a result of cromossome 21 and ONLY 21 working differently) - and we still don't know which ones, or even how many said cromossomes are.

What does all of that mean for a cure? It means that:

1 - To make an autistic person non-autistic it'd need to be possible to discover it when they're still a fetus and somehow force their brain and entire nervous system to form differently - both things modern science can't do and that we're not sure will EVER be possible.

2 - It is very likely that even if a cure is possible, it will NOT be a one-size-fits-all kind of deal, and it will work on some cases and be useless in others.

So it is already a far, far, FAR more complicated deal than just "If we put enough money, time and effort into it, we can find a cure." Part of the reason why many autistic people are sick of nearly every fucking charity about autism being focused on a cure is because, instead of that money going directly to us or to our caretakers (be it family or any form of hospice/home) and having a very real positive effective, that money goes into searching for a something that might genuinely not be biologically possible.

This is sadly the common history for nearly every group under the large umbrella of Disabled People. Sign Language was discouraged and even made ILLEGAL in some countries long before there were was a reliable, safe way to allow deaf people to hear. There are THOUSANDS of horror stories about people with any form of paralysis or mobility issues being just let root and die in their beds, even after all kinds of mobility aids were invented because "it's a burden to the caretakers" and a "miserable life to live anyway." A disabled athlete in Canada has recently complained about lack of accessibility and was offered EUTHANASIA as a solution because God forbid someone has to build a ramp.

The sad reality is that many non-disabled people are only interested in helping us if the help is guaranteed to make us 100% "normal." If it will gives us a decent, and sometimes fully/mostly independent life, but not make us able-bodied/neurotypical it is NEVER considerd "good enough", and is often talked about as a "set-back for the cure." Giving us ways to communicate our needs, find emotional support, employment, or at the very least multiple sources of aid that will allow our families to not be on "caretaker mode" 24/7 and to not fear what might happen to us once they pass away is considered A SET BACK. Because we're not "cured", but are also not dead.

They're focused on trying to "solve the mystery that will totally lead us to the cure IN THE FUTURE", but never on hearing our VERY basic requests for stuff that would greately improve our lives NOW - Autism Speaks, the largest autism "charity" (hate-group that literally uses "therapy" created by nazis to "help" us) literally popularized the myths that we don't know ANYTHING about autism, how it happens or how to help people with it, and making the "official autism symbol" be a fucking puzzle piece.

The "finding a cure is more important than anything" narrative talks over the needs of EVERY autistic person in existence, including the ones that cannot express their opinion or understand their own condition enough to HAVE an opinon, and yes, including the ones that actively WANT to be "cured."

And speaking of people who do genuinely want to be "cured" of their autism: it is extremely naive of you to think there's any change a cure wouldn't be made mandatory if it existed, and that the choice would be left to the individual, or even to a parent/caretaker on the more "extreme" cases.

Like I said before, things like Sign Language were made ILLEGAL in many countries for the crime of helping disabled have a better life without curing them. We still have cases of doctors operating deaf babies/toddlers without the parents consent. Wheelchair users constantly complain that people just randomly decide to "help" them by pushing their chair towards where they assume the person wants to go, without saying a word to them, without letting them change direction and sometimes even being careless enough to fuck up the chair.

Disabled people CONSTANTLY get called stupid or selfish for not opting for long, expensive treatments that will often only TEMPORARELY make them abled-bodied because being "normal/not a burden" should be more important than anything, including the completely unnecessary and often brutal emotional turmoil of getting used to a "normal" life just go then have to get used to being disabled again. And yes, autistic peoplel, from the completely indepent ones to the ones that need constant care, who have said they would NEVER take a cure for it if one existed, ALREADY get condescending, and sometimes openly hateful, comments about it all day, every day, everywhere. For saying we don't want to take the IMAGINARY pill that can "fix" us.

Our lives are already considered lesser, our opinions are already disregarded, and our bodily autonomy is already denied constantly (see the more "harmless" things like people that think it's funny to force hugs and kisses on those of us who hate most physical contact, to doctors that have injured or KILLED us through unnecessary, often violent means of restraining us during meltdowns). If a cure existed, we'd be straight up forced, or at least constantly pressured, to take it. There's a reason WE are the only ones discussing how unethical it'd be to force us to be "cured", while most neurptypicals have not even heard of that objection, and half would get mad at us for being "ungrateful" - after all, they spent so much time, money and effort on this thing (that we've been rejecting from day one), we can't just refuse it like that!

I know you probably mean well, anon, but the sad reality is that nearly every talk of "curing" autism (and almost anything that is considered a disability) is often rooted on nothing but society's very open disgust and disdain towards our very existence, not a genuine desire to make sure we're safe and happy - and as you can imagine, we're mad that we constantly have to justify our right to be alive and actually listened to, not spoken over by people who are "trying to help" by telling us to shut up and be glad that they're trying to make us "normal."

[mrs-snape5984]

“Help me out of this hell! Your love lifts me up like helium. Your love lifts me up when I'm down down down…”

“When I've hit the ground, you’re all I need.” (“Helium” by Sia)

This post will be a bit more personal than usual, but I think, I need to pour my heart out over this mesmerising artwork, which my friend @madfantasy made for me. There are things happening in my life, which are frightening me, even though I’m the one, who initiated them.

I’m going through a divorce (yep…the second one. I should get bonus cards for being such an idiot even twice…). This marriage has been broken for so long and I lived in my own room for years, already. I wanted us to be friends…housemates…partners for the sake of our children. I wanted to deal with the situation as mature as possible…and failed miserably. My boundaries were ignored and violently overstepped countless times…always leaving me shattered and panting…struggling to breathe, whenever I found myself in another panic attack.

It’s enough. I can’t do this anymore. I really don’t know, how I will be able to go through the whole process of moving out in my current state of this goddamn disease…and how I could offer my kids the life, they deserve to live. I want to have them with me…and yet I’m getting threatened to lose them. My standards of moral concepts and values never matched with his…and now, he’s the one with the bigger guns (financially and considering the health situation). This is a dangerous situation for me…and I’m scared to death, even though I’m trying to find responsible solutions to make sure, that our children won’t suffer. They’re the most important part of my life…and I’m deeply ashamed of myself for being such a selfish human being, who isn’t capable of enduring this way of life with their father any longer - particularly in the context of my disability and disease.

Over the past few years, especially since I’m suffering from ME/CFS, the feeling of losing myself grew stronger with every passing day. I fell silent…the lights within myself were extinguished and I became an actress in this movie, which I called my life. I played the role of the hardworking woman, who can balance her responsibilities in every aspect of her existence with ease and grace. Family, friends, workplace, household, extra duties in school and kindergarten…everything was “perfectly” balanced on my shoulders, even though I had to deal with some severe diseases, already (and this was even before ME/CFS fucked me hard). These were my days for so many years…and at nights, I couldn’t breathe anymore. Panic attacks, insomnia and OCD had me in their strong grip…choking me whilst I was wandering through the quiet house, checking on my children. This side of myself was my best kept “dirty” secret. Failure was no option for me, so I hid behind my mask at days and suffered through the nights on my own.

Two years ago, ME/CFS put a stopper into my life. I’m not functioning anymore. I lost my value here. The hardworking, overly caring, active woman, I’ve been before, is dead. Killed by pain, overstimulation, disorientation, fatigue, darkness and solitude.

About one year ago, I decided to speak up my mind by showing my longtime love for Severus Snape online for the very first time in my life. I found tumblr and started writing about my deepest feelings, fears and my devotion to this fictional character, which lasts for 21 years, already. Out of the sudden, there were people, who listened to me. People, who talked to me as if I’m still a “normal” human being. People, who became friends with me, even though we’re living thousands of kilometres apart. People, whom I never want to miss again in my life, like my beloved @vulnus-sanare. She showed me, that I’m still alive…that I’m worthy of love. And with this realisation, I found myself again…and this woman is quite okay, despite her sufferings. Magda, my heart, I couldn’t be more grateful that you’ve chosen me to be your friend…the one, you’re sharing your last braincell with. You know, what I’m feeling for you and I can’t wait to see you in person in a few weeks. Thank you for enlightening a spark in my soul, of which I thought, it was gone forever.

Something else happened to me over the past few months. This newfound light in myself seemed to be bright enough to shine across the ocean to New Jersey. I fought hard against these feelings…throwing all my ugly sides at this person in order to scare them away. I’m not loveable and I’m not able to understand this weird concept, called romantic love…at least, that’s what I always thought of myself. In my eyes, “love” has solely been an excuse for hormonal chemistry between people in order to fulfil some kind of biological goal of humanity. For many years, people shook their heads at me for this pragmatic approach to the concept of “love”. I built a cocoon around myself, determined to keep everyone else outside. And now…well, let’s just say, that I’m not convinced by my own sober, level-headed beliefs anymore. My cocoon showed a crack. I lost my heart. Undeniably. Unconditionally.

Who knows, if this love will ever have a future. Only time will tell, but for the moment, I feel home in another person’s heart and this new experience gives me hope and strength to master the upcoming journey of my existence. I’m more than my disability…I’m more than my diseases…I’m more than the actress, I forced myself to be…I’m more than this weak and exhausted mess, I’ve become. I am worthy to be seen and loved…and I’m able to reciprocate this love without hesitation. I feel blessed. Thank you, R. 🖤

Last but not least, I want to thank Mani for this breathtaking piece of art. When I described my idea for this project to you, I was excited to see, what you would do with it. Whenever I try to express something extremely personal with the help of Severus and my OC Jules (okay, I admit, that she’s actually me 😅), I know that you’re the one, who can realise it perfectly. I’m beyond grateful for your kindness and your talent and I’m proud to be seen as your friend, my dear. Feel hugged, Mani! Fly fly! 🫂🫂

🖤Severus & Julia🖤

🖤Sevy & Jules🖤

[skzoologist]

Ok so I have another idea,

So bae is having a bad day and struggling with something, feeling insecure making him feel really stressed and down and he considers harming himself to cope with it thankfully one of the members notice him (Feeling in a minho or chan mood rn so if you could write it as them that would be amazing) and check up on him right before he was about to and stops, him comforting bae

P.S You don't have to write it if you aren't comfortable writing something like this. Ngl I dunno what came over me with this, maybe I am self projecting?

-🐿️

word count: ~2.1k

warnings: self-harm, self-deprecating thoughts

genre: heavy angst, hurt/comfort

a/n: I know I got another ask from a different follower a day ago, but this is just activating my own spidey senses, so this enjoys priority. Also I'm alright writing this, because it touches on a part of Bae's lore that I haven't revealed yet, so don't worry about that. But 🐿️ anon, my sweetie, if you ever really have these thoughts, talk to someone. Anyone. A friend, family, heck, even me or another online person! This isn't a long-term solution, but it can help tremendously. This goes for everyone too: if talking to me or requesting something like this helps, never hesitate to do so! Life is hard and we sometimes need some time and help to recuperate and get back to our feet. There's no shame in it.

Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!

!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!

!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

As soon as Bae opened his eyes, he felt the air heavily pressing onto his skin, as if a weight was fused onto the upper layer. His limbs felt sluggish, as if his own blood and bones were cast out of pure steel and misery. The light that successfully seeped through the thick curtains felt too bright, earning a low hiss from the male.

Mornings after a migraine were always hard to bear.

The one he’d had the previous day was particularly harsh, rendering him useless as he’d been just carried away by his bandmates to the dorms in urgency. All schedules’s been cancelled for him immediately, Chan telling him how it was alright, how he should only ever focus on his own health.

It made his stomach churn.

Everyone was working themselves to the point of exhaustion every single day, yet here he was, laying in bed once again, causing inconvenience for everyone. He hated it with every fibre of his being, the feeling seeping deep inside and nestling there. 

Yet, Bae put a lock onto the gate this monstrous being hid behind, forcing his limbs to move, the motion cumbersome and difficult. What would have only taken him a few minutes now took ten or twenty, an obscuring fog settling over most of his mind. Nothing felt right, yet he powered through it, refusing to leave out another day of work. 

Not even Chan could stop him.

After his morning routine was done and his horribly pale skin was hidden behind makeup, he went out of his room at his own, slow pace, knowing fully well no one else was at the dorms anymore. They were all already at the company, busy with their solo schedules and practices. He himself had to be at a photoshoot in an hour, or at least according to his original, filled out schedule. His hyungs adamantly gave him not only yesterday off, but two other days as well, not leaving him any room for argument.

Little did they know he’d told his own manager to reschedule those two days amidst head-splitting pain and blurry vision. It was an arduous task, but he’d managed.

Once he was down in the lobby and ready to go, his driver was surprised, safe to say, the expression obvious as it sat out onto his face. But he’d been working with Bae for long years now, thus that was the only indication about the idol’s unexpected appearance. No words were exchanged, the two acknowledged the other with a respectful nod and off they were to their destination.

The drive wasn’t long, leaving Bae no time to sink into his thoughts as he watched the scenery fly by through the window. Even the weather was feeling down, the skies grey and melancholic. It felt as if in the next minute the clouds would start weeping, openly pouring their heart out in a silent farewell.

Once the car was parked, he slightly nodded at the driver who was looking back at him, opening the door and stepping out onto still dry pavement. His legs automatically took him into the company, something he was grateful for with his hazy mind. The only thoughts that were coherently formed in there were about his bandmates and how he wished he wouldn’t run into them accidentally. He really didn’t have the energy to hear what they had to say and berate him over not resting.

It seemed like his prayers were heard, nobody noticing him as he was silently walking through the halls, as if he was a ghost tied to them for eternity. The moment the staff saw him enter the room they bowed and greeted him, something he reciprocated silently with a bow of his own. 

He was soon whisked away to a chair, his makeup and hair professionally done. Even if the workers noticed the bags under his eyes or his unnaturally pale complexion, none of them acknowledged it, opting to instead silently work away with precise movements. 

The different array of powder snugly stuck to his skin, just enough to make him feel like the idol he was supposed to be, not a smidge more. The colours were vibrant, the exact opposite of what he felt like under the mask he’d put up, something that fit his idol self only. His bleached, white hair was gently clipped up, a few chosen strands taken out and purposefully left hanging down, framing his face elegantly. A glint caught his eye, the dangly earring in his left ear catching light and shining brightly.

The man who looked back at him in the mirror felt like someone else.

Tearing his gaze away, he let the stylists choose his outfit and got into position, everyone’s eyes on that stranger who he was supposed to be. With a cold gaze he did his job, perfectly executing everything that was expected of him. Even after the sixth outfit change, the final one, and endless photos taken over the course of hours, his expression remained unchanged, focus solely on the camera that was pointed directly at him.

The way back home felt like a blur to him. Stripped of the branded clothes and sheltering makeup on his face, he felt vulnerable, something those dark, swirling thoughts started taking advantage of. He tried to think of anything else, of food or even a favourite TV show.

None of it worked.

They all circled back to how he shouldn’t be skipping the group’s dance practice, how miserable he looked and how he felt nauseous, even though he hadn’t eaten anything all day. Horrendous scenarios played through his head, worsening with every passing second, each ending with him being forced to leave the group.

He really should cook something. If not for himself, then his bandmates, who no doubt would be hungry by the time they got back to the dorms.

But what if… What if they wouldn’t want to eat it? Why would they? After all, he was someone undeserving of their love, to be in the group, useless with a malfunctioning body. He wouldn’t be surprised if one of them finally would have had enough of his constant migraines and the hassle that always came with it, the constant darkness and hushed voices as he was carried away, unmoving.

He also didn’t have an amazingly unique voice like Felix, or dance moves like Minho. Hell, he didn’t even know how to produce music, like 3RACHA.

He was useless.

The knife in his hand glinted, surrounded by half-chopped vegetables. A thought ran through his head, one that would solve all his problems, permanently ending them.

Pale skin drew him in, dark veins peeking through. It felt inviting, as if it somehow grew a mouth itself and called the knife’s name, inescapably alluring.

“Bae?”

His eyes were drawn from the freshly drawn blood, only a few droplets escaping and coating the surface of the blade in a bittersweet vermillion colour. Chan just stood there, frozen, hand stopped midair, no doubt in the process of taking off his bag. Their eyes met, dull ones with pure panic, darting between the knife and Bae’s eyes, as if no matter how hard their owner tried, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

The thud of the bag was loud in the heavy silence, unsure footsteps soon following it.

Bae just watched as the older walked towards him, steps wobbly and out of their usual, steady rhythm. Shaking hands reached towards his own ones, gently prying them apart and away from the stained, sharp object.

An even shakier breath left Chan’s lips as he just stood there, still holding the other’s hands in his gentle hold, blood now painting his skin in small rivers. Their eyes couldn’t meet this time, no, the leader’s own gaze focused on their conjoined hands, expression hidden from the younger.

Not a sound could be heard as Bae was led towards the bathroom, Chan’s hands quietly working away on taking care of the fresh wound. Bae similarly didn’t say anything, not even hiss left his lips when the alcohol touched open skin, or when it was finally sealed off, left to heal in peace.

The two remained there for a while, one standing, the other sitting, until the silence was broken by quiet sniffles, the older’s lip wobbling and eyes shining with unshed tears.

“What were you thinking?” - his voice was a broken little thing, as if he himself got hurt by the knife instead of Bae.

The younger stayed silent, numb and unwilling to burden anyone with his worthless thoughts. He didn’t deserve being cared for like this, something the voices whispered to him relentlessly.

“Bae, why did you do it? Do you hate being with us this much?”

His head snapped up from where he was observing the tiles underneath his feet, wide eyes staring into Chan’s tear-filled ones. Those obsidian orbs were filled with sorrow, the usually bright nebulas now hidden in darkness. The sight alone broke something in Bae, as if he was pulled up onto the surface of an alaskan lake from its deep, imprisoning depths.

A sound left the younger’s lips, something that vaguely resembled a word, yet no one could tell. It was quiet, broken, much like the male himself. More soon followed its wake, finally donning the form of a word and adamantly denying Chan’s question with their sole existence. His head shook as tears finally fell down upon shaking hands, ones that were raised in a sad attempt of hiding away. Chan didn’t hesitate to hug the unravelling boy in front of him, his standing form easily engulfing Bae’s small, sitting one.

“Then why?” - the question was careful, as if a single wrong word could shatter Bae into irreparable pieces.

“I don’t feel worthy to be here.” - that was the simple answer he got.

The grip on the younger tightened impossibly, Chan’s form rigid and unbreathing. It prompted Bae to snake his hands further up, clinging onto the fabric there desperately, hold more secure on his hyung. His head was buried in Chan’s stomach, afraid to be seen like this.

“My moonlight, look at me.” - it was a gentle request, one that was accompanied by tender hands, holding onto tear-stained cheeks and leading them out of their hiding.

Thumbs softly swiped the droplets away from underneath dark, confused eyes.

“You’re one of the hardest working people I’ve ever met, and I’ve been in this demanding industry for longer than anyone should have. There’s a passionate fire burning inside you, one that you never let lose its intensity. Not only do you practise and work relentlessly, you also have amazing talent in everything you do. Your singing is wonderfully soft, perfectly harmonising with anyone you sing with. You know every single one of our dances to the point where if I were to start a song from any point, you would know what dance move goes with it. And you always look amazing, no matter what you wear or do. On top of all that, you never fail to help us or listen to our problems. Never once have you turned us away in all these years.”

Chan’s eyes held a soft light, a gentle smile dancing on his lips. It stole the breath out of Bae’s lungs, his eyes stinging as a fresh wave of tears started forming.

“You can ask any of us, we would only sing your praises. Because they’re true, baby. You might get migraines often, but then what? That doesn’t make you any less of us. You work hard enough already, a little rest won’t take away from that.”

He stopped for a moment, as if a fond memory appeared in front of his eyes.

“Did you know? I love the little snacks you sneak into my bag that I take to the studio with me. I also love the little notes you always give me with it and the silly little drawings on them. I’ve never thrown one out ever since you started giving them to me.”

The look on Chan’s face was entirely too fond, something that Bae couldn’t possibly look at for too long, lest his chest burst into loved pieces. No, hiding into the fabric of his hyung felt better, unwilling to think about the way the man’s lips curved up, dimples peeking through, or the way his eyes were just slightly crinkled, holding the warmth of a star itself even through those crystal droplets.

“You’re loved, Bae. Never forget that.”

[nymphacae]

An Update

It's been a minute. I'll keep this as brief as I possibly can because this is really hard to talk about, but I'll still put this under 'read more' so you're not bombarded with personal shit on the dash.

The truth is, I lost my passion for art a while ago, and I've been struggling to get it back. It's hard when I'm so viciously repulsed by my own art that I get physically ill.

I have not been doing well, for multiple reasons I won't discuss in depth, I just never wanted to be open about it because the internet isn't exactly a great place to cast your woes. But after all this radio silence and worrying about people waiting on me, I'm stuck between wanting to be private and wanting to talk about what's been going on. When the thing is I can't talk about what's going on, really. It's all just too much.

My sense of reality, for one, has been VERY wobbly and I've been struggling with hallucinations, nightmares, and a severe paranoia that makes it very hard to interact with people. I have already made multiple attempts to take my life, one of which was nearly successful and debilitating. I'll spare the grittier details, but even this feels like a grossly-underwhelming overview of everything...I wish I could put this into some pretty-looking comic, or just present this in a more aesthetically-pleasing manner that isn't an ugly wall of text. But I can't, and this is all I have.

Truthfully, I'm scared to death to be this honest. This is already excruciating to type out. This isn't to summon a pity party, it's why I've held off talking about anything for so long - it's more just an explanation on the severity of the situation, and why things have been so stagnant.

I want to create art again, I think, but I'm trapped. I have ideas, but every time I so much as look at my art or I lift up a pencil, I end up getting sick. Being online at all results in panic attacks. I wish it wasn't this way, more than anything, but I've started to accept that this is probably just what I deserve. It's hard to explain.

I don't know...I don't have solutions or promises other than I'm still alive, somehow, and I'm probably working through it. I'm just sorry about the lack of development in anything, I wanted to do so much and it kills me that I haven't.

Blegh, this ended up being long. I'll wrap it up here, no point in saying much more since this is so gloomy. But, to my mutuals that I've seemed distant with because of all this: it is absolutely not your fault and I assure you that I've missed you, I've just been awful at maintaining contact during this time. You're all so amazing and talented and deserve all the support in the world. I hope you know that.

[bobcatmoran]

I had the worst vaccination experience of my life today at the local CVS, and that's counting childhood vaccinations that I can remember crying at. The goal: Getting a flu and Covid vaccine at 4:30 pm, which I had signed up for online earlier this week.

I had to wait an hour past my appointment and that wasn't nearly the worst part. Everyone I encountered was simultaneously clearly overworked and terrible at their job. I realize this is kind of par for the course at CVS nowadays, but I got my Covid booster there last year and it was fine. This was. Not. On just so many levels.

First off, I got an email two minutes before my appointment, reminding me to arrive five minutes before my appointment. The check-in link didn't work, and the first CVS pharmacy tech I talked to about it told me to go wait on the chairs by the consultation room where they were giving vaccines. Then she told me after 5 minutes of that, whoops, I was not checked in in any way, shape, or form by just going to sit in a chair and I needed to come up to the Consultation Window to talk to the one (1) pharmacist on duty. He was on a phone call with an insurance company. More waiting. He then couldn't find me in the system despite my having received an email from CVS for my appointment. Eventually, after much confusion, he declared me checked in and told me to go wait.

While I was waiting, the guy giving vaccines took like 15 minutes for one person, came out after another long pause, asked for someone who wasn’t there, then asked for the names of all 4 of us waiting, stared bewildered at his tablet, and then wandered off behind the counter. It was 1/2 hour past my appointment at this point.

Nearly an hour past my appointment, the guy finally came back, and first says that the lady sitting next to me will go first. Then she pointed out that I'd been there the longest and was supposed to be seen at 4:30.

Vaccine guy's solution to this is to maybe just bring us all in at once because he printed out all our paperwork. Mass vaccination, whee. He insists on me and the lady sitting next to me to going in together. We both acknowledge this is weird, but we've both been waiting so long we just want to get out of here. The vaccine room is a disaster. Honestly, I probably should have turned around and left at that point. There was an overflowing wastebasket, wrappers for alcohol wipes and bandaid backings and cottonballs on the floor. The desk was chaos.

He called me by a new, exciting mispronounciation of my name that I've somehow never heard before, misread my birth date as being in March, then held out the bag of cottonballs and told me to take the last one. Then he left to find more cottonballs. There were no more in the pharmacy stock. He declared that he would take a bag from the shelves and they can yell at him later. Then he realized he was out of gloves. A similar song and dance ensued.

He then opened up the contraband bag of cottonballs, told me to take two more, and handed me a set of two bandaids, telling me to open them. This was all interspersed with him describing how understaffed they were and when you are done with this you can have a good laugh. He was clearly very past his last possible fuck to give.

Eventually, I was vaccinated, but not before he took both bandaids from me, put one on top of a cottonball on my arm where I got the flu shot, then gave me the covid vax, was confused about where the second bandaid went, and fished another from the box. Meanwhile, the opened, unused bandaid was sitting on top of the paperwork, where he had put it.

He put cottonball-bandaid combo on the second vax site, and I and the remaining cottonball he gave me to hold left. Quickly. I mouthed to the other people waiting, (who could hear everything because there is zero soundproofing on their "consultation" room) "Good luck."

I am never going to that CVS again. What the actual fuck was any of that.

[beyonceisstraight]

Just watched "we need to talk about Kevin" and I've met children who were unable to bond to their mother's and were abused, children with selective mutism and kids with deep issues bordering on personality disorders. All the discussions online are normal people trying to figure out how the mother fucked up because they don't seem to understand story elements. It's a collective fuck up. The unsupported mother, the husband who gaslights her and ignore her warnings over and over, the doctor who should have set up a psyche eval bc the kid was 3 and not speaking. the parents not hiring therapists and going to one themselves.

I was 1 before I said a word and a year passed before I said another. I had what I'm very sure was a narcissistic mother. As an adult I scream when I think about how a quiet child was a good child for her bc it meant I made no noise to disturb her. She thought it was really funny that I didn't talk and only asked for water. She'd recount it often. She'd recount how I communicated with sound and gesture and she'd communicate right back rather than try to get me to talk.

To bring that back to the movie? Me emotionally neglected and showing many signs of my development being affected but also really smart as a child and perceptive of adults flew under the radar. A kid that's manipulating people on purpose and has no real empathy? A few adults will notice but in real life there's nothing to do. The little girl I knew of who was being abused could have nothing done bc there was no proof. Only what her principal could clue together. What people would say. Her mother was beating her as a toddler. She was only 3 and a half and you could see the intelligence behind her eyes seeking out which adult she could fawn to and get attention from. She did it with me for a while but I at least knew she was acting out. 3 and a half was not an age I'd guess a child was being beaten at. And only after weeks of interacting was anything said to me about it because she had a really bad morning because she had a really bad night. (This did not take place in the US so there's no body that functions the way CPS does. So proof was needed before anything could be reported.) Kevin? I know that boy. I didn't feel sympathy for that character bc you could see the adult that would come. His mother? She's always been his supply of sorts. The parents talk about divorce. Custody. The dad says custody is a no brainer. The mom was just accusing Kevin of harming their daughter. So Kevin would be stuck with the parent that would reject him if he actually dropped the mask: his dad. Solution: lock his mother to him forever. The only time she hugs him and shows affection is when he's off to adult prison. If he hadn't killed his father and sister she could be able to move on but she can't. All she's become now is the aftermath of what he did. The things he does builds in the film and the way he knows what will happen if he does something like murder, is because she says nothing when he kills his sisters pet. It's not enough that he killed it, he stuffs it down the drain for the disposal to churn up. And he knew she would do that and see and know and she instantly covers it up. That moment in the movie tells you what happened. The fire fighters cutting into the bike locks that he put on the school doors is a larger echo of the disposal grinding up his little sisters pet.

I don't get why people are diving into tilda swintons character. Eva isn't the main topic. The movie is called we need to talk about Kevin. Kevin's and their fucked up shit gets ignored and quietly covered until it spills out on other people. We need to talk about how there's a million million Kevin's out there right now. So insane that people get locked up in Eva and not Kevin. And you know what part of that I think is? Male violence is so normal that it's boring. It does not lend itself to being talked about because we'd be here all day. But we can blame the mother? She raised him sure but who put the weapons in his hands? His father. The metaphor is a snake biting the audience. His father is pretending for the entire movie. Pretending his son is normal. He plays pretend with his daughter. He's not connected to real life. He's never listening to women but blaming them. His solution to his wife thinking Kevin might harm his little sister again, is divorce. The divorce that Kevin overhears them talk about and then what does Franklin do? He pretends to Kevin that he didn't hear what he just heard. Tells Kevin he's heard something out of context. He starts to try to gaslight Kevin. Frank is the one who turns a blind eye to both what his wife wants and his son needs and projects the idea of big house and yard. The father that he is, is the type of father who ignores and supports only what he likes. What grown man would rather change a 7 year olds diapers than take the child to professional help? He avoids everything. And even in other people's discussion of this movie they never say anything about it.

One of the most common repeated patterns I see again and again in women with PDD is a partner who does fuck all. Now the baby has psychological issues. I've met women who walk barefoot in the sun to help their PDD so it won't affect their baby. The dad? Doing fuck all. The kid doesn't even have an honest bond with his dad bc that's not what his dad wants. His real self is reserved for his mother bc he knows she'll literally wipe his shit. Extremely dysfunctional family all around.

Anyway, we need to talk about white parenting and the monsters they keep raising.