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#everything is just awful and i hate everything about myself and my life situation and the world is terrible and theres no hope lol

boldlygoingtohell · 5 months

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In a weird way, as a Jew, I can kinda take Normal Antisemitism™️.

I mean, I understand where right-wing racists are coming from when it comes to their antisemitism. At the end of the day, theirs just comes from fear, replacement theory, etc… It’s easily identifiable. 2+2=4. Yea its shitty, but I see how they got from A to B and it’s a straight line.

But left-wing antisemitism?? Like, how does that happen? I thought the left was about supporting minority groups, encouraging them to speak and be heard. But all I’m seeing from leftists these days (I myself being super fucking liberal, left, etc…) is just waves and waves of antisemitism. And yes it has to do with Israel, but these people are incapable of criticizing the Israeli government without going “all Jews are responsible!” in the process. It's infuriating.

Are all the the world’s Jews, millions of which live OUTSIDE of Israel, now responsible for Israel’s actions? I'M a stupid American! I’ve never even BEEN to Israel, much less know the intricate details of a geo-political conflict whose complexities go willfully unlearned by armchair activists in favor of yelling in all caps for 140 characters.

But what really gets me, and I mean REALLY get me about the whole situation, is the hypocrisy.

Remember how awful it was when we saw waves of Islamophobic hate crimes after 9/11, American Muslims with no ties to al-Qaeda being targeted for the faith those terrorists claimed to represent?

Or do you remember standing against the wave of anti-Asian hate crimes that was spurned on by COVID falsehoods? The “China virus” as Trump so eloquently put it? You remember being pissed about that, not blaming Asian Americans but standing with them against hate?

And hell, I’ve heard there has been a rash of Islamophobic attacks again because of the Israeli-Gaza conflict. That’s fucking awful, and I will stand against that bull shit because it does not belong here, end of story.

But now there are also antisemitic attacks, hate crimes, being perpetrated around the world. And who are the perpetrators now? The left that stood against everything else. There's no widespread ally-ship for Jews like me. There's no sweeping social media campaign, no catchy hashtag, no ice bucket challenge.

Why am I allowed to be condemned for what a country on the other side of the world is doing, when I have nothing to do with it? Why can I have the finger pointed at me when I don’t want the fighting in the first place? Why must Jews be allowed to be the target of this ire when it's already been decided that other ethnicities/religions don't deserve it either?

Now, I am PROUD to be Jewish; it is my culture, in my heritage, in my literal blood. It is in my genetics, my bones, my spoken language, it is in the holidays I celebrate, the philosophies I live by.

But it is also in the generational trauma of my mother insisting I have a passport as a young child, not because we were traveling, but in case we had to flee. It is in her inherent distrust of the government; a card-carrying Democrat all her life, she would always remind me, "if you don't think the government can't turn on you, you're kidding yourself." It is her constant reminders that as a Jew, our assimilation is conditional, our acceptance is political. I felt these, but never as strongly as she did. Not until now.

I am third generation American, and yet I feel like an outsider in the only country I have ever known. People who I thought understood, who were my friends, who marched with me against the injustices of the world, are now calling after Jews to answer for Israel's actions.

I say I don't want the violence to persist and I'm told that I'm, "one of the good ones". I'm told hurt Israelis don't deserve sympathy because, "all Jews are rich anyway, right? Who cares." I tell them my fears about the rising antisemitism and wearing my star of david necklace out. I'm told, "it doesn't matter, you're white anyway."

For the first time in my life, the racists aren't just some crazy KKK members. They're not just Nazis marching around with beer bellies and ill fitting helmets. It's not just some screeching street preacher who claims I'm going to hell after he caught the glint off my star of david necklace. If needs be, I can kick and punch my way out of those. They're just idiots. Isolated, concentrated incidents. It'd be a good story to tell at a bar the next day though a gap-toothed smile and a sling on my shoulder.

But now, both sides are coming after me and my people. Now, it's not just idiots who have all of their views backwards; it's people I thought I could trust to have my back, to go down swinging with me against those Nazis. Right. Left. It's everywhere. There's no escape.

It's coming from all sides. It's coming from social media platforms, from dinners with friends, from posters on street lamps.

I live in one of the safest, most Jewish neighborhoods in America, and for the first time in my life I am truly scared.

#jumblr #antisemitism #judaism #jewish #I'm just so tired of it all #I wasn't an anxious person before this #racism #long post I guess #can we go back to the days of punching Nazis?#life was simple

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redleavesinthewind · 3 months

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elliot's 2023 fic wrap up

2022 version

alright friends it is once again time for me to review the (many) fics i read in the previous year and try to write a more or less concise rec list of my absolute faves (i wish i didn't have to chose but heh i'm not gonna subject anyone to 332 fics in 1 post - also wait only 332 fics? that's like. over 100 less than last year, what the fuck. anyway)

okay now first the part that interests no one but me (yes you may skip this) and that's the numbers part! i'm not making a whole elaborate spreadsheet to then not throw around cool numbers. anyway.

i've read around 4,932k words in 332 fics across 18 fandoms. that is much less than last year, and yeah, i've been generally less productive in 2023 but we don't have to talk about it. at least i have more variety of fandoms this time (let's ignore that it's only 2 more and also that from fandom 13 on there's only 1 fic per fandom)

i started out the year strong with 847k words across 72 fic in february (followed by 753k across 42 fics in january, and 621k words across 63 fics in march). it goes downhill for the rest of the year. eh it wasn't my year so what! 2024 is gonna be more filled with fic reading again!!!

my top 3 fandoms are so entirely unsurprising to me i am almost disappointed in myself. when did i become so predictable. top fandom is young royals with 166 fics! congratulations young royals, you are a very persistent hyperfixation, you didn't peter out after 2 months like i expected. Spot number 2 is taken by avatar the last airbender with 41 fics! giant leap there, but it's also funny because i fell into an atla rabbit hole late 2023 (as i do every few years) and it still got up to 41 fics despite uni not allowing me to read last semester (uni is evil). Same as last year, spn takes third place with 38 fics. speaking of persistent hyperfixations.......... *big sigh*

and that is it the boring part is over let's go to the fun section LET'S REC SOME FIIIIIICCCCSSSSSSS (under the cut)

JANUARY

bet you you'll ... (noraverse) (series) by @gh0sthugs | young royals, wilmon | teen&up | 52k words

a kid fic!! and such a sweet one too! i'm kinda weak for kid fics ngl, and nora is so sweet and wonderful, and the relationship that slowly forms between wille and simon is beautiful and comfortable. this whole series is just such a good time

spreadsheet notes: ah to fall in love with the dilf next door who also happens to be the ex crown prince of the country

A Royal Intervention by AnxiousAnaconda | young royals, wilmon | teen&up | 18k words

erik is being such a dumbass in this one. like, he means well, but he's kinda messing up and pissing people off (understandably). it's nice to get a view on erik that's not portraying him as this perfect guy though, and the fic is actually so much fun to read. and hey, the prime minister of luxembourg gets mentioned, which i was kinda waiting for in yr fic ngl

spreadsheet notes: big sigh... erik you fucking idiot. stop listening to august. also shoutout to xavier bettel apparently (edit: this aged poorly, fuck xavier bettel)

and each slow dusk by @if-fortunate | young royals, wilmon | mature | 49k words

okay. ooookay how do i even begin with this one. ohhh boy. okay. so. world war three. wille gets stuck in bjärstad with simon, many many things happen, it's about finding hope in a horrible situation and trying to live life despite everything falling apart around you. it's incredibly well written and something about it just has me in awe

spreadsheet notes: i don't know what it says about me that this is without a shadow of a doubt the best fic i have ever read in my life

Put Me Back Together and Take My Heart by @notalotgoingonatthisinstant | young royals, wilmon | mature | 50k words

i once again don't know what to say, this one is sooo good. simon is suffering and both wille and i hate it, but... but wille is there for him and ugh, they just... they just can't be apart. a story of reconciliation and healing from both physical and invisible wounds, and of making the right decisions for yourself

spreadsheet notes: ugh. UGH. my guys. MY GUYS. yeah let's go blackmail the queen

Department Six by @thisdiscontentedwinter | teen wolf | gen | 4k words

a fun short one about stiles and danny working for the fbi and being delightfully weird and mysterious

spreadsheet notes: HILARIOUS i'm in love with outsider pov always

FEBRUARY

There Are No Wolves in California by @thisdiscontentedwinter | teen wolf, sterek | gen | 5k words

you know, sometimes you see a fic you know is going to hurt you, and you've never clicked on anything faster. this is definitely one of those fics

spreadsheet notes: let's be wolves today yeah well derek what if i just break down and cry instead

you got my body, i got your body by @prince-simon | young royals, wilmon | explicit | 9k words

this one's technically part of a bigger series (which, definitely read that one too), but i'm highlighting this one cause... damn... this made me feel things... like, gender things... which is really weird cause wille's gender in this is very much different from mine BUT STILL

spreadsheet notes: how almost 9k of pwp gave me so many gender feelings i will never understand

Changing Channels: Queer Premiere by @emeraldcas, @fellshish | spn, deancas | gen | 27k words

this might actually be one of the funniest fics i've ever read. dean and cas are so stupid (affectionately) and all the crossovers are delightful (bonus that i knew all the other shows). everyone go read this it's gonna be the best time

spreadsheet notes: mel and fells have genuinely outdone themselves this is the most hilarious shit i've ever read

Catalyst by @stretchoutfics | young royals | teen&up | 3k words

a backstory for boris! this fic is within a series of other side character ficlets, but this one has a soft spot in my heart

spreadsheet notes: AAAAHHHH HE KNEW ABOUT THE RECKLESS DRIVING BUT DIDN'T BRING IT UP but also... him being a gay man trying to help the queer crown prince navigate his sexuality that's kinda nice actually, like boris understands at least a bit

The most beautiful boy by lovelysarcastic | young royals, wilmon | teen&up | 88k words

there's something incredibly grounding about this fic. the way it develops, the way wille rationalises his thought processes, the way the relationship between wille and simon develops... this fic just kinda sucked me in and spit me out again feeling... content and calm and... it's just... this fic is so beautiful

spreadsheet notes: dude i love this so much??? they're both so stupid??? i love them???

MARCH

All's Fair in Love and Hunting by @badjoices | spn, deancas | mature | 20k words

they're playing gay chicken but also are being incredibly competitive and stupid about it, and i'm just sorry about the shit sam has to witness. so many shenanigans in this fic

spreadsheet notes: they are both so stupid omg

["mi cotufita" started sharing their screen] by @omar-rudeberg | young royals, wilmon | explicit | 60k

so... this is a follow up to one of my favourite fics and it is a delight. very horny but also very sweet? and also for some reason there's porn. fun times! oh, and this fic made me cry. it really has the range

spreadsheet notes: how are they so horny it's so funnyyyyyy, but also if i were wille i could never look linda in the eyes again

A Light To Guide You In The Dark (Warmed By The Fire's Glow) by 80shairmetal | stranger things, harringrove | teen&up | 19k words

this is just... people taking care of each other out of the kindness of their hearts. finding comfort in strangers who become family. growing and helping each other. there's such a beauty to this one

spreadsheet notes: this is just..... comfort

did you see the love in my eyes, oh were you gazing through this disguise? by @tooindecisivetopickaurl | young royals, wilmon | mature | 67k words

fake dating my beloved. they're so in love with each other but they're pretending not to be while pretending... to be? i'm obsessed with them. but they're so respectful with each other and cautious of boundaries and they really are best friends who also happen to be obliviously in love

spreadsheet notes: love a good fake dating au they're so stupid i love them

flash like a setting sun by @playedwright | 911, buddie | explicit | 22k words

because you only realise you're in love with your best friend when you're scared you're losing him. that's the fic. and it's beautiful

spreadsheet notes: oh this is sooooo beautifully written and ugh just <333

Other people's secrets by @sflow-er | young royals, walty & wilmon | mature | 239k words

yooooo hello? so first off this is an outsider pov on wilmon which i am always obsessed with anyways but the focus isn't just on them, this is henry's story. it's a beautiful story about how friendships form and warp and change, how feelings manifest in different ways, how decisions and actions have consequences. it's an incredibly mature take on post-s1, and it's probably my favourite of the year. also ace representation!!!!

spreadsheet notes: ace henry my beloved <33 also love seeing wilmon from an outside perspective! such a good, well thought out fic with lots of healthy comminication <33

APRIL

if i stare too long by @brawlite & @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger | stranger things, harringroveson | explicit | 191k words

i haven't seen st s4 (and probably won't watch it) but that definitely won't stop me from reading harringroveson fic. i mean, who wouldn't look at those three and immediately want to see them together. the way their dynamic is written in this fic is peak, i don't even know what more to say. i also very much trust these authors with billy, and again i wasn't disappointed. there's just something in his head that's intriguing.

spreadsheet notes: this whole fic is such a vibe it makes me feel of hot summer chillin

MAY

Rewrite the Stars (series) by @in-amor-veritas | young royals, wilmon | mature | 137k words

definitely one of the highlights of the year, simon's whole life in new york... those scenes, they just show such a wonderful life simon has built for himself, and his relationship with wille doesn't change it, but he manages to fit in (after, you know, fun rom-com drama shenanigans). also. this is a kid fic. kid fics are my weak spot. rasmus is my new favourite little guy. also shoutout to luis best side character ever

spreadsheet notes: YELLING i love this fic sooo much it is everything

Where The Wind Will Carry Me by @1-life-to-give | young royals, wilmon | teen&up | 49k words

AND THEY WERE ACTORS PLAYING LOVE INTERESTS. do i have to say more? the tension guys the TENSION. also erik's side-plot i'm in love

spreadsheet notes: hopping up and down like a hyperactive chihuahua EN I LOVE THIS

Your love is my turning page (the t4t wilmon as girldads au) (series) by @willesworld | young royals, wilmon | teen&up | 17k words

i know i know another kid fic BUT!!!! t4t wilmon. makes it automatically superior. i'm not even kidding, add trans characters and i will like your fic (that i probably already like a lot) aroun 300000000 times more. but also this series comes for your feelings. it hits

spreadsheet notes: i am weak for t4t wilmon AND them having a biological child there's something so beautiful about it like that could be meeee ; siiimon i need to hug him and i need to hug wille they're gonna get out of this i prommy ; recovery and one step forwards a hundred steps back, but they made it there in the end ; they were so happy :((((

JUNE

A trace of dew by nuncflore | elden ring, this is too complicated | gen | 13k words

very elden ring-esque writing style, wonderful representation of whatever the hell is going on in the lore. hehehehehhe fucked up family ehhehehehe DIVORCE. my friends are so talented :))

spreadsheet notes: CAP I AM EATING YOU

Hanging from the Ceiling by @spicymiilk | spiderverse | teen&up | 6k words

for like. a week after i saw the new spiderverse movie i made miles 42 my entire life. that also meant reading this fic. and damn did this fic hit. i am still thinking about it

spreadsheet notes: i need more miles 42 content he is my favourite guy ever

The Darkest Little Paradise by @yourdemiurge | young royals, wilmon | explicit | 79k words

*holding you at gunpoint* read this fic. read it now, in this moment. you are not gonna regret it. believe me when i say you NEED this fic, you really do. doesn't even matter if you've seen yr or not. you're gonna thank me later

spreadsheet notes: THIS IS INSANE I CAN'T BREATHE MADY WHAT THE FUUUUUCK

JULY

Protected (series) by bastuba | young royals, wilmon | explicit | 69k words

hey do you ever read a fic and you just feel. so incredibly grounded because something about the characters feels grounded? like, they aren't grounded, but they still give off that vibe? idk how to explain this properly but that's this fic. also wille and simon cook together (i haven't read all parts of the series yet btw)

spreadsheet notes: incredibly grounded very mature how is wille like this ; i'd be like wille, always complaining about the heat ; they're soooooo. idiots. getting tattoos for each other ; i too would come out on a podcast about food ; SAFE SEX

AUGUST

The Season of Rebirth by @notalotgoingonatthisinstant | young royals, wilmon | mature | 30k words

part of a series, but i'm picking out this one specifically because it's soooo sweet!!! the title fits the fic so well, like yes it is the season of rebirth, but simon and wille's relationship is also rehashed in a very cool way, this fic is like one giant easter egg, i love it so much!

spreadsheet notes: wille taking the season of rebirth to recreate their early relationship, i am obsessed with him he's such a dumbass romantic

The Upgrade by @groenendaelfic | young royals, wilmon | explicit | 13k words

it's about the moment simon realises who wille is. that's why this fic is here. i mean of course also because it is very good, but mainly because of that moment

spreadsheet notes: the moment simon realised who wille is i am wheezing

Right Where You Left Me by @armandgender | spn, deancas | explicit | 94k words

if you're wondering why this fic is on my 2023 list instead of the 2022 list.... well that's because it took me almost a year to read the last chapter, and in terms of how my spreadsheet works, that makes it a fic i read in 2023. anyway. if you haven't read this fic yet, what are you even still doing here. click on that link right now. you want complex emotional situations? intricacies of ill-advised marriages? you wanna pick through abusive behaviour and encourage infidelity? well you're at the right place! also this has one of my favourite jack characterisations ever. it also made me go on multiple rants

spreadsheet notes: I FINALLY FINISHED IT AAAAHHHH I LOVE THIS FIC THE CABIN THE CATS JACK!!!!!

Alejito y Marimar (series) by th0ughts | red, white, and royal blue | teen&up | 18k words

OBSESSED WITH THIS DYNAMIC YOOOOOO. seriously the friendship between alex and martha is an expansion of the rwrb universe that is much needed, trust me

spreadsheet notes: the friendship i didn't know i needed in my life <333 ; they're just chillin!!!

SEPTEMBER

Change of Address (series) by hearmerory | avatar: the last airbender, zukka | mature | 134k words

okay. oooookay. strap in for this one, it is a lot. emotionally. like yes zuko is autistic, yes yes yeeees, i agree, also azula is treated like an actual person with actual mental issues, she deserves to be treated with care and this author definitely does that! this is the kind of series that makes me want to disappear in it, but it's also the kind of story i need breaks from, because it is so heavy (definitely check the tags for this one). zuko's relationship with sokka is written so thoughtfully and iroh is characterised incredibly and the author even included ursa in a way that didn't undermine everything that happened in the series before she appeared again. i can only recommend this one!

spreadsheet notes (there's lots of parts to the series, so this one is long): hhhh if i were ms jamieson i would have snapped after two days probably ; be nice katara!!!!! he's nervous ; i need to murder ozai ; and i need to murder zhao as well ; iroooohhhhh he should have just. taken the kids with him that first time he noticed something off ; yeah i think there was a reason why iroh never took zuko to the movies ; ozai needs to suffer ; i need to destroy ozai. violently and painfully ; iroh is the best uncle ever, zuko deserves all his kindness ; azula...... you don't have to fight for affection, it's not a competition..... they love you ; iroh should have taken her with him the first time around, she was like. 10, he could have just picked her up or sth ; ..... hakoda you idiot ; IROH BACKSTORY IROH BACKSTORY ; sokka and the plan that changed his life <3333 ; they are so soft with each other ; they all deserve all the therapy and support and yes sokka obviously you have adhd get with the program ; URSA??????? also i am living for sokka and azula's dynamic they are everything ; i don't. i don't understand her. i don't fucking understand her how could she not want her own children. how can she talk about them like that. like she knows them she doesn't know them she LEFT

Every night my teeth are falling out by @sulkybender | avatar: the last airbender, zukka | mature | 9k words

i was in need of some good zuko angst and oooohhh boy was i lucky to find this author. PEAK zuko angst. this fic in particular is very dear to me because it explores how mental illnesses would be handled in a world where there's practically no resources to help. i think we need that more

spreadsheet notes: yes well. how DO you deal with a schizophrenic fire lord in a fantasy world? (you stay with him and support him that is how)

OCTOBER

for years or for hours by @ghostinthelibrarywrites | the witcher, geralt/eskel/jaskier | explicit | 52k words

listennn i love myself some good polyamory fics, and this is the first fic i read for this ship and now i am OBSESSED with them. but this fic in particular.... the concept alone, like. what do you do when you thought the man you love was dead for 800 years, and then when he comes back you have another man you love. the answer is simple. polyamory. the two men you love also love each other. perfect coincidence.

spreadsheet notes: YO the concepts of witchers in modern times alone is sooo cool but adding in everything else? hello yes?

this is a love story by @achillestiel | supernatural, deancas | mature | 3k words

listen, i've never seen fleabag, but that's not the point. this is intriguing and funny, that's the point

spreadsheet notes: fucked up families and you want to fuck the priest hell yeah

The road not taken looks real good now by @stretchoutfics | young royals, wilmon | explicit | 90k words

it's not even the wilmon part i love about this fic (i very much enjoy it of course don't get me wrong) but wille and his kids. like, i don't want to spoil anything but like. wille's interactions with his kids are so important in this fic, and they're written so well. like, emilia is my favourite character in this, i kinda wish there was more with the kids honestly. this fic is definitely a highlight of the year, and to get back to wilmon, i do love how they're portrayed in this fic, how their dynamic plays out, and specifically how certain decisions do not depend on simon

spreadsheet notes: no but. the care put into this story. i can't--

NOVEMBER

Averno (series) by @sulkybender | avatar: the last airbender, zukka | mature | 12k words

a fascinating take on a fire lord zuko that was never part of the gaang

spreadsheet notes: HE JUST DESERVES KINDNESS but also he's a little fucked up WELL NO WONDER GIVE HIM KINDNESS ; i mean.... what makes a monster really ; well then let's get him out of his cell shall we (also hiiiii suki hello <3333)

Half Awake in Our Fake Empire by @hmslusitania | 9-1-1, buddie | teen&up | 34k words

another kid fic!!! but in a different fandom this time!!! seriously, giving buck a child fills so many of my life's needs it's ridiculous

spreadsheet notes: THEY'RE A FAMILY (thank you for giving that man a child)

a soldier (who carries a mighty sword) by @ghostinthelibrarywrites | the witcher, geralt/eskel/jaskier | explicit | 92k words

everything about this fic is wonderful!! the world(kaer morhen!!)building, the developing dynamic between geralt, jask, and eskel, ciri and yenn, the conflict, jask as a teacher!!!! aaahhhhh!

spreadsheet notes: they're my new favourite guyssss this whole fic is so cool, what they've done with kaer morhen <3333

Will We Last the Night by CSHfic & VSfic | avatar: the last airbender, zukka | teen&up | 143k words

this fic asks what if sokka had been stuck with zuko since the end of s1 and delivers a delightful answer. this is the adventures of zuko and sokka (and sometimes iroh) travelling through the earth kingdom. shenanigans ensue

spreadsheet notes: i am obsessed with this i'm just. i know it was only shortly but their life in ba sing se. obsessed

DECEMBER

Grudge Match by @catcas22 | elden ring | gen | 17k words

i'm not entirely sure how to explain this. it sure is an elden ring fic

spreadsheet notes: i don't even know what to say. this is ridiculous and brilliant and stupid and genius all at the same time. hell yeah suburban demigods

Lonely Digging by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger | stranger things, harringrove | teen&up | 3k words

this is hilarious. go read it to unlock intense life-threatening flirting

spreadsheet notes: best way to flirt billy's doing everything right

***

(quick note: i’ve tried to find everyone’s tumblr handle, but i’m aware that not all the authors have tumblr/have it on their ao3, however if i somehow missed someone, i can go back and rectify that!)

if you’ve made it all the way down here i am giving you a kiss <3

#pigeon coos #fic reading shenanigans #fic rec #ALL THE LOVE TO FIC WRITERS YOU GUYS ARE DOING AMAZING!!!!

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tinytinyblogs · 8 months

Text

Jeongin In Love With You

Love

(n.) Giving the last piece of pizza no matter how much you want it.

Stray kids masterlist here

Jeongin was curious about falling in love. He had listened to his friends' stories about their relationships, and they all seemed so cute and sweet. He had also watched many dramas about love, and they all made it look so amazing. Jeongin wanted to know what it was like to be in love. He wanted to feel the butterflies in his stomach and the excitement of knowing that he was special to someone. He wanted to be able to share his life with someone and build a future together.

He found it difficult to connect with people, especially because he was so clumsy and he forgot everything easily. He feels so awkward in public that he always puts on a face that makes people think he doesn't want to talk to them. This makes it difficult for him to get close to others. People were not always welcoming to him, and it made him a little bit sad.

Today was another day he was supposed to meet someone, but he overslept. He was late, and the person he was supposed to meet had already walked away. He stood there, his eyes glued to the ground, as the rain started to fall. He didn't even bring an umbrella, and he absolutely hated this day so much. He wondered if it was really so hard to find someone who would accept him and understand him.

He let the rain soak him a little bit at a time, until he couldn't feel the rain anymore. He looked up and saw you standing there with an umbrella. "You shouldn't be standing here and let the rain get you wet," you said. "You'll get sick tomorrow." Jeongin chose to stay silent, listening to your nagging. He thought you looked cute in that oversized hoodie, and somehow, he felt glad that someone cared about him, even though he didn't know you. You pulled him closer to make sure he didn't get wet.

"Where do you want to go?" Jeongin woke up from his daydream, admiring you as you asked him. "Home," you hummed, looking at the rain, which had gotten heavier. "I would love to help you out, but I need my umbrella to stay dry myself." you said, pointing to the restaurant across the street with your finger. Jeongin tracked your finger with his eyes, eager to see what you were pointing at. "But I think we could go there and get something to eat until the rain stops."

Jeongin didn't give you a response. "I'm sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable. I'm just trying to be friendly." you said to him, he didn't respond, which made you feel uneasy. You wondered if he thought you were weird, but you knew that he actually liked talking to you and listening to your voice. You didn't want to make the situation any more awkward, so you pushed your umbrella into his hand even though you had already said you didn't want to lend it to him. You didn't want him to get soaked but he held your hand that was gripping the umbrella. "Let's go there. I want to eat too."

Jeongin found you different from the other people he had met. You treated him with kindness and understanding, He had never met anyone like you before, and he found himself drawn to you. He felt comfortable around you, and he could be himself. He was clumsy enough to almost drop everything, but you just laughed it off and called him cute. He found his heartbeat going crazy, and he wondered if this was what love felt like.

You spent your time with him, and he was really fun to be with. You talked to him like you had known him for a while. He told you that he was supposed to be on a blind date, but he overslept. You laughed because it was silly, and he loved your laugh. The rain had stopped, and you didn't even notice at first. It was time to go, and you were both standing in front of the restaurant. "Thanks for the company," you said as you turned to face him. "Eating alone in a restaurant is awful."

He nodded his head slowly, admitting to himself that you made him feel comfortable. This was the first time he had felt so connected with a random person, even though it wasn't a date. "Can I meet you again?" he asked. "It was really fun to talk to you." You smiled slightly, knowing that you weren't the only one who wanted to keep this unexpected friendship, Who knows what the future holds for the two of you? Perhaps your relationship will blossom into something more than friendship. "I'd like that," you said. "We can exchange numbers."

As you both said goodbye and walked away, Jeongin put a smile on his face. Today was not as bad as he thought. He had finally met someone who made him feel comfortable and excited. He could feel his heartbeat racing while he talked to you, and he couldn't wait to see what would happen between the two of you. He had never felt this way about anyone before, and he knew that he was falling in love. He knew that love at first sight was a real thing, and it was the most amazing feeling in the world.

He couldn't wait to see you again, and he knew that he would never forget this day.

Note: I've finished writing the SKZ in Love With You series, and I'm not sure what to write next.I know my story is not very good, but I appreciate you taking the time to read it anyway. I'm grateful to everyone who has liked or reblogged my posts, it means a lot to me and keeps me motivated to write more.

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theerurishipper · 5 months

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The biggest truth that solves all plot holes in Miraculous: they’re bad writers.

No excuse of this being a kids show works because if you want to be not held accountable for holes then fine act like SpongeBob

but you can’t have everything

Yeah. I didn't give a damn about the "plot holes" in Seasons 1-2, or even Season 3 to some extent, because those were mostly monster of the week type of episodes. Sure, there were some semblances of plot and world-building, but it was still mostly episodic and the show still mostly focused on being goofy and entertaining, so I turned of my brain and enjoyed it greatly.

But then Season 4 came along and tried to change the tone of the series entirely, from being a monster of the week to having an actual plot and overarching story, and proved that the writers for the show don't really know how to do that? And then they started digging their holes deeper and deeper and made so many baffling decisions in the writing that the show just turned into a huge mess, full of unresolved plot points, underdeveloped characters, convoluted storytelling, and many unfortunate implications.

And it's like you said. If the show wants me to take it seriously, I will. I'm going to look at a show for what it is. When the show was presenting itself as a goofy episodic show to entertain kids, I judged it as such and I enjoyed it, because Miraculous is good at that. I loved Seasons 1 and 2. Season 3 less so, because it started The Plot™, and it wasn't good at that, but I still enjoyed a lot of it. But Seasons 4 and 5 came along and demanded I take them seriously, so I did. And they weren't good, because the writers aren't good at that kind of storytelling. They're good at goofy shenanigans, but not at complex plots and characters.

And "it's a kids show" is not an excuse. Kids shows can explore complex subjects and can have great plots and characters (ATLA). But it still has to be, you know, good. Kids aren't stupid. I know that kid me would have also hated the Season 5 finale, because Adrien is my favorite, and he wasn't there, and they made Marinette lose.

But at the same time, this is still a show for kids. Miraculous is a kids show, and therefore, it has the responsibility to not promote harmful messages. What would an abused child who is in a situation similar to Adrien's think when they see him call Gabriel a hero in the finale and say that he doesn't know if he'll ever be like him? Children aren't stupid and incapable of understanding anything, and they do deserve good quality of writing, but they also aren't capable of complex media analysis. And when you see people making these long-ass posts talking about how the finale is actually not what it seems like, actually, you have to consider the target audience. A kid isn't going to be picking up on the deep and nuanced hidden meanings in Gabriel final moments that prove he hasn't changed. They are going to see Gabriel hugging his wife, smiling and surrounded by pretty and warm lights while beautiful music plays. If we have to write all these long theories justifying the ending and trying to suggest that what was obviously portrayed on the screen isn't what the show is really trying to say, is a kid really going to get it?

Which is why you see so many people saying shit like "aw Gabriel was really a good man," or "he was never the villain." These people are probably like, 12–13 year olds, and they are watching a show meant for kids. And as a kid, I'm not going to like that Adrien wasn't in the finale, sure, but does that mean I'll understand that Gabriel is supposed to still be a bad guy when the show tells me to my face that he isn't?

It's not like the show can't deal with complex and nuanced characters. I myself have written many character analyses and have treated these characters as complex and nuanced, and they could have been. Again, look at ATLA. Zuko, for example, is a very complex character, but he is still brought to life in a way that allows kids to understand all the nuances and subtleties in his story clearly. There is a lot of rather complex symbolism, but the kids get the jist of it and can understand his story well, even if they don't catch all the minute details. Hell, take Azula. The show doesn't shy away from showing her doing bad things, but it also makes it blatantly obvious that you should feel sorry for her in the end, and that she's also a victim. Again, kids can understand this.

And that's where Miraculous falls flat. The writers fucked up their message. They wrote some deeply problematic stuff, where the abuser won. The bad guy won, but he was actually a good guy. So, people who act like Gabriel maybe aren't all that bad. What Gabriel did in the end was good, and we should all try to be like him. Kids aren't going to question it. In this way, "it's a kids show" goes from being an excuse to being a problem. It's what it says on the tin, and what's on the tin is not good. That's how I feel.

Thank you for your ask!

#MLB #Miraculous Ladybug #S5 Finale #Meta #My meta #ML Salt #ML Writing Salt #ML Writers Salt #Asks

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originalfatfiction · 24 days

Text

Mason's Gain

Mason Megalos had been my best friend for over a decade when everything fell apart. I still hadn’t gotten over how suddenly we went our separate ways. Like many sexually confused adolescents, I had fallen in love with my best friend. We were both boys, and I had come to realize my love for him was one of the worst things that could have ever happened. I heard how other guys talked. I knew that liking Mason wasn’t something I could act on.

We’d been about a month into our freshman year when I felt him slipping away from me. He had joined the football team and started hanging out with a bunch of his misogynistic, homophobic, and slightly racist teammates. Most people would say these guys were harmless, but I knew that the longer Mason hung around them, the more influence they’d have over his ideologies. He was being brainwashed! I had to win him back over from the dark side.

Mason wasn’t a hateful person, and I was determined to come out to him before it was too late. I trusted him more than anybody in the whole world; I genuinely believed with every fiber of my being that we’d be able to work through my teeny-tiny crush on him (okay, so maybe it wasn’t the teeniest or the tiniest, and I was a hundred percent head-over-heels in love with him, but I digress). I figured he’d reject me amiably and we could continue our friendship, but unforeseen circumstances had prohibited my confession indefinitely.

We’d been at my house. I had been avoiding coming out to him, as there was always something stopping me. The reasons were always stupid, like the fact there was an X-Men movie marathon coming on TV and we just had to watch it together. Like many high school aged boys, Mason sometimes referred to stuff as gay, in reference to things he considered stupid or slightly feminine. It had gotten way worse since he’d been hanging around his new friends. At one point he said it about some commercial on the TV. I felt that anxious feeling I often got, but this time I didn’t let it stop me.

“Mason, I’m gay,” I’d told him. I blurted it out, really. It wasn’t my finest moment; it wasn’t what I’d practiced a million times in the bathroom mirror.

He looked at me for a while, assessing me, and then he got up and left. With no words of encouragement or disapproval.

October 11, 2008 would forever be ingrained in my mind as the day Mason walked out of my life and never looked back. I’d really thought he was different. I’d really thought that I could tell him about my authentic self. I had never even got to mention the fact that I had a crush on him, which was probably for the best.

He hadn’t been the person I thought he was.

If losing Mason as a friend wasn’t bad enough, I was now still dealing with the repercussions of coming out. It had been three years since then.

Yes, three years of Mason’s new friend group taking every possible opportunity to terrorize me for being gay. They’d beat me up from time to time, throw slurs at me, or make homophobic jokes knowing there was nothing I could do or say to stop them. I didn’t want to make excuses for Mason, because the fact he had been such a terrible friend was inexcusable, but he never directly harassed me like his underlings; he just sort of had dominion over them, which was slightly less awful. Seriously, I think it was worth something that he never beat me up or said anything mean to me (at least not to my face). It was easier to handle his passive attitude in regard to my situation.

Those dumb jocks and future gas station attendants all looked to Mason for approval. He’d become their God—the coolest, the most handsome, the almighty. I bet if he stood up for me at least once, my days at school would go a lot smoother. I hated myself for it, but I just couldn’t let go of my idealized version of him. I told myself he didn’t mean what he did or said. I told myself that there was still good in him. Even though it killed me to hear him laugh when his friends called me a fag or a homo, I believed Mason didn’t really think I was disgusting.

I still thought he was attractive. It wasn’t like I was blind. We might not have been best friends anymore, but I lusted after him just the same as I had before. Mason had an olive complexion and it always seemed like he was glowing, like he was an angel or something. Mason’s parents were Greek, having moved to America before he was born. He had this curly brown hair that he took excellent care of now that he was older (when we were younger it was always messy). His eyes were green. His lips were full. He had the most beautiful smile. It was almost the most attractive thing about him.

The most attractive thing about Mason was his butt. He had the best ass I’d ever seen. It’s what I always looked at when I could take a clandestine glance. I had looked at his butt so frequently, I could probably pick it out of a police lineup.

“Yes Officer,” I’d say. “Butt number three is Mason’s. The sheer size of the cheeks makes it obvious, and the dimples on his lower back are also a dead giveaway.”

He was taller than me, and he definitely had to be over six feet by now. I was 5’9” and weighed only about 160 pounds. Mason on the other hand had really buffed up in our years distanced from one another; I would have to guess he was around 200 pounds. He’d been a pudgy kid, but when he joined the football team freshman year, they worked all of his extra weight into muscle. Seeing him change so much really stung, not having gotten the chance to change along with him.

I had to continuously remind myself that none of these things mattered anymore. He could be extraordinarily hot with the best ass in the entire country, but that didn’t change the fact that he hated me for something I couldn’t control. He abandoned a valuable friendship and allowed others to belittle me. My mom had told me growing up, in a somewhat blunt way I’d grown used to, “Not everybody is your friend. Sometimes people can surprise you in the worst ways possible.” I never, and I mean never, thought my mother’s pessimistic wisdom would apply to my relationship with Mason.

We were about two months into senior year, and today in English IV, the last class of the day, I noticed Mason talking to a troll named Bret Phelps. This guy was possibly the worst of the group. The others just called me names, having grown tired of wasting energy beating me up, but he felt compelled to hunt me down and physically assault me every other day. I made my way to my locker as quickly as I could and made a mad dash for my bike.

Today I was going to make it.

I was trying to be positive, which wasn’t always easy. It was a quality I admired in others, so I tried my best to emulate that positivity. I was determined to hold my head up high and to be optimistic. I knew things would one day get better, even if I had to put up with Mason’s posse until graduation.

Today I wasn’t going to get punched anywhere on my body.

I approached the bike rack quickly, wanting to make it off campus unscathed. The closer I got to where the bikes were housed, the more noticeable was the form of a guy leaning casually on an adjoining pillar.

It was Bret. Damn.

He had to have forgone stopping at his locker. He’d come directly here after the bell rang to wait for me. He must have really been in a sour mood if he wanted to catch me so badly.

I had to be strong. Even if I wanted to whine and cry and beg for him to leave me alone, I couldn’t. I refused to give him or any of his asshole friends the satisfaction of breaking me down. I was immune to this. I just had to accept my beating and he’d move on. At first, I fought hard every single time, but he’d still pummel me. That was when I came to realize that if I didn’t show emotion, he’d give me a swift punch in the gut and go about his day. I wasn’t going to give the sadist the pleasure he oh so desired. It wasn’t fun fighting someone who didn’t react.

“Hello Oliver,” he said, smiling. His front tooth was slightly chipped, and I hoped it was from someone punching him in the mouth. “You were like the first one out of class. I hope you didn’t think you were going to miss me today.” He was shorter than Mason but taller than I was. He was a stocky guy, and if I didn’t hate him so much, I’d be willing to admit that he was almost-maybe-possibly attractive.

“Hey Bret,” I said in an even tone, keeping my head down, not making eye contact. “I really have to get going.”

“This isn’t going to take long.”

He walked towards me. I closed my eyes and tensed my ab muscles waiting for him to sock me in the stomach.

“I’ll handle him today.”

It was Mason’s voice. I opened my eyes slowly, letting out a deep breath and relaxing my abs. Was he going to start beating me up too? I didn’t think I could handle it if he decided he was so disgusted by me that he had to resort to physical violence.

“Yeah, okay Mason,” Bret said, reverting to his beta-male status. “You’ve got to make sure you get him in the gut, just like he likes it.” With that, Bret walked off, glad to be told what to do—but not before punching me in the arm as hard as he could.

“Thanks,” I said, rubbing my arm as I made my way over to my bike. I kneeled down and began putting in the combo for my bike lock.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, like he’d done me the biggest favor.

I looked up at him from the ground, and he looked like a giant. I felt really nostalgic looking up at him. Mason used to fight people for saying that I was gay. He used to defend my honor like I was a high society lady in a Victorian romance novel. But that didn’t matter anymore. He was a regular human being who made stupid human being decisions. I had to stop romanticizing the present with memories of the past.

I stayed silent. I didn’t know how to talk to him anymore. Why was he still standing there? I wanted him to leave so I wouldn’t have to feel so on edge.

“You want a ride home?” he asked.

Was he being for real? He only ever talked to me in class, and that was if it was mandated by the teacher. Now he was offering me a ride home? I wanted to say something biting and sarcastic, but nothing good would come from it. That wasn’t who I was or who I wanted to be. I did my best to push through the bitter feelings.

“No,” I said, my voice flatter than I meant it to be. I didn’t want to sound upset or anything, but I was struggling to temper out my emotions. “I have my bike.”

This was the first time in a long time I was alone with him. It made me think of that day in October three years ago when everything changed. I hated how this was forcing me to recollect our final moments together as best friends.

“We can put it in the back,” he said matter-of-factly. I knew he was talking about his Jeep, but I still pictured his ass.

I was silent again, and he just smiled at me, like he knew I was going to accept his offer. This was how things had been in elementary school, middle school. He’d always been able to charm me into doing whatever he wanted. Even now as he began to saunter off, expecting me to follow, I couldn’t stop myself from bending to his will.

“Let’s go,” he said, jerking his head slightly in the direction of the student parking lot.

“Yeah okay, sure,” I mumbled, internally berating myself for being so easily swayed by him.

I followed him over to his Jeep. It was an older model, some of the burgundy paint peeling off. The inside smelled like he did; I took multiple deep breaths. He still remembered how to get to my house. The trip was for the most part silent, which gave me time to run scenarios, and they all ended badly, with some terrible prank that would awaken my latent telekinetic powers akin to my homegirl Carrie White.

“Casa de Bailey.”

I felt myself jump slightly, having been lost in my Stephen King fantasies.

“Thanks,” I said, hopping out of the passenger’s side.

I put my bag on and walked towards the rear of the Jeep. I didn’t think he’d get out of the car, but he met me at the back and removed my bike for me. As he set it down on the pavement, I took in how strong his arms looked and how the sleeves of his t-shirt were being eaten by their size. He had biceps. He had triceps. If there were any other muscles in the upper arm, he had those too.

“Can I ask you something?” What could he want to ask me? He’d probably request that I transfer schools so he wouldn’t have to look at his loser ex-best friend anymore.

“Sure,” I said, my voice cracking slightly, not knowing where this was going and not really wanting to find out. “You can come inside.” I started around back to put away my bike; he followed. I put my bike in the garage and unlocked the back door. I walked up the three steps into the kitchen and offered him something to drink.

“Milk, if you have it.” I poured him a large glass and he began to gulp it down. He was so white, drinking milk like it was actually good. I used to give him such a hard time about it. “Thanks,” he said, wiping away a milk mustache with his forearm.

“So, what did you want to ask me?” I was curious, seeing as we hadn’t really spoken in years.

“Oh yeah,” he said. I took in his thick eyebrows, which were furrowed in seriousness. I wanted to stroke his brows with my fingers, to feel his face in my hands. I bet his skin was soft. He frowned and it made me a little worried.

“What?” I asked. “You’re okay, aren’t you?” I still cared about him and his well-being. Maybe it was idiotic of me to still be so devoted to a person that ignored my sufferings, and maybe I should have ignored Mason in return, but my gut instinct was to be concerned.

“Here’s the thing,” he started, “I’m kind of failing English and I was wondering if you could help me out. Bret and the other guys are barely passing, and you’re so smart, I figured you’d be the best person to tutor me.” He paused for a moment, glancing at me. “I don’t want anyone to know.”

“That I’m helping you or that you’re failing English?” I asked, to clarify.

“Both,” he blurted out quickly.

We stood in an awkward silence. I felt my face go hot and was slightly embarrassed. He didn’t want people to know he was even interacting with me. It was kind of degrading, and I needed to have some self-worth and tell him that I had more value than that. That was what I should’ve done, but I was weak, and he was hot.

“Okay,” I said like a dope. I smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ll help you out.”

“Thanks dude,” he said, a sound of relief in his voice. “You good to meet here after school?”

“Yeah, like what, Tuesdays and Thursdays?”

“Nah, every day. At least until I get my grade up. My parents lost their shit when they got my progress report.” Every day? That was going to take up a lot of time, and I may not have had much else to do, but I couldn’t believe he just imposed his own tutoring schedule on me.

“Yeah,” I said, even more like a dope. “No problem.”

“Well, I have to go,” he said suddenly. I turned to get the milk, ready to offer him another glass of moo juice, but he was gone out of the back door before I could get the words out.

“See you later,” I said aloud to myself, putting the milk back in the fridge.

If I put my self-respect and righteous anger aside, this was fantastic. I’d get to talk to Mason every day. I’d get to look at his gorgeous face and body every day. I’d get to imagine, even though it was ridiculous, that we were still best friends. He had come to me for help. That just proved that there was still a connection between us. Maybe, in his own odd way, Mason was trying to rekindle our friendship.

I had noticed in the previous weeks that he looked bigger than usual. I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me, but being able to look at him without having to avert my eyes confirmed it.

He was growing.

I’d heard he quit the football team. Everyone had heard he’d quit the team. It was the hottest gossip for the entire first month of school. I knew he still exercised, having heard him mention to Bret he worked out with his uncle every night, trying to get into powerlifting. I didn’t know what that entailed, but it sure sounded like something I wanted to see. I was getting an erection just thinking about Mason possibly getting a bit of a belly to go along with the sheer size he was already putting on.

I realized I’d been keeping tabs on him without really meaning to. If his name was brought up, I listened. I was still invested in his life, and this new arrangement was going to potentially put me in a dangerous situation.

The fact he’d be coming over again tomorrow got me feeling nervous. I didn’t want things to feel awkward. I wanted to do something nice for him to show I wasn’t holding a grudge or anything (even if I was still a little pissed at him). All hadn’t been forgiven, but maybe this was the start to an important conversation.

I decided to go shopping for some snacks. He’d always been a big eater, and he’d probably need some brain food if we were to be studying. He liked potato chips and submarine sandwiches.

(“You gotta really pack on the ingredients,” he’d told me when we were younger. “I’m talking about a ridiculous amount of meat and cheese. Oil, mayo, mustard, pickles, lettuce, tomatoes.”

I stared in astonishment at the monstrous sandwich he had constructed. It looked big enough to feed three people. This was a sandwich Scooby and Shaggy would excitedly devour.

“You really think you can eat all of that?” I asked.

“You don’t think I can Oli?” he asked, smirking.

“I think you can. You can do anything!”

“That’s right,” he said. “You wanna watch demolish this thing?”

“Yeah,” I said, feeling oddly attracted to him in that moment. It was a moment that definitely raised a red flag for me. Why had I been so invested in his display of gluttony?

He finished that entire sub and a bag of family sized chips. His dad came home after a long day of work looking for the ingredients to make himself a sandwich. “Where’s the deli meat?” Mr. Megalos asked in his Greek accent.

“I ate it all, Dad,” Mason replied, not even embarrassed. Mr. Megalos playfully smacked Mason on the back of the head before sending us to the store to buy some more turkey breast. Mason used the change to buy us a package of oatmeal cream pies. Before I even got the chance to have a second one, he’d eaten the rest of them on our walk home.

I was glad that he did.)

The next day at school I really wanted to talk to Mason, but I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. I waited the day out and went to get my bike. Mason, not Bret, was leaning on the pillar near the bike rack.

“Hello,” I said, a little bit uneasy. He probably didn’t want my help anymore. He probably realized he could find someone else to tutor him.

“What’s up, Oli?” he asked, smiling like everything was normal between us. Nobody called me Oli anymore. Just hearing him say my name with a smile on his face was enough to give me the vapors. I felt like flinging myself into his muscled arms, swooning.

“Nothing much.” I smiled back at him nervously. “I’m still meeting you at my house, right?”

“Yeah, definitely.” He looked at me seriously. My heart must have skipped a beat. “I told Bret to back off. If he fucks with you again, just let me know. Got it?”

“Ye—yeah,” I stammered. “Thanks a lot.” He was so hot when he was serious. He furrowed his brow in a way that made him look slightly angry. I bet he’d make a similar face while having sex.

“See you soon,” he said, swaggering off towards where his car was parked. I took in his wide back and beefy behind. He didn’t even carry a bookbag; he just had a folder, a couple of notebooks, and the novel we were reading in class. This was probably why he was failing.

I unlocked my bike, mounted it, and rode off towards home. Relief swept over me at the thought of being Bret-free. I continued to pedal and felt myself come alive. I loved riding my bike; I was pretty fit because of it, with muscular thighs and a firm, round ass. My ass was definitely a first runner up to Mason’s glorious cakes. It was nearing the end of October and when it started to snow, I would have to swap my tires for better traction. I thought about Mason on the ride home and what I wanted to do to him. I hated wanting him so badly, but I loved it at the same time. Crushes were so weird that way. It was starting to consume me, yet I didn’t really mind it.

He was sitting on the front steps when I got there.

“Oli,” he said, standing to meet me at the path to the backyard. He had his hand in his shirt, scratching his tummy. He moved his hand away. “Why don’t you have a car?” His voice was getting to me. I missed hearing his voice more than I realized.

“I can’t afford a nice Jeep like you,” I said a little sarcastically. He laughed, catching my slight insult to the Jeep that had once belonged to Mr. Megalos. It was given to Mason for his birthday last year. I remembered Mr. Megalos driving us to elementary school in that thing, so to see Mason driving it now was kind of funny. “You know it’s just me and my mom.”

“You could get a job,” he suggested. “There are lots of cheap cars. I’d help you look for one.” Mason had always liked cars and that sort of thing. His dad and Uncle Galvin owned an auto shop that Mason helped out in. Galvin was the same uncle he’d been working out with.

“I live like eight blocks from the school and I never go anywhere,” I said, feeling more at ease the longer we were around one another. “But if I ever do start looking for a car, I’d hope the offer would still stand.”

“Of course,” he said. “Consider it payment for your services.” I had put my bike away during our conversation. I opened the back door, and we went inside.

“You can go up to my room,” I said. He knew the way.

I walked over to the fridge and looked at the array of supplies I’d picked up yesterday. I’d gone overboard for sure, but I removed the ingredients and placed them on the counter. I bought provolone cheese, turkey breast, and honey roasted ham. I’d even gone so far as to buy hoagie rolls and herb-seasoned submarine oil. I stuffed those hoagie rolls full of meat and cheese and veggies, just like I knew he liked his sandwiches—at least I knew he liked them this way years ago. I cut them in half and placed them on a plate, pouring some original flavored Ruffles in a bowl. I also put half a sleeve of Oreos on a separate plate and poured two glasses of milk.

I carried the tray carefully as I made my way up the stairs to my room. Entering, I saw he was sitting at my desk, holding a photo of us at the beach when we were in the seventh grade. I walked over to him and set the tray down next to him on my desk.

“You still have this?” he asked, smiling. I looked over at the picture in his hand. His arm was around my shoulder and we both smiled wide at the camera. He had always been taller than I was, and this was before he lost his baby fat.

“Yeah,” I said shakily. I felt lame all of a sudden, still holding on to something he probably considered a piece of junk. “Could you please put it down?”

The frame was even more special than the photograph; Mason had made it for me, painting the phrase “Best Buds” in big, sloppy letters on the bottom, seashells and starfish glued all around the rest of the frame. He had burned his fingers so badly using the hot glue gun he wore bandages for a week. I remember how proud he was of his craftsmanship.

“Sorry,” he said, laughing. He carefully put the picture frame back in its place before picking up a cookie, popping the whole thing in his mouth. “I didn’t mean to make you all tense.”

“I’m not tense,” I said, sounding incredibly tense. He chewed, smirking slightly. I needed to get a grip. I was going to ruin everything if I didn’t chill out. I took a deep breath. “I thought a small snack would help you focus better.”

“This is a small snack?” he asked.

“I just—I remembered you had a big appetite.”

“You remembered right,” he said, reaching for one of the sandwich halves and taking a colossal bite. I felt even more embarrassed. Did he remember anything about me? Did he ever think about me at all?

“Yeah.” I sighed.

“You know Oli,” he started, his mouth half full. “I never stopped eating big, but I’ve definitely kicked it into overdrive since quitting football. If I don’t slow down, I’m gonna get fat again like in that photo.” His free hand absent-mindedly rubbed his stomach. It was like he was toying with me. He took another large bite of the sandwich. “I already eat like garbage, but I started a bulking cycle recently, really pushing myself to put on some mass. I think I’ve already put on ten pounds.” Ten pounds was kind of a lot, seeing as he had quit the football team only a little over a month ago.

“You—you carry the weight well,” I said, aroused. “You don’t look fat to me.” He had finished his first half and grabbed another.

“Are you kidding?” he asked, grabbing his slightly protruding paunch and shaking the small bit of belly he was sporting. “I eat way too much Oli.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that,” I said, trying not to discourage a habit I wanted him to continue.

“Get this, I ordered two large pizzas from Domino’s the other weekend and finished both of them. It was one of those deals where you save a ton of money if you get the two larges. I’m a sucker for deals like that.”

“Who isn’t?” I asked, watching him alternate between bites of the sandwich and the potato chips.

“When I got to the last slice, I was pissed. I wasn’t even full.”

“Wow Mason,” I said, trying not to sound too enthusiastic. “When you put it like that, it does sound like a lot.”

“I was lucky my mom had made two trays of pastitsio the night before.” He lifted his shirt and showed me his belly, feeling the need to prove to me that he was indeed packing on the pounds. He was kind of hairy, and I liked it. He grabbed at his tummy with his strong hands, shaking it again, uncovered. I just wanted to feel his stomach in my own hands. I needed to know what it felt like. “This gut is brought to you by pastitsio, pizza, and protein shakes.”

He left his shirt up as he reached for another portion of the sandwich. I watched from my bed with my legs closed tight, as he bit, chewed, and swallowed, repeating the process until he moved on to the next serving. His large hands made those hefty sandwiches look like dainty finger food at a garden party. He pulled at his t-shirt, covering himself.

“You don’t wanna see that,” he said, laughing, his cheeks reddening slightly. He grabbed a handful of the salty chips and shoved them into his mouth. I imagined his hands grabbing a handful of my ass.

I didn’t know how I was going to be able to get through these tutoring sessions. He was pornographic. I was rock hard, my dick straining against my jeans. I was hoping I’d soften up enough before I had to stand. He kept going and going until he was chugging the glasses of milk. Only a couple of cookies remained on the plate.

“How—uh, how much do you weigh?” I asked.

“I don’t really know. You got a scale?”

“Yeah, it’s in the bathroom,” I said, affirming that I had one.

“Let’s do this,” he said, standing. I wiggled a little before getting up, making sure to minimize the obviousness of the boner in my pants. When I was out of sight, I took the time to tuck my penis into the waistband of my underwear, so it was angled upwards, and the front of my pants was flat. I brought the scale from my bathroom, praying he hadn’t noticed I was still semi-erect.

“How much did you weigh?” I asked.

“207 pounds at the pre-season weigh-in back in August,” he said, walking towards where I placed the scale in the middle of my bedroom. I sat on my knees near where the number would be displayed. He stepped on the scale and I glanced at the reading. “What’s the damage?” he asked, standing perfectly still.

“Well, um—that’s something.”

“How much?”

“Maybe this thing is busted, but it says you weigh 226 pounds.” My dick throbbed as I said it. What was so hot about Mason putting on weight like this? It wasn’t just muscle that turned me on, but also fat. I hoped his bulking cycle never ended.

“Shit,” he said, his tone surprised yet slightly satisfied. “I’m gonna be huge if I don’t start slowing down with all this eating.” I swallowed, hard.

I couldn’t help him study today. I’d get better at putting up with his natural eroticism, but today couldn’t be helped. He needed to leave before I came in my pants. I could feel pre-cum starting to coat the lower half of my stomach.

“I’m not feeling good all of a sudden,” I said. Mason stepped off of the scale. I couldn’t think straight, and I was for sure too turned on to focus.

“Really, why?” he asked.

“Like I just got a headache out of nowhere.” I was going to cum any second. It’d take me five strokes tops with how I was feeling, but I knew I’d want to go again immediately.

“Oh shit,” he said, picking up his stack of materials. “You gonna be okay?”

“I probably just need to take some Tylenol and get a nap in before it gets too late.”

“Okay.” He grabbed the rest of the Oreos. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Did I mind? Of course I didn’t mind. I was apparently some sort of freak who wanted him eating constantly. “No, go ahead,” I said. He smiled at me appreciatively before popping one of the cookies in his mouth. I walked him to the door, and we said our goodbyes.

I ran back upstairs and got undressed. I stepped onto the scale, which was still in the middle of my bedroom floor. I weighed myself: 159 pounds.

Mason was 67 pounds bigger than I was. I ran my hand over the shaft of my penis. I gave it one pump, two pumps. Fuck, I was picturing his gut in his hands. Three pumps, Four pumps. He had eaten everything on that tray. I pictured Mason getting bigger and beefier. That’s what did it; I came in thick spurts all over myself.

Tomorrow was going to be tough.

It didn’t get any easier controlling my sexual compulsions when Mason came by for tutoring. It had been two weeks since he first asked for my assistance, and I helped him with his papers and worksheets. We also spent time reading. He was so damn cute. He’d whisper things to himself about what was happening in whatever he was annotating. I had heard him say “no way” or “what” at least once per chapter.

I thought this stuff was all really easy, and I was shocked at how he let his grade fall so low in less than two months of school. He must not have done any type of work for this class until now. I considered the fact that he had a social life and lots of friends to distract him from school. I, on the other hand, spent my free time making flashcards and watching reruns of Chopped and Good Eats. Mason had always been the largest component of my social life, so when he went away, so did any potential high school social plans.

Each study visit I always had a tray with different types of snacks. I kept in mind that Mason was a big eater, and the portions remained hearty and plentiful. It was a Friday study session with an essay due on Monday.

“I’m just going to have to come back tomorrow, maybe even Sunday.” He laughed. “I’m totally hopeless.”

“Don’t say that,” I said, being stereotypically positive. “I think you’re doing great. Did you ask Mr. Gonzalez what your grade was?” He asked every Friday.

“D-plus,” he said with his typical furrowed brow. He sighed and began tossing books into his bag (which I told him he needed to start carrying). I stood silent for a moment, contemplating what I should say. “If he wasn’t such a dick and took late work, I wouldn’t have to stress so hard over this.” I wanted to make him feel like the work he was doing was valuable. I saw that he was improving; I just wished he could see it too.

“You’ve got to think about it like you’re lifting weights, you know? You could barely lift anything at the start, but with hard work and dedication you can lift things you never thought possible. You had a thirty percent two weeks ago, and you’re telling me you’ve been able to get that up over a sixty-five? Just imagine where you’ll be in just one more week, a month from now, even. You’ll have the buffest, strongest grade ever.”

“You think so?” he mused. He sat silently for a moment as he pondered what I had just said. He smiled. “I guess you’re right. Thanks Oliver.”

He lifted his hulking frame out of my desk chair and strode over to where I stood. He wrapped me in his beefy arms and gave me a bear hug. I could feel my entire body tingle in pleasure as I felt Mason for the first time in forever. I didn’t dare ruin it by trying to hug him back. My hands at my side, I could feel his warmth, I could smell the chips he ate and the aftershave he wore. They mixed together in a scent that was uniquely Mason. His arms were so solid, as was his slight gut. It was so brief, but it made me the happiest guy in the world. “You have always been the smartest person I know.”

“Thanks—thanks a lot.” He let me go and grabbed his bag. “Do you think you might want something more substantial to eat tomorrow or just a snack? I could definitely make you a meal if you wanted.”

I was doing way too much. The snacks were one thing, completely hospitable, but now I was offering to make him dinner? Did Bret do things like this for him? His other football friends? I was not being very hetero.

“Really?” he asked, shockingly excited. “Do you remember in sixth grade when you wanted to be a chef?” I spent that entire year working through a kid-friendly cookbook. I even started going off-script, coming up with some of my own recipes (though they were just derivative of other things I’d learned from the cookbook). I doubted Mason knew he was the reason I wanted to learn how to cook.

“Yeah,” I said. “I cooked a different recipe every day for like nine months. You ate dinner at our house every other day before eating the dinner your mom made.” He laughed at the memory.

“I gained like twenty pounds during that,” he started, “but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it. You’re the reason I was able to grow up big and strong.” He rubbed his gut absent-mindedly. He was always doing that, and it drove me damn near insane.

“Stop playing,” I said, laughing.

“I’m serious!” he said. We began walking down the stairs towards the front door. We continued planning for the following evening of studying. “I want that chicken and cheese thing you made. Now that was delicious.”

“I could do that.”

“How’s seven for you?” he asked. “I’ve got to help my dad in the shop for a bit and then I’m gonna go lift with Uncle Galvin.”

“That works for me,” I said. “Sounds like you’ll be hungry.”

“Hell yeah,” he replied enthusiastically. “Night Oli.”

“Goodnight Mason,” I said, closing the door behind him.

What was my life? Just like every night after he left, I had to take some time to masturbate. When I finished, I saw it was almost ten. My mom would be back soon. I’d watch whatever was on the Food Network and think about seeing Mason again until she got home.

As happy as I was, I couldn’t help serving myself a much-needed reality check. I wanted to believe that things were going great. We were spending lots of time together and vibing really well. He actually remembered the Oli Cheesy Chicken Special. But we still didn’t speak to one another at school. It was like our relationship existed solely in my bedroom. How well could things be going for me if I was just the gay nerd who overfed him and made sure he didn’t fail English?

I woke up around six the next morning. I was definitely an early bird, getting that worm and whatnot. I took a quick shower and styled my hair. It was thick and black. I used a coconut oil cream to make it curl. It was kind of short, only about three or four inches long, but I thought it looked pretty decent. I had brown eyes and brown skin. My complexion was the color of a caramel hard candy. Both of my parents were black. My dad’s parents were from the South. My mom’s mother was from Jamaica and her dad was from Philadelphia.

I grabbed the basket for my bike and sent my mom a text. She wouldn’t be up until around eleven, and even after that she’d be out of the house running errands before work. I was going to the store for the ingredients in my dish.

It wasn’t that long of a bike ride to the grocery store, and I’d been making the trip more frequently since I decided Mason needed to be catered to with each visit. I shopped for a while, budgeting things out, and choosing other side dishes. I got everything on my list and remembered I wanted to pick up some ice cream for after dinner. I was going to get a pint of Vanilla Fudge Banana Explosion. It used to be Mason’s favorite flavor, and I was willing to bet he still loved it.

I turned back and made my way to the frozen food section. It was near where they kept the eggs and milk and cheese. I noticed Bret with some serious bed head grabbing a gallon of 2%. I snatched the ice cream from the freezer and ran for the checkout, praying he hadn’t seen me. I wanted to hurry the cashier along, but she was a kind older woman who had always been nice to me.

“You sure do grocery shop a lot,” she said, laughing. “You’re such a little thing, but you eat so much. But that’s how young men are. Nothing wrong with a healthy appetite.”

I conversed with her, trying my best not to appear rude, but I really didn’t need to encounter Bret on the weekend. I paid for my stuff and left the store. I went and unlocked my bike, setting it upright so I could put the groceries in the basket.

Before I could take off, I felt someone grab the hood of my hoodie. I fell backwards, my bike falling to the ground. The food rolled out onto the sidewalk.

I looked up from the pavement at Bret smirking down at me. He had on a pair of flannel pajama pants and a Jackson High football sweatshirt. I normally would have just taken whatever beating he had for me, but I was fed up. Today was supposed to be a good day. I was going to make Mason his food and he’d compliment me, and I could live in my delusions for just a little while longer.

I got to my knees before standing straight up. I pushed him as hard as I could, and he stumbled back slightly. “Leave me the fuck alone!” I shouted, kind of embarrassed by how high my voice got.

“Oh, it’s on, you fag,” Bret spat at me. He set the jug of milk he’d been carrying on the sidewalk. “I’m sick of looking at you and your pink fag bike.”

“My bike is red,” I shouted. I didn’t say anything else, and I had no idea what I should do next. We looked at one another intensely.

“Red,” he said as he drew me closer to his body, yanking on my hoodie. “Or pink,” he continued. Punch in the stomach. “You’re still a fucking homo.” Punch. Punch in the mouth. Punch. Punch in the nose. Punch in the cheekbone. Punch. Another punch in the gut. I was panting as he threw me to the ground. I thought I was going to barf.

“Fuck—you—,” I managed to get out, catching my breath. I had gotten used to my one punch in the stomach a day. This was taking me back to sophomore year when our altercations left me with a new bruise every day. He didn’t seem phased by what I said, just continuing to smirk at me.

“I sure am glad I drank the last of the milk now.” He laughed, stooping to grab his milk, and walked over to his Dodge Charger.

I gathered the scattered items and checked to make sure they were all okay. They were. I put everything back in the basket. I took a few deep breaths before mounting my bike. I rode home and took another shower.

I didn’t want to dwell on the experiences of the morning. I put on some music and spent the rest of the time before I had to start cooking doing laundry and other chores around the house. One beating didn’t mean the world had to stop moving. This was nothing new.

I started cooking around five-thirty, so it would be ready when Mason got here. About five minutes after seven the doorbell rang.

“Hey Mason,” I said, happy to see him. I smiled a little too wide and felt my lip begin to bleed again. It was only a little. I licked the blood away.

“What the fuck Oli?”

“What?” I asked. “What’s wrong?” I got beat up all the time. This really was not a big deal. After high school I would never have to deal with this sort of thing ever again.

“You look like shit,” he said angrily. “That’s what’s wrong.”

“You’ve seen me like this before. It’s no big deal.”

“It is to me,” he said, eyebrows furious. “Who was it? Who did this? I swear to God if you say Bret after I told him not to touch you anymore.”

“It’s fine, really.” I didn’t want to make this into a whole thing. I had spent the entire day trying to forget about it so that we could have a good time eating and studying together. I wanted him to just leave it alone. I wanted him to stop pretending like he actually cared about what happened. I’d been getting my ass kicked for over three years and he’d never so much as batted an eye.

“Oliver,” he pushed.

“The food is going to get cold, so let’s just go and eat.” I walked away from the front door towards the kitchen, hoping he’d follow. That was when he grabbed my arm. He pulled me close to him. We stood there for a moment. His strong, masculine hands held my upper arms firmly. He looked at my bruised cheek, my busted lip. He brought his mouth to my forehead and kissed it softly. It felt like we were standing there for hours but it couldn’t have been longer than thirty seconds. “Mason—.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said.

He let go of my arms and hesitated a moment before running out to his Jeep and driving off. Had he really just kissed me? I couldn’t believe it. I was pretty sure there was lip to forehead action.

After that Mason never called or texted me, and he didn’t show up to school on Monday. I managed to avoid Bret after school and decided to take Mason his homework. He really hadn’t missed all that much, but I really wanted to see what that kiss was about. I also wondered if he worked on the essay for English class at all. I hadn’t been busting my ass for him to start failing again. It was a longer bike ride, but I made it to his place in about twenty minutes. I rang the doorbell and Mason’s kid sister Agatha answered the door.

“Oliver! Oliver! Oh my God!” she exclaimed, jumping up and down before reaching out for a hug.

“Hey Aggy,” I replied, embracing her. She was thirteen now. I was eighteen, my birthday at the end of September, but Mason was nineteen. His birthday was in July. It was a secret I swore to take to the grave. It was the reason why he never invited classmates to his birthday parties growing up. When he told me about why, it was like something out of a Roald Dahl novel. It was like he was Matilda or something. Mr. and Mrs. Megalos had been remarkably busy helping members of their family immigrate, starting their auto repair business, and welcoming Aggy into the world. They straight up forgot to register him for school. They waited so long that the district said he’d have to wait for the following school year. Mason never told anyone how old he was. He didn’t want people to think he failed a grade. He also didn’t want people to think he had bad parents.

“I missed you so much,” she said. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“It’s good to see you too,” I said with a laugh. “We’ll have to catch up soon, but is Mason home?”

“He’s sick,” she said with a pair of air quotes. “I know he’s lying. Sick people don’t eat as much as he does. You can go upstairs.”

“Thanks.”

I made my way upstairs, shocked by how little had changed in their house in three years. I stood outside Mason’s door, nervous about having to discuss what happened on Saturday. What if he didn’t want to talk about it? What if he wanted to pretend it never happened at all? It was now or never. I opened the door to his room. I’d been so wrapped up in my thoughts I’d forgotten to knock. I shouldn’t have been so careless.

“Ah!” Mason yelped, looking over at me in his doorway.

He was naked, but that wasn’t the most outrageous part. There were a ton of reasons why he could be naked and alone in his room. This was his house after all. But he knelt at the side of his bed, dick in hand and a sex toy in his ass. It was definitely the hottest thing I’d ever seen in person, but still a major shock. His ass was just made to take phallic objects. There was so much of him to take in, from the powerful arms to the beefy ass to the bloated gut. I was frozen, staring at his dick and then the sex toy he’d removed from his asshole. He tossed it in a shoe box and shoved it under his bed.

“Oliver, close the door!” he said hurriedly. I turned around and closed the door quickly. He probably wanted me on the other side of it. “I can’t believe I didn’t lock the door,” he mumbled. “Fuck.”

“Mason, look, I’m really, uh—really sorry,” I said, turning back around and staring at him as he pulled on a pair of basketball shorts.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. All I could think about was how big his butt was. He probably did a ton of squats. His legs were hairy, as were his forearms and chest. I could tell his sessions in the gym were paying off, seeing as everything about him was getting absolutely massive. But man, his gut had really grown. He was getting fat. Fatter than when he showed me his belly the first time. He must have been eating constantly. The after-school snacks I prepared for him couldn’t have been pumping him up this much. I knew he said he was bulking, but did he mean to be getting so large?

“I brought your homework,” I said. My voice was shaking. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I should probably go.” What was going on? He was into butt stuff? Was he gay? I’d heard that some straight guys were into anal. They’d have their wives and girlfriends peg them with strap-ons. I couldn’t process this right now with him in front of me. I turned to leave.

“Wait,” he called. “Can I have the work?” How was he so calm? I took off my bag and pulled out the folder where I’d put all the materials he’d need. I stood there, folder in hand, unable to walk towards him. He walked over to me, his dick still semi-erect bobbing freely in the basketball shorts. His thighs were like tree trunks. His chest was broad, and his nipples were slightly bigger than I’d seen on other guys, kind of puffy. Overall, he was looking much fleshier. I needed to focus.

“Sorry,” I said for what felt like the hundredth time. I handed him the folder with the assignments. He reached out to grab them and I took in his mammoth forearms. Mason was a man. He wasn’t my chubby best friend from elementary school anymore. “I didn’t come in on purpose. I swear.”

He had kissed me on Saturday. I remembered my real reason for coming over. I didn’t think it was appropriate to bring up now. I had to let it go. He was just some conflicted straight boy who’d put this and any other gay feelings behind him. He’d marry some girl, have some kids, and she’d peg him well into old age. Me and this whole situation would become a distant memory.

He moved closer to me.

I moved back slightly.

He moved closer to me again.

“Mason, what’re—?” I didn’t know why I came here. I should have just ignored it. He dropped the folder on the ground and pulled me closer to himself.

“I haven’t been honest with myself,” he whispered, looking at me seriously. “Or with you.” I swallowed. He kissed me—on the lips this time. I felt them for the first time on my own lips. This was authentic lip to lip action. I wanted to grab his ass. I wanted to touch his belly. I wanted everything with Mason, but something was stopping me. He pulled away and looked at me again. “I think—I think that I’ve always wanted this.”

He was waiting on me to say something, and I could tell he started to worry. As much as my body ached for him, my mind was conflicted.

“I should go,” I whispered softly, afraid of how’d he’d react to this rejection. It was clear I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did. He just took a step back, his lower lip trembling like he was about to cry. I was an idiot. I left his room, closing his door behind me. I was moving pretty quickly now, needing to put as much distance between us as possible so I could clear my head.

“Later Aggy!” I called, opening their front door. I was on my bike and out on the street in a matter of seconds. I pedaled hard, so hard I could feel the burn in my legs.

I made my way home and into my room. I wouldn’t be able to think with the erection I had. I was rock hard the entire bike ride home. I had always been an avid masturbator, but recently it had gotten out of hand.

When I finished, I tried to make sense of the situation. It wasn’t as simple as Mason and I being able to fool around. Where were things going to go now? Would he come out? Would he want to date me? If Mason just wanted to experiment with me, I couldn’t do it, even if part of me wanted to be used by him. I’d spent the last three years allowing myself to be mistreated, and I was not ready to swap one form of degradation for another.

I finished my homework in a daze, not too sure of what I actually completed. I went to bed feeling absolutely miserable.

The next day, I avoided Mason like the plague. I felt wrong, like he really had been sick, and he was making a huge mistake. I went the whole day avoiding him. I didn’t even look in his direction, so I had no idea if he was looking in mine. After school I made my way to my bike. I had to get home. I just needed to be alone to think some more. I set down my bag and started to put in the combo for my bike lock.

I fell forward.

Someone had kicked me in the back as I was kneeling. I turned and saw that it was Bret. Of course it was Bret. He wasn’t alone today. Standing slightly behind him were these other football guys named Bill and Zeke. I wished my eyes were deceiving me, but Mason was there too, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. I tried to finish unlocking my bike, but Bret kicked me again and I fell forward once more. I looked up at Mason, the giant I had idealized for so long. He looked away. Bret said something obscene, but I was too intensely focused on Mason to catch exactly what was said. Our eyes met and we stared at each other for what felt like an eternity.

I hated Mason.

I stood up after finally getting my bike unlocked. I mounted it and tried to ride off. I was stopped and pushed over. I wondered why no teachers or staff members tried to intervene. There had to be at least one nearby. I had ripped my jeans when I hit the pavement. I tried to get up. They were all calling me names and laughing. Mason stood silent, their all-powerful leader.

I tried to ride off again and this time I got away. I was crying, but I was too far away from them to see me. I felt like I was nothing, an empty shell peddling home. Mason was—I didn’t know what he was. I didn’t know who he was anymore. We had gone down two completely different paths, and I had thought they were meeting back up. It was stupid of me to believe that. Our paths were only going to continue diverging.

I went around back and put my bike away before going inside to think about Mason some more. The way he looked away when I needed him had me seething. I pulled off my sneakers and the ripped pair of jeans. I hadn’t cut my knee at all, so that was something to be happy about. The doorbell rang. I sat on the sofa hoping they would go away. The bell kept ringing. And ringing. And ringing.

They weren’t going away. I was reaching my boiling point. I just needed to be alone, at least for an hour or so. I ran to the door and pulled it open aggressively.

“Can I help you—?” I asked, before registering who had been ringing the doorbell.

“Hey.” It was Mason. “Can I talk to you, please?” He looked down at my legs. I was in nothing but a t-shirt and pair of black briefs. I didn’t even care. I was still livid.

“What?” I asked harshly. “Did you come to beat me up too? I could have sworn you made the first move yesterday. But if you find it appropriate to pin all faggish activity on me I’m willing to carry the burden.”

“I’m so sorry, Oli.” I felt myself weaken. No. I needed to remain strong. His eyebrows were furrowed; his eyes were sad. Those sad, green eyes had gotten their way numerous times when we were younger.

“Okay, I accept your apology.” I began to close the door. “Goodbye.”

“Wait!” he called, using his weight to keep the door open. “I’m not finished. Can I come in?”

“No,” I said, trying my best to stand my ground. “I hope you fail English. I hope I never have to look at your stupid face ever again.”

“Oli,” he pleaded. He looked at me again with those sorrowful eyes. I hesitated for a moment, but then I moved out of the way so he could enter the house. He brought his beefy frame through the door.

“I’ve got to know,” he started, blushing. “Why did you run out yesterday?”

“Huh?”

“Yesterday, when I was, you know—uh masturbating.” I stood silent, unsure of what to say or what he wanted to hear. I really wasn’t too sure what his angle was anymore. Did that incident mean something to him or not? “Is it because you don’t like how I look? I know I’ve gained some weight. I’m just trying to get some more size, and I’ll lose the extra padding eventually. I’ll start losing it right now if that’s what it takes for you to be attracted to me.”

“Your appearance has absolutely nothing to do with why I left yesterday,” I said honestly. He really thought that was the only reason I left? Had he not considered the entire situation? The last three years of our lives?

“It doesn’t?” he asked, taken aback. “Well, I’m not sure but I think I might be—you know, gay. And—and I have all these feelings for you. Hanging out with you again has only helped me confirm what I knew all along. I missed my best friend, Oliver.”

“Mason—,” I started before he cut me off.

“I’m probably not even your type. That’s so fucking pretentious of me to assume you even think I’m attractive.”

“Mason, listen,” I said, looking him in the eye. “I always believed you didn’t mean to hurt me. I held out hope that we could at least one day be friends again. But the thing that happened Saturday, and then walking in on you yesterday. It just made me angry.”

He was still looking at me seriously, taking in everything I was saying, really trying to hear me out.

“Angry that you felt you couldn’t have talked to me sooner. Angry that you thought we could just sort of hook up? I don’t really know what you thought, but it doesn’t feel like you even tried to think about me at all.”

“You’re all I’ve been thinking about,” he said, his eyes watering. “I fucked up. I’m a pussy. I’m sorry Oliver. I’m so sorry.”

I couldn’t take it, looking at him with tears streaming down his face. I’d never seen such a big man cry before, and it made me feel like I needed to give him a hug. But if I didn’t stand up for myself now, I’d always be walked all over.

“When you asked me to help you with your English work do you remember what you said to me?” He shook his head no. “You told me that you didn’t want people to know you were associating with me. I felt so worthless, but I did it anyway because—because you’re still one of the most important people in my life.”

“I’ll never make you feel worthless ever again,” he said, his voice serious and honest. “I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you give me the chance.”

I crossed my arms, considering what he said. I believed him. I was scared that I believed him. What if I trusted him and got hurt even worse than before?

“I want us to be together,” he said, sniffling. “Being with you makes me feel good, and I want to feel good all the time.”

“I—I think that I want to be with you too,” I said, looking away from him, unsure of if it was a good idea to relent so easily.

“Really?” he asked, wiping his eyes.

It was building up inside of me, the love I had for him, the confession that had been left unsaid years ago. I felt it coming out, like word vomit.

“I love everything about you,” I started, still unable to look at him, “the way your eyebrows do that thing and the way you eat and don’t stop. And if you like bulking and powerlifting I don’t mind that. I think you look amazing and—and, I don’t know, Mason, if you gained more weight, I would still be attracted to you. Get as big as you want, really.”

“You’ve got to be kidding, Oliver. You’re probably one of the best-looking guys in school and you’re attracted to me? Girls hate that you’re gay.” He took a deep breath. “I have never felt the same about girls that I do about you. I think about you every day.”

“I’m not kidding,” I said, finally meeting his gaze. “You’re hot and—and I would even want you to get bigger. I don’t know how to explain it, but the fact that you’re getting bigger makes me really—you know.” I felt like such a weirdo. So much was happening all at once. “I’ve never thought you’ve looked so good.” It felt like the time I told him I was gay. I wondered if he’d just walk out like he had then.

“You’d be okay with me being bigger? For real?” he asked. I felt a slight amount of relief. He hadn’t walked out.

“Yes,” I said, my body tense with nerves. “I would.”

“I like this, being bigger. I always have,” he said. It was silent for a moment. “I want to be bigger. I want to get stronger. This size is something I would’ve never gotten if I kept playing football.” He laughed nervously.

“What?” I asked.

“You sure you’re okay being seen with some big monster?”

“I don’t think you could ever be a monster.” He walked towards me and kissed me so fast I almost fell over. He was huge, like a big teddy bear, and I loved it. I really did, a hundred percent. He laughed, kissing me through the tears on his face. He held me close to him, my dick pressing against him through my underwear.

“Now what?” I asked.

“I guess you’re my boyfriend,” he said seriously. “If you’re okay with that.”

My whole body felt intensely warm. It was like I was in a dream. Maybe I was. Maybe I’d crashed my bike on my way home and I was in a coma, my consciousness somewhere between earth and the great beyond.

Something weighed heavily on me and I was afraid to bring it up. I wanted to squeal with joy and cry tears of relief, but I had to make sure we were on the same page. I didn’t want to end up hurt and alone.

I was quiet, not sure how to ask Mason what was on my mind. I think he hated when I got all silent like this. He was a much more direct sort of person.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s just—am I, uh—is this a secret?”

“No,” he said, eyebrows serious. “I hate you even had to consider that. You’re never going to be a secret in my life ever again.”

I was his boyfriend.

He was my boyfriend.

We were boyfriend and boyfriend.

The next day in school Mason talked to me in every class. He sat with me at lunch. He stopped at my locker with me. He was trying very hard to prove to me that he was serious. He meant what he said about making it up to me for the last three years.

“Mason, what the fuck is your problem?” Bret asked disgustedly. “This whole day you’ve been acting weird.” Bret looked over at me, obviously insinuating that I was what was weird. English class had just ended, and Mason was going to give me a ride home, and not because he wanted something from me, just because he wanted to be around me. I hadn’t been this happy in a long time.

“What do you mean?” Mason asked, feigning ignorance.

“The fag, Mason. The fag.” Bret spat the word fag like it was a disease.

“I don’t think you should use that word anymore. Don’t be that guy.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to hear you using that word or making jokes or putting your hands on Oliver ever again. You or anybody else, so spread the word.”

“Are you in love with him or something?” Bret asked, trying to get a rise out of Mason.

“I might be, yeah,” Mason replied seriously. Bret’s eyes widened before he began to laugh hysterically. “We’re dating.”

“Mason, you are hilarious.” Mason leaned over towards me. He brought his face incredibly close to mine before he touched my lips softly with his own, kissing me. It was a gentle kiss, nothing too intense, but it made me feel exposed. I’d barely kissed anyone before and never in public. “You’re taking it too far dude. That was gay as hell.”

“Probably because I’m gay.”

“You’re—you’re not joking? You’re a fag too?”

“Yep,” Mason said, wrapping his beefy arm around me. “And watch your language, dude. There’s only so many times I’m going to tell you.”

Bret ran off, probably to go tell someone. By tomorrow every single person in the school would know. I wondered what people would say. I hoped Mason would be all right. Maybe that hadn’t been the smartest decision.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” I said, still thinking about him kissing me in front of Bret.

“It’s not like you’re my secret boyfriend.” He smiled and I melted.

He took me home and we went inside. We were going to study and hang out for a while. He told me that he wanted to spend so much time together that I’d get sick of him. I told him that’d never happen. And he said that meant we’d just be stuck with each other. We were in the second week of November, and the weather had cooled considerably. I volunteered to make hot chocolate and he happily accepted my offer. I also provided a plate of chocolate chip cookies I’d made the night before.

“Thanks,” he said as I handed him the drink. He sipped it carefully, making sure to collect the mini marshmallows. He must’ve gotten too excited because some of it spilled onto his lap. He stood quickly.

“Aw shit,” he said.

“Are you okay?” I asked, rushing to grab some paper towels.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said. “But I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of pissed I wasted some of my hot chocolate.” I laughed at his serious expression, telling him that I was more than willing to make him another mugful. We sopped up the bulk of the liquid with the paper towels, but he let me know he didn’t like the moist feeling.

“I don’t want it to soak into my underwear.”

He popped open the button of his jeans with a sigh of relief. He pulled them down and stood in my kitchen in a pair of navy boxer briefs. “I’ve got to get some new jeans.” He sure wasn’t modest. I was getting hard looking at his big hairy thighs. He could crush someone’s skull with those things. I kind of wanted my skull crushed.

“I don’t think I have anything that’ll fit you,” I said, still staring at his legs. “Maybe a pair of basketball shorts.”

“I’m good like this if you don’t mind,” he said, standing before me like a Grecian statue.

“No way. I don’t think I can control myself looking at you with your legs out like that.” He laughed, jokingly telling me that I was weird.

“They’re just legs,” he said, grinning at me. He’d always loved showing off, and I had always been a willing observer. “And who says you need to control yourself?”

“It’s not just your legs,” I said, getting excited. “It’s your ass. I’ve been looking at your butt for years.”

He turned, looking over his shoulder back at me. The fabric of his underwear separated each cheek, making his ass look even juicer. I wanted to take a bite out of it, my mouth watering at the sight of how much weight he was carrying back there. “If you’ve been checking it out for years, how’s it looking nowadays?”

“Phenomenal,” I said, zoning out. I was completely mesmerized. There was nothing that could break me out of this trance.

“You can grab it,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, like he didn’t know if what he said was okay. Was he testing my attraction to him? Who wouldn’t want to squeeze his meaty ass? I walked closer to where he stood, my hands cupping the ass I’d only ever dreamed of touching since I knew I liked men. I jiggled it slightly, impressed by how I could still feel the muscle underneath its fatty outer layer.

“It definitely feels bigger than I thought it would,” I said, still touching him.

“I do a lot of squats,” he said, laughing apprehensively. “I think it’s gotten bigger these last couple of weeks. Working out with my uncle and eating like I do has changed my body faster than I thought it would.”

He turned around, and I noticed he was hard. He looked down at his penis straining against his boxer briefs and then away from me, biting his lower lip nervously. I bet his muscle-gut blocked some of his lower half from sight. How long would it be before he wouldn’t be able to see his dick when he looked down?

It was nice that he physically reacted to me feeling him up, but was he expecting something more? Would he want to bottom? Was he prepared for that today? I had wondered when things would become more sexual between us. We’d known each other for so long, but not as sexual beings with lots of sexual urges.

I turned away from him, walking towards the freezer. I couldn’t take the awkwardness. I grabbed the ice cream from a few weeks ago that he never got to eat.

“Vanilla Fudge Banana Explosion,” he exclaimed gleefully.

“Yeah, I thought you might like it.” I grabbed a spoon, handing it to him along with the pint of ice cream. The little container in his large hand was really cute. He peeled off the lid and dug into the dessert greedily. This probably wasn’t enough ice cream to satiate him. He walked casually over towards a counter, pressing his butt up against it. He leaned back and ate spoonful after spoonful. He licked the spoon slowly after each mouthful.

Was he putting on a show for me? Like when we were younger?

“That was good,” he said after less than ten minutes of eating. A now empty container sat on the counter next to him. He gave a satisfied belch and put his hands on his slightly bloated middle.

“You really know how to eat,” I observed.

“It’s probably weird,” he started, pulling at the hem of his t-shirt, making sure not to meet my gaze, “but it kind of turns me on sometimes.”

“It’s not weird.”

I made my way to where he stood against the counter, reaching out and placing my hands on the sides of his middle. We both stood there, silently aroused. I could hear his breathing—in and out, in and out. I lifted his t-shirt. He rested his hand on my shoulder as I massaged his gut. He gave a satisfied moan that made my dick twitch.

“This feels really good.”

“It does?” I asked. I was on cloud nine, finally getting my hands on his gut after fixating over it for weeks. I could see he was getting hard, and I couldn’t believe he happened to be on the same wavelength as I was. I knew he said he liked being bigger, but I didn’t realize he liked it in this way.

“Don’t—don’t stop,” he whispered breathily, closing his eyes. He leaned his head back and grinned, unable to suppress the expression.

I was feeling bold, wanting to take further control of his pleasure. He could be in charge of everything else in our lives, but in this moment, I knew I was the one who could call the shots. I slid one of my hands down under his gut, sliding it into the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“Is this okay?” I asked, wanting to get his consent before I continued.

He just moaned again, whimpering as my hand wrapped around his erection.

“Tell me you want me to do this,” I commanded.

“I want it, Oliver,” he whispered. “Please don’t stop.”

He slid his thumbs into his waistband and pulled down his boxer briefs, so I had easier access to his penis. It was above average size and thick, but I was bigger and for some reason that really turned me on. I stroked him gently, enjoying how it pulsated in my hand. I noticed he relaxed his stomach muscles and his gut pushed forward some more. I looked up at his face and he looked back, his eyes glazed over. Fuck, was that a hot expression.

I stopped for a second, unbuttoning my jeans and pulling out my own dick. I stroked us both off, moving nice and slow. With both of my hands now occupied elsewhere, Mason took it upon himself to massage his stomach.

“That belly is looking real good,” I said, watching his expression carefully. He looked—pleased! His eyes were closed, but he got that grin on his face again. He grabbed his gut by the sides and gave it a shake.

He was close and I could tell. Seeing him so aroused was turning me on more than I thought possible. I was going to push him over the edge.

“Fuck Mason, I can only imagine how big your gut is gonna be a few months from now.”

It was a risk, but it paid off. He shot a huge stream of cum across the kitchen floor. He looked at me now, his eyes still had that glazed-over look and he fell to his knees. He grabbed at my jeans, pulling them down along with my underwear.

“Whoa, Mason, what’re—?”

He licked the head of my penis holding the shaft in his somewhat rough hand. His mouth was warm, and he worked my dick with unexpected finesse. Looking down at the top of his head, I took in his curly brown hair. I couldn’t believe this huge beefy guy was on his knees giving me head. I also couldn’t believe this huge beefy guy was Mason of all people.

“Mase, I’m coming.” He removed my dick from his mouth, and I felt cum erupt from inside of me so forcefully I got lightheaded. It wasn’t until I was completely finished that I was able to take in what had occurred. Mason was still on his knees, his face covered in my cum. “Oh shit, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice low. He didn’t seem like everything was okay. He got off of his knees, pulling up his underwear. We cleaned up in silence. He got my cum off his face, and I got his cum off the floor. He was the one who broke the silence. “That was weird.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, kind of,” he said, looking down at the kitchen tiles. “What was with that stuff you were saying?”

“Did you not like that?” I asked, feeling less confident than I had been during our sexual encounter. Things were shifting back into their regular alignment. Me being awkward. Mason being intimidating.

“I just—when we talked about me being bigger, you didn’t just mean muscles, did you?”

“I—I, uh, there’s nothing wrong with being bigger.”

“Were you just saying that because you figured out that’s what I’m into?” he asked. “You don’t have to, like, force yourself to be attracted to me like this.”

“Mason,” I started, “I think it’s more than obvious we like the same thing. I don’t know how we lucked out like this, but that gut you’ve got is definitely sexy.” He just laughed.

“Oli, c’mon,” he said. “You’re legit gorgeous. You could be an underwear model or something, I mean, damn, your quads are amazing.” I laughed. He reached out, grabbing my arm, and pulled me forward. He rested his masculine hands on my ass, like I had always wanted. “And this bubble butt is something else.”

“I’ve got to know Mason. When did you start thinking you might be gay?”

“The day you told me,” he said. I pushed myself away from his solid body.

“What?”

“Yeah, you coming out to me was really confusing. And I figured I should avoid you for a little while to figure things out—I didn’t think it’d be three years though, sorry.”

I just laughed. We’d missed out on years together. There really was nothing to do but find the humor in the situation, because otherwise it would be too sad to think about.

“I started watching gay porn freshman year and I bought that sex toy about a year ago.”

“You’re something else,” I said. “I guess that’s why I like you so much.”

He smiled and it just felt like it got easier to breathe. I ended up making him another mug of hot chocolate before throwing his jeans in the washing machine. Being domestic with him was turning me on, but then again, anything involving Mason was a turn on. I was starting to feel more peaceful. Mason and I would keep talking and figuring things out about this relationship. We had time. We finally had time.

Christmas break came after what felt like an eternity. Of course, people were talking about me and Mason. We could hear their not-so-whispered remarks every single day. He ignored it and held my hand through it all, which really meant a lot to me. He was an incredible person.

Mason had been so liked by everyone, that it was odd to see his old friends ignore him or mumble fucked-up things under their breath when he was nearby. I didn’t know how he could take it, falling so far from the graces of the popular crowd. I had always been on the outskirts, so I couldn’t really understand what he was going through.

We’d made it through Thanksgiving unscathed. It was a little sad we couldn’t spend the holiday together, but Mason hadn’t come out to his family and I hadn’t told my mom we were dating. He’d pushed himself incredibly hard these last couple of weeks, so if he wanted to ease into telling his parents, I wasn’t going to complain.

But that tranquility Mason was experiencing at home was short lived. If the entire high school knew Mason was gay, there was only a matter of time before word got back to people’s parents. Those parents talked to other parents, and those parents talked to Mason’s parents.

The first night of break, Mason was confronted by his father about what he’d heard from a customer in his auto shop. I hated the look on Mason’s face when he told me this story. It was heartbreaking. It felt like it was all my fault.

Mason’s dad threw him out. Mr. Megalos took him up by the collar of his shirt and threw him out the front door. Well, he grabbed his collar, yes, and likely pulled him by it, but I doubted he could actually lift Mason to throw him anywhere. His mom let him back in of course, but he packed a bag and left. He’d shown up on my doorstep a little before midnight. It was obvious he’d been crying.

“They found out,” he said. And I knew. I knew his heart was probably in a million pieces.

“Oliver, who is at the door?” My mother walked into the foyer, wrapping herself in a fluffy robe. She’d gotten in from work about an hour ago and had just finished with some self-care. I was glad she’d just taken a bath, because I needed her to be in a good mood.

“Mom, it’s Mason,” I said.

“Well look at that,” she said, taking him in for the first time in three years. “What has Katerina been feeding you?” Mason gave a half-hearted laugh, and I grabbed his arm, pulling him into the house.

“It’s, uh, good to see you Ms. Bailey.”

“Mason, you can go up to my room while I talk to my mom.”

My mom raised her eyebrows at this, watching as Mason walked towards the rear of the house where the stairs were. That was when the begging began. She had me on my knees.

“You know he can’t stay here Oliver.”

“Mom,” I pleaded, my voice somewhat whiny. “He needs this. He’s my best friend. Please.” She laughed, and I knew it was because she didn’t consider Mason to be my best friend anymore. I hadn’t mentioned him in years; the last time she’d brought him up, I blew up at her.

(“Oliver, sweetheart, you don’t want to invite Mason to celebrate your birthday with us?” I was turning sixteen and I hadn’t talked to Mason in nearly eleven months.

She knew something had been off between us, as Mason hadn’t been to our house since I came out to him.

“It’s just another day,” I replied, feeling especially mopey. “He’s probably busy anyway.”

“I could call Katerina,” she suggested. “If you boys had a falling out, we can get things back on track. He’s been your best friend since first grade.” I was embarrassed. I didn’t know how to navigate how I was feeling. There was just so much shame and sadness that I hadn’t really taken the time to unpack.

“Can you just shut up?” I demanded. “We aren’t friends anymore, okay? It was my fault. There’s no way to fix it, so can you please just drop it?” I stormed off to my bedroom after that. I spent the rest of my sixteenth birthday alone crying in my bedroom. It was definitely a low. I knew the only reason my mom didn’t come after me was because it was my birthday. If it were any other day and I spoke to her like that, I’d probably be dead.)

“Oliver, we just can’t. You need to let his family work out whatever problem they’re dealing with.”

“Mom, if—if he can’t stay, I’ll leave with him,” I said, being dramatic.

“No, you won’t,” she replied, laughing. She was calling my bluff.

“I will,” I said, trying my best to win her over. “We’ll wander the streets, sleep in his Jeep. I might even have to become a prostitute to scrape by. We’ll drop out of high school. Do some drugs. Is that what you want Mom? I really don’t think it is.” I sounded like I was describing the plot of some made-for-TV movie.

“Oliver,” my mother said with a theatrical groan, massaging her temples. She obviously wanted to laugh at my monologue, which I knew would play into my favor. “If Katerina and Adrian come to take him home, we aren’t going to fight them on it, do you understand?”

She smiled at me gently. She was legit the best mother in the entire world. She probably only relented because she had just gotten in from work (and she’d had her bubble bath and a glass of wine). She worked as a nurse during a shift that went from three until ten-thirty, and that was when the hospital didn’t ask her to come in early or stay late.

“Yes, thank you!” I actually jumped for joy, clasping my hands together in gratitude. “You won’t even notice that he’s here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she replied. “He needs to sleep in your room because I don’t want him on my sofa. We just got that thing last year and the way he’s looking, it’d be sunken in within the month.”

I just laughed, promising Mason would not be allowed anywhere near her sofa. She likely assumed Mason was not gay. I knew right away that Mason had been outed to his family, but I didn’t make that information privy to my mother. When explaining why he needed to stay with us, I just sort of said his dad was mad about him quitting the football team and putting on some weight. I had been planning on telling her we were dating, but it was probably a good thing I hadn’t mentioned it.

“Okay, that’s fine. I’m sure he won’t mind the floor for a little while.”

“Goodnight Oliver,” she said, walking towards where her bedroom was on the first floor. The second floor was an addition, and the only thing up there was my bedroom and a bathroom. “Mommy is tired. They want me to come in early tomorrow, so you kids need to keep it down.”

“Yes, of course,” I replied. “Goodnight best mom in the entire universe.”

“Yeah, sure.” She rolled her eyes, chuckling under her breath. “Tell Mason it was nice seeing him again.”

I made my way to the rear of the house and ran up the stairs to my room. I closed the door quietly.

“She said you could stay here until you’re able to work things out with your family.” I was smiling at him, but that excitement was short-lived. This wasn’t some slumber party. He was here because he couldn’t be at home.

“Thank God,” he said with a sigh of relief.

“She said you have to sleep in here,” I said in mock-apology. “I hope you don’t mind, but we’ll have to share a bed.”

“Well damn it,” he replied. “I guess if there’re no other alternatives.” He got off of my bed and walked towards me. He put his arms around me slowly and kissed me. I wrapped my arms around him—which had gotten considerably more difficult post-Thanksgiving. I kissed him a little bit longer before pushing him away.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, trying to cull my arousal. We could not have sex right now. I felt weird about doing things like that with my mom in the house. I totally wouldn’t be able to focus.

“Yeah, I don’t really want to think about it,” he answered. “I’d rather make out with my boyfriend—among other things.”

“We have to wait until tomorrow, or my mom will hear and freak out,” I said seriously.

We’d masturbated together a few more times since the first experience in the kitchen. He’d given me head a few more times, and I reciprocated that as well. But we hadn’t done the actual deed. With him living here for an unknown amount of time, especially during winter break, we were likely going to go all the way.

“We can be quiet,” he whined. I was so turned on by the fact he enjoyed being intimate with me. Hearing him beg for it almost had me relenting.

“It will be better tomorrow,” I said, walking over to my laundry basket and throwing my shirt into it.

“Fine,” he pouted before smiling. “But don’t expect me to let go of you all night.”

We got into the bed and he kept his promise. At least for this night, the first time we ever were going to sleep together in the same bed, he had me pulled closely into his beefy body. My full-sized bed was just right, but at the rate Mason was growing, I didn’t think it would be just right for long.

I knew he didn’t want to talk about what happened with his dad, at least not yet, so we enjoyed one another in silence. Before long, I could hear him gently snoring behind me. He was very warm and that made me feel so calm, that before long, I was also fast asleep.

I was awake a little after six and immediately got up to take a shower. Mason was still sleeping even after I finished my shower, so I went to make him breakfast. I had made hash browns, scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. He was still sleeping when I finished around nine.

I ate with my mom and she let me know she was going to spend the morning shopping with my grandmother. She would be home this afternoon to take a nap and get ready for work. After she left, I went to wake up Mason.

He sat up quickly when I mentioned there was breakfast waiting for him downstairs. He got out of bed. He was wearing a pair of gray boxer briefs and a white undershirt. His thighs were huge and strong looking. His ass was barely contained by the ash-colored fabric. His belly pushed the small shirt up a bit, around his belly button. His arms looked massive, and I wanted to grab ahold of them and never let go.

Breakfast. Breakfast. Breakfast.

“You can use the bathroom and come down for breakfast,” I said finally, regaining focus.

“Okay,” he said, sleepy eyed, scratching his tummy. He went off to the bathroom connected to my bedroom. I heard the flush of the toilet, then the sink turning on and off, and about five minutes later he exited the bathroom, face scrubbed, and teeth brushed. We made our way downstairs.

Looking at the table, there was a ridiculous amount of food for one person. Even with what my mother and I ate, there was way too much for Mason. I’d used almost an entire bag of potatoes for the hash browns. I’d have to get another carton of eggs, having used the ten that we had in the fridge. The toast was buttered, and the bacon was crisp. I’d definitely been excited while cooking, thinking with my dick and not my head.

“I realize now this is an excessive amount of food.”

“I didn’t get to eat dinner last night,” he said. “I’m starving.”

He wasn’t kidding. He really was.

Mason tackled the spread like a competitive eater. He took a piece of toast and carefully folded it in half before adding some of the other ingredients, making a sort of taco. He did this until the eight pieces of toast were gone. He then ate what was left of the eggs and hash browns with hot sauce. He drank two big glasses of milk too. I didn’t realize how much he could eat. I was sitting at the table across from him.

It was after breakfast. My mom wasn’t home. We could finally have at it.

“You ate all of it,” I said, touching my boner underneath the table. I was wearing a pair of running shorts that came about halfway up my thigh. I was easily able to access my dick.

“Yeah,” he said, his face going red. “I didn’t have dinner and I was really hungry and it tasted so good.” He placed his hands on his belly.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, tugging at the hem of his shirt, failing to keep it down. Majority of his clothes had begun to fit this way. “I guess you were wrong about the whole me getting fatter thing.”

“I was not wrong,” I said, standing. He took in my massive erection and smiled, relief showing on his face.

“We really are a pair of sexual deviants, huh?” I walked to his side of the table and grabbed his hand. He stood up, looking down at me for a moment. He scooped me up and held me in his powerful arms. We looked at one another for a moment. His eyebrows were so serious it made me laugh. He joined in and we laughed hard for a few moments.

“I got excited,” he said.

“I’m glad you’re so excited. It means it’s not just me.” Still in his arms, he made his way towards the stairs and ran us up to my room.

In a flurry, our clothing items flew off our bodies. His t-shirt, my shorts. My sweatshirt, his boxer briefs. We stood completely naked in the middle of my bedroom, and it was all sort of surreal.

“Oli, you’ve got a body like a porn star.”

“You may not be as defined as I am, but I’d much rather see you in a porno.” He laughed.

“We could be in one together,” he said, joking. “It’d be the only video I’d ever need for the rest of my life.”

I smiled at him, my hands on his waist. I enjoyed how he’d begun to spread out. His gut hadn’t been like this back in October. He was developing love handles, with little stretch marks around where his torso met his hips.

My hands moved to his biceps and he flexed them for me. My dick jumped at how solid his arms were, craving his body. “Do you want to fuck me?” he asked.

“Are you serious?” I asked.

He nodded.

I grabbed a condom and lube from a box in my closet. I didn’t think I’d ever get to use these things, and here I was about to use them with Mason. He moved onto the bed and he put his ass out for me.

“Have you ever done this before?” he asked.

“No, but I’ve seen a lot of porn,” I said truthfully, almost half-regretting my honesty. “Have you ever had sex before?”

“No,” he said. “I hadn’t even kissed anyone before I kissed you.” I had made out with some guys before, but I didn’t want to spoil how sweet that was. Something about this whole situation was kind of empowering.

“I’ll be gentle,” I said, trying to be suave. Sure, I had seen my fair share of pornography, but seeing something and executing something were two very different things. I didn’t want to be bad at it. I was always the passive, quiet one and I had to admit, I enjoyed the idea of being the dominant one in the bedroom.

I lubed up my penis as well as his asshole. I slapped his butt, enjoying the sound it made. I did it again and he gasped softly. He arched his back a little, accentuating the size of his ass.

I entered his beautiful ass slowly. I started with just the head, not wanting to hurt him. He was breathing loudly, but it didn’t sound like he was in pain. I moved slightly, pushing a little more of myself into him, and felt a tingle go throughout my whole body. Mason continued gasping and whimpering and breathing loudly as I slowly pushed more and more of my dick inside of him.

“Christ!” he yelped. I stopped moving.

“Do you need me to stop?” I asked.

“Fuck, Oli,” he said, panting. “It’s starting to feel good. Keep going.” I did as I was told and bucked my hips back and forth, the sound of my upper thighs slamming against his fat ass creating a sort of beat. About halfway through he started tugging at his dick, moaning loudly as he came. That did it for me, and after a few more strokes, I filled the condom with my cum.

I was sure if someone were watching it would have looked awkward, but I didn’t care at all. I had never felt closer to a person. I had never felt closer to Mason.

Actual sex was way better than masturbating.

“Are you okay?” I asked, removing the condom and throwing it in my trashcan.

“That felt really good.” Mason was still panting. I walked over to the bed where he was laying down and laid next to him. “I was worried there for a second, but little Oli sure knows what he’s doing.” I laughed.

“That was possibly the best experience of my life,” I said. He rolled over on top of me, straddling me, and covered my face with kisses. I loved it.

“How much do you weigh now?” I inquired, feeling his weight pressing me down.

“Get the scale,” he said, swinging himself from on top of me. I got off of the mattress and made my way to the bathroom. I got the scale and set it in the center of my bedroom. He placed his large feet on the scale, and I read the number.

“283 pounds.” In less than three months, Mason had gained nearly sixty pounds. I was getting hard again just thinking about where he’d be three months, six months, a year from now. I stepped on the scale next, also getting off on how much more he weighed than I did. It read 160 pounds and a little extra. 123 pounds. Mason was 123 pounds bigger than me.

“You’re fucking tiny,” he said in disbelief, looking down at the number displayed on the monitor. “I never realized how little you are." I turned my naked body to face him and gestured to my flaccid cock, which admittedly, was still pretty big.

“I wasn't talking about that,” he said with a laugh. “I haven’t weighed 160 pounds since the fifth grade.”

“Do you not like me being skinny?”

“I find your skinniness to be quite the turn on.” He kissed me, grabbing my ass. “And if we’re being honest, you store all your weight in just the right places.” I didn’t know why that made me so flustered, but it did. I felt my face go hot. I liked that he thought I had a nice ass.

“I’d have to say the same goes for you,” I said.

“I hope to get much bigger,” he said, stepping back from me. He flexed his arms and I felt myself getting hard again. He knew what he was doing, turning me on. He turned around, so I could look at his wide back and juicy butt. He was damn near a wall. He turned back around and looked at me with extreme intensity.

“What’s with that look all of a sudden?”

“I want to be able to keep you safe, Oli. I’m going to be big enough to protect you from everything.” I was so turned on again. He was adorable.

“Thanks Mason,” I said, reaching out to embrace him. We stood together for a few minutes before we took a shower and got dressed. Throughout the day Mason ate all the snacks we had in the house. We went shopping and stockpiled food in my bedroom. He didn’t want to let my mother know he was constantly inhaling food. We did have to keep all the milk he got in the fridge. I wondered what my mom would say about it. Two weeks of him eating this way and he’d get huge.

Holiday break could only last the two weeks; I knew it could only be two weeks, and yet the morning classes were to resume, I was an anxious mess. Mason’s constant eating slapped another ten pounds onto his beefy frame, putting him at 293 pounds. Everyone was going to notice. He was gigantic. He was still incredibly muscular underneath his recent gain though, only making him appear even wider.

The only time Mason was away from me was when he’d go to meet with his uncle to lift weights. Galvin told Mason he didn’t care that he was gay, and that Mason’s dad would come around soon. It meant a lot to Mason that his uncle still supported him.

Mason’s arms were big and strong, and his thighs were probably so large to hold up his massive bubble butt. His belly pushed up all his shirts and buttoning pants was just a waste of time, so he wore sweatpants and the biggest sweatshirt he could find. I felt bad. This day was going to be bad. He looked good to me of course, but everyone was going to stir up trouble. I didn’t want to go to school.

He drove us to school that morning and things were fairly similar to the way they were before break. That’s not to say people weren’t making comments, but there was nothing too out of the ordinary. Things were actually bearable until lunch.

We sat together, eating lunch amidst the stares of our nosy classmates. I had a fruit salad, some fries, a grilled chicken sandwich, and a banana. Mason had bought three slices of pizza, fries, chicken tenders, and three milks. It was like he didn't care about what was happening at all—all the stares, all the names, the comments, and dirty looks.

“How are you doing this?” I asked, eating a few fries, but not really feeling all that hungry. My stomach was in knots. He was already on his second slice of pizza.

“Well, I mean you kind of move your mouth in a gnawing motion after placing food in there. Like this—,” he said, taking a colossal bite and chewing theatrically. I laughed loudly. He was so dumb sometimes, able to make a joke that could distract me from my negative feelings. He smiled at me and started on his chicken tenders.

“I meant all of the people,” I said, clarifying what I was sure he knew I was originally referring to.

“I just don’t care,” he said seriously. “I wasted three years of my life caring about what other people thought. It’s 2012. Being gay shouldn’t be this big of an issue. I let other people tell me being gay was wrong. I don’t see anything wrong with it.” He gulped down his second milk, nibbling at his remaining fries. His sweatshirt exposed a bit of belly as it set in his lap. “I love you, Oli. I just think about that and I don’t even notice everybody else.”

He loved me? I knew I loved him too, but we hadn’t said it before.

“I think I’ll try that,” I said. “Thinking about how much I love you.” I thought I was supposed to be the one thinking positive? I was proud to call Mason my boyfriend.

I opened my banana and heard an increase in laughter. I looked over at Bret pointing at me.

“You thinking about Mason’s dick?” he called, causing his table to erupt in laughter again. I forgot not to get a banana. I hadn’t eaten a banana at school since freshman year. I moved the banana away from my lips, visibly distraught. It was so embarrassing being made fun of in front of Mason.

“Can I have that?” Mason asked as he smiled at me. I handed him the banana. “Thanks.” He put it in and out of his mouth suggestively, making a ridiculous face as well. He then shoved the whole thing in greedily. He had me doubled over in laughter again. He was so absurd sometimes. He chewed and drank the last milk.

“Mase, you’re so goofy.”

“Thanks. That was so good,” he said loudly, for Bret and his cronies to hear. He smiled again, his eyes sparkling. Was I falling even more in love with him? He leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach. “I’m still hungry. I think I got too used to you keeping me well-fed. I’m going to get a cookie.”

“Okay,” I said, taking a bite out of my sandwich. I felt better. Better than ever. I was almost done with my sandwich when Bret came over. That positive feeling didn’t stand a chance.

“What’s up faggot?”

“I don’t care what you call me.” I stood, looking to find Mason so we could spend the rest of the lunch period in the library. We could study for English. Anything would be better than having to stay around Bret for an extended period of time. Bret placed his hand on my shoulder and forced me back into my seat.

“I don’t give a fuck what you care about.” I looked up at him from my seat. He narrowed his blue eyes at me, making him look like a rat. This guy really hated me. I stood up again and turned to walk away, kind of afraid of what he was going to do to me. “I hate what you are. You did something to Mason.”

“Like what?” I asked, turning to face him. Did he think I was blackmailing Mason? Threatening him with violence? Casting love spells?

“I don’t know.” He took a cupcake from a tray on a neighboring table. He looked down at it for a moment, likely pausing for dramatic effect, before he slammed it into my face. “But I don’t like it.”

I’d spent years dealing with this sort of treatment from Bret, but for some reason this was actually getting to me. We were in the middle of the cafeteria and nearly everyone was looking at us now. I wanted to be strong. I wanted to take Mason’s words to heart. But he hadn’t experienced just how awful I’d been treated. I warily scrapped some of the frosting from around my eyes.

“Oh shit,” one of the girls nearby mumbled to the friend she was sitting with.

I turned, watching as Mason made his way over to where Bret and I stood. I saw his eyes travel from my face to Bret’s. Mason calmly set his cookies on the table next to me and pushed up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. The whole cafeteria was silent. It was like every sound had been magically muted.

“Mason,” I said nervously, trying to pull him away from Bret. “We need to go study for the Spanish quiz. We have to go now.” Bret was no match for Mason, and everyone else was still too afraid to even try and fight him. Mason was going to get in trouble. He used to get into fights all the time. He had never hit me, but I’d seen him pummel other assholes.

Mason yanked his arm from my grasp easily. Everything happened so fast, but I don’t think Bret landed a single blow on Mason. After about three minutes, I saw Bret was all purple and bloody.

“Fucking bitch!” Mason spat, his voice intense like the roar of a grizzly. The school security officers were coming. “You lay a hand on my boyfriend again and you’re dead.”

“Come on!” I pulled his sweatshirt and he finally stormed out.

“I should have killed him,” he said angrily, nostrils flared. He was breathing heavily.

“Okay, so yeah, Bret’s the worst,” I started, picking cupcake out of my eyebrows, “but I don’t think life in prison is going to solve anything. It’s not worth it.”

“I know, you’re right,” he said, his breathing slowing. “I just don’t want you to get hurt by him anymore.”

“By a cupcake?” I asked jokingly, trying to calm him down further.

“You know what I mean,” he said.

He leaned against a row of lockers. This wasn’t going to go unchecked by the school. They’d call his parents over this. He might even get suspended.

“I forgot my fucking cookies!” he exclaimed angrily.

“I could totally make you some!” This side of Mason was really hot, but I knew he wasn’t feeling great about the whole situation. As sexy as angry-Mason was, I still preferred when he was happy.

“Let’s go.”

“Huh?” I asked, trotting behind him. He was making his way towards the exit. We ditched Spanish and English. I had never ditched a class before, and I felt like a fugitive.

He pulled up outside of my house.

“I’ll be back,” he said. I nodded and got out of the Jeep. He drove off. I had never seen Mason so upset. I was pretty sure it had a lot to do with what Bret represented. Bret was a past that Mason wanted to forget. I knew Mason still struggled with guilt about how things had been between us the last three years, and I tried to assure him I had let that stuff go, but I knew he thought about it a lot. I didn’t know how to emphasize to him I wanted to just move on. High school would be over soon, and I would get to start the important years of my life. He had read an article about teen suicide in the LGBTQ+ community a few weeks ago. He looked sick after he finished it. I remember he looked at me seriously and said, “You could’ve killed yourself.”

Mason returned. He had gone to the gym. I looked at him and saw his huge arms and thighs looked pumped. He went to my bathroom and took a shower. I sat on the bed waiting. He exited the bathroom in a towel. His belly hung over the pink fabric. He dropped the towel revealing a beautiful ass. He looked so huge. Bret hadn’t stood a chance this afternoon.

I was always semi-erect around Mason but looking at him naked in front of me had me fully hard. He walked over to me and sat next to me on the bed. He leaned his body against mine. I could hear him breathing. I felt him press into me bit by bit. He was kind of whimpering, like a big Mastiff puppy.

“I’m so sorry, Oliver,” he said.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” I placed my hand on his monstrous thigh, squeezing it gently. “You stood up for me today, and I’m still hard thinking about how hot it was.” He grabbed me, pulling me close and passionately kissing me.

He ended up on his back in the bed and I ended up giving him head. It was the least I could do for how he stood up for me. And Mason couldn’t help himself, so I ended up getting head in return. But then I couldn’t help myself and found myself with his dick in my mouth again. It was a cycle that I didn’t really want to see broken.

That fight with Bret didn’t go unchecked by school administration. Mason’s parents had to come have a meeting with the principal and the dean. Both he and Bret were let off with warnings, but the school made it very clear that they could not protect Mason from the law next time, considering he was nineteen and Bret was only seventeen.

He moved back home after that, which was honestly kind of sad. We’d only gotten to live with one another for less than a month. He and his father did finally start talking again, but Mason told me it was strained conversation.

Nobody messed with us again until Valentine’s Day. In our school there was a fundraiser where a person could purchase a flower to send to a friend or crush or romantic partner. Of course, I had never gotten one, but Mason used to get tons of them every year. I went to buy one and I wrote a card for it. I wrote: Mason, I love you. Yours forever, Oliver.

I thought it looked sophisticated and mature. I paid the two dollars, took the carbon copy receipt, and went to class. I wondered if he even thought about those stupid flowers. Then I wondered if he got me one. I was getting all excited thinking about it, but I knew to keep my expectations in check.

I met him before first period. We were working when the flowers were delivered. I didn’t expect one this period. They measured out the number of flowers a person was to receive and equally distributed them throughout the day. If a person were to receive only one rose, they’d get it during their last period of the day. But I got one anyway, in first period, which meant I had more coming. There was no name. It was a card with one word: Faggot.

Mason looked at me to see who it was from, but I quickly put it in my pocket. “I hope you’re not cheating on me,” he joked, smiling at me.

“Of course not!”

“Well, why can’t I see the card?”

“It’s mine,” I said. This was likely Bret fucking with me again. I could not let Mason know about this. He might actually kill Bret this time, and I didn’t very much think orange was Mason’s color. “Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not,” he replied sternly, his eyebrows furrowed. He was mad. Throughout the day I got the flowers with the same card. With each one, Mason got more and more unnerved. I thought he was going to beat the shit out of me. At lunch he didn’t say a word. He ate a lot extra so he wouldn’t have to talk to me. I didn’t want him to see them. We couldn’t afford another incident like when he beat Bret to a pulp over a cupcake. He’d go berserk if he knew what was happening.

We walked to Spanish in silence. I got another card, and it said the same thing, but with a name—Bret. Surprise, surprise. I knew it was him. Nobody else would go so far to harass someone. Mason gave me a look of death and I felt a knot form in the pit of my stomach. I just wanted to go home. English came and I got my first nice flower all day. It said: I think you’re the best boyfriend in the world. Love, Mason.

I put that one in a separate pocket. Mason had gotten his first flower, which I was assuming was the one I purchased for him. He scanned it over and over. I hoped he liked it. Maybe it would make up for not showing him the Bret cards. I looked up at him and smiled. He stood up and stormed out; I followed. I heard Bret laughing as I entered the hallway.

“Mason! Wait up, what’s wrong? Mason!” He turned to face me. I saw he was trying to think about what to do. He pushed me into a locker, and it felt like he was getting ready to punch me.

“You—,” he started. He pulled out the card and read. “‘It’s over, Mason. I’ve gotten you back for three years of absolute torment. Did you really think I’d ever want to be with you, especially now? You’re a joke.’” Mason hadn’t stopped growing since moving back home. He was up another ten pounds, putting him at 303 pounds. I loved every ounce of him. I would never send that. I hoped he’d be smart enough to realize that.

“Please don’t hit me,” I exclaimed, flinching. He didn’t. Thank Jesus; he could have given me internal bleeding or something.

“I’d never put my hands on you,” he said angrily. Now he was mad and offended.

“I would never send that,” I said, pulling out the carbon copy receipt. “Look.” I handed him the card and he read it, looking relieved.

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” he groaned. He was getting worked up. I had a bad feeling. “I knew you didn’t send this, and it still got me emotional. I’m so sorry for pushing you. I’d never hit you. I swear I wouldn’t. But those cards you’ve been getting all day have really fucked with my head.” I reached into my pocket and handed him the cards. I hadn’t wanted him to see them, but at this point I had to be honest.

“These are the cards I’ve been getting all day, okay?” He read them and really went insane, heading for the exit.

“Mason, we’re going home, yeah?”

“Hell no. We are waiting for Bret and this is going to end today. Oliver, I’m going to kill him. I swear to God, I might just kill him.”

“You’ll get in trouble,” I said immediately. “No way.”

“Not if it’s after school.” That was ridiculous. He’d so still get in trouble. We passed through the doors leading outside as the afternoon announcements came on.

“You can’t do this Mason,” I said, trying my best to calm him down. “You’ve got to let this go.” The bell finally rang and two minutes later kids surged out of the building. He ran right at Bret who had been describing what he had done to two of his own beta-males. Bret was knocked to the ground.

Bret looked up at Mason from the ground. Mason was in a t-shirt alone. We hadn’t stopped at our lockers. The sleeves in the underarm area ripped with the advanced movement of his huge arms. Mason leaned over and punched him, harder and harder.

He stood straight up, hovering over Bret who was still laying on the pavement. “You ever fuck with us again, you’ll get your ass kicked worse than this.” There was a group around us, which formed a circle. Mason then spoke to them, turning every so often. It was almost like we were in the Colosseum, Mason a gladiator orating to the spectators.

“I like men,” Mason began. “But don’t let that confuse you. I can still fuck up anybody who steps to me or my boyfriend.” People were hanging on his every word. It was amazing.

“And this bitch over here,” Mason continued, gesturing towards Bret, “Has the weirdest fucking obsession with us. He went out of his way to send my boyfriend flowers all day today. I guess you could say he has a little crush.” This had people laughing now. “Babe, you should thank him for the flowers, but do let him down easy.”

“Uh, thanks for the flowers,” I said, uneasy having been put on the spot, but excited to be standing up to Bret in front of everyone for the first time. “But I’ve already got a boyfriend, so maybe you could find someone else.” The circle erupted in a resounding ‘Ohhhh!’ and lots of laughter.

“So who started this?” Mason asked the bloodthirsty spectators.

“Bret!” the crowd shouted. “Bret! Bret! Bret!” Mason started to walk off and I followed close behind him. The crowd parted so we could pass. I had never wanted to fuck him more than now. We could still hear people chanting and laughing as we made it to his Jeep.

Once inside, he drove towards my house, eyes focused intently on the road. His stomach growled loudly. There was a slight pause after the growling ceased, and then we both laughed loudly.

“Now I’m starving,” he said. I knew exactly what I wanted to make him.

As soon as we made it to my house, I started cooking. Mason went off to take a shower, saying something about needing to cool off. The whole situation with Bret still had him slightly heated. I was definitely still wound up from that encounter too, but not in the same way as Mason. Just thinking about how he’d stood up for the both of us had me soaking through my briefs. I’d been hard for some time now, ever since Mason’s whole ‘Are you not entertained?’ bit.

I cooked and cooked and cooked until I ended up making much more food than I thought we needed. It was just the two of us, but I’d made enough for five. I just couldn’t control myself when cooking for Mason. I loved seeing how much he could put away, how pleased his face would be when he ate an excessive amount of food.

I made the Oli Cheesy Chicken Special. It was a dumb concept that I came up with back in middle school during the early days of my culinary exploration. The main component was a mozzarella-stuffed chicken breast that I would deep fry. I served it with macaroni and cheese. And, even though I knew it was overkill, broccoli covered in a cheese sauce (I’d even made a dozen rolls, and no, they weren’t cheese stuffed). It was a lactose-intolerant person’s worst nightmare, but Mason had never had any problems with dairy. He probably couldn’t go on living without it. I made five of those chicken breasts, a huge serving dish worth of broccoli, and enough mac and cheese for a family of four.

About an hour later he came lumbering down the stairs. I’d just finished plating the food, with parsley and everything. He sat at the table, shirtless, and I took in his quarter-sized nipples. His pecs were still firm but had a nice layer of fat over them. My mouth didn’t water when I thought about dinner, but Mason’s tits had me almost drooling all over myself. I never would have thought he would be this big. I set his plate and silverware in front of him, and then the basket of rolls.

“I made too much,” I said.

“I don’t think so,” he said, smiling up at me from his seat at the table, “especially since you made the Oli Cheesy Chicken Special.” I felt my face go hot. It meant a lot to me that Mason remembered the name of this meal, but I needed to come up with a new one. Something that wasn’t so embarrassing. I wasn’t twelve anymore.

“I’ll get you something to drink,” I said, walking towards the fridge and pouring him a glass of milk.

“Thanks.” He didn’t waste time getting started. He didn’t even use silverware to eat the chicken breast, simply picking it up and taking a large bite, pulling the meat away from his mouth causing an impressive cheese pull.

In this moment, watching him happily eat, I realized that Mason hadn’t really changed all that much since we were younger. Yeah, he was over a hundred pounds bigger and six inches taller, but he was still the same silly, considerate, sometimes hot-headed guy I’d always had a crush on.

I must’ve been staring, because he looked up from his plate, catching my gaze. He stopped racing through the food on his plate, eating more slowly.

“What’re you staring at?” he asked, chewing, stabbing a broccoli floret with his fork. “You haven’t even started eating yet.”

“I just really love you,” I said honestly. “I can’t help staring.”

“C’mon Oli,” he said, his face reddening, “You’re just trying to embarrass me.”

“I’m not!”

“Well, I love you too,” he said, his face still flushed. “I’m really lucky, you know? Who’d ever think a guy like you would be interested in me.”

Whoa—Mason was always surprising me. My initial assessment wasn’t completely fair to him. Mason had changed. In a way that was really significant.

He’d become more courageous.

He was brave enough to come out, to date me, to change his body in a way that wasn’t considered conventionally attractive. Even if all the things I loved about him from our youth were the same, I was fortunate enough to be able to love the man he was becoming as well.

I stood, going to refill his plate. He ate this serving just like the first, like if he didn’t get it all down fast enough someone might come and take it away. I sat down and watched, picking at the portion I’d set aside for myself. I wasn’t even hungry. I had no idea how he ate so much. He’d eat a roll every so often. I was able to refill his plate once more, and he ate that with the same amount of gusto. He got up the excess cheese that remained on the plate with the last roll.

“Fuck, that was just as good as I remembered.” He leaned back, placing his hands on his belly, rubbing it gently.

“Can—uh, can I do that?” I asked. He grinned.

“You don’t gotta ask,” he said, turning in the chair away from the table. He spread his legs, waiting for me. I went to the other side of the table as he pushed away from it. I knelt on the ground and rubbed his bloated gut, my hands traveling to his sides so I could squeeze the love handles pushed up by his underwear.

I moved toward his broad chest, squeezing the flesh there as well. Fuck, there was just so much of him. He was only wearing underwear, so I saw he was getting hard. I leaned forward, and began to kiss his belly, licking around his navel. His stomach tensed and relaxed.

“You like this gut?” he asked, his eyes closed.

“I love this gut,” I replied. His dick jumped in his underwear.

He stood, pushing me back slightly. I looked up from beneath his belly, and it made me think about that day at the bike racks a few months ago. I’d thought of him as a giant then, but compared to what I was looking at now, that version of Mason was minuscule.

Mason removed his dick from his boxers, and I leaned forward, resting my mouth at the base of his penis above his balls. I inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of his skin after a shower. I licked his shaft slowly, raising a hand to feel the heft of his belly above me. It didn’t need my support, as it was a solid sphere that hadn’t gotten large enough yet to droop. I thought about that phrasing and it sent me to another level of arousal. Large enough yet. Mason would likely be bigger than this soon. 300 pounds was the point where most guys would fight to get their waistlines in check, but I knew Mason didn’t care about that. He’d want more, and I wanted to help him.

I heard him moaning above me, one of his hands grabbing my hair, the other on the side of his gut. “Fuck, Oli,” he grunted. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

I stopped and stood up.

“Let’s go upstairs,” I said.

He agreed to head up to my room, but he couldn’t stop himself from kissing me ravenously first. He loved kissing, and I definitely wasn’t against it, but we hadn’t moved yet. Mason was still kissing me. On my neck. My forehead. My cheeks. He reached for his penis, but I stopped him.

“Upstairs,” I reiterated.

He nodded. His eyes had that glazed over look again. He followed me to the staircase, and as I ascended, I heard the stairs creaking loudly as he heavily padded up after me.

I wanted to fuck him with all I had. Each time I wanted more and more to have the best sex ever, and each time it was the best sex ever. I didn’t know if it was because we were getting better at it or the fact that our relationship was becoming so much more serious, but whatever it was, I hoped it continued.

He pulled off his boxers and leaned over my desk, his beefy forearms resting on top. His strong legs were spread apart, and his knees were slightly bent. In this position, his stomach seemed more noticeable. It hung down, round and bloated. I wanted to cradle it in my hands from behind.

I slid on a condom and carried the lube over to where he was waiting for me. I covered my dick in the slick substance before gently massaging his hole. “I’m ready,” he breathed. “I want it, Oliver.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I grabbed onto one of his love handles as I led my member inside of him. This ass was everything. I’m pretty sure he worked it out extra hard because he knew I loved it so much. Seeing my hands cradling his meaty cheeks was unreal. I didn’t have abnormally large hands, but he had such a massive ass, they looked almost feminine. I pushed my entire dick inside of him, thrusting back and forth more forcefully than I had before. He moaned and moaned—saying my name, telling me how good it felt. I felt the tingle I came to expect wash over me. I wasn’t sure if it was endorphins or what, but I was close to finishing and feeling amazing.

He took a sharp intake of breath, shooting cum across the front drawers of my desk. I pushed hard a few more times. I’d never felt so good before. I came loads, my legs turning to jelly for a few moments, almost causing me to lose my balance. “Aw, fuck,” I managed to get out, grabbing his hips gently.

We moved over to the bed and laid back. His belly moved up and down.

“That gets better and better,” he panted.

“I was thinking the same thing.” He rolled over on top of me. I loved that, the weight of his fat body pressing into me. It was incredible. He just laid there, kissing my face and neck until I had to tap out. He rolled back over, smiling.

The next thing I remember was waking up. We’d fallen asleep. It was now around eight. I tried to shake him awake.

“Mason,” I said. “Mason wake up.”

“Five more minutes,” he mumbled almost inaudibly.

“Mason,” I laughed, “You can’t stay here. Your parents will wonder where you are.”

“I don’t wanna get up,” he said into a pillow. “Let them wonder.”

“But our homework,” I said half-heartedly, also not in the mood to complete any schoolwork or send him on his way. I got up and checked my assignment book. Nothing was due tomorrow. I locked my door and got back in bed. He turned so I could place my head on his chest. He had his arm wrapped around me. I could have stayed like that forever.

Mason dozed back off almost immediately, but I laid awake thinking.

We only had a couple of months left in senior year. I’d gotten into my first-choice university and all of my safety schools, but there was definitely something that had me reconsidering going away to a four-year university. I didn’t really have any idea of what I wanted to major in. Nothing in the traditional sense was appealing to me. I didn’t want to be a teacher or a lawyer or a nurse.

Being with Mason reignited a passion that had laid dormant for years. I loved being in the kitchen and perfecting different recipes. Attending culinary school might be what I want to do post-graduation. It might have been youthful optimism, but I could see myself one day owning a restaurant.

Mason was going to the college thirty minutes from where we lived. I knew there was a program near him that was accredited and offered lots of opportunities for growth. I could feel myself getting excited by this idea. I hadn’t even been this excited opening up my college acceptance letters. This passion had to mean something. It just had to.

I could do it. I would do it! I’d always longed for a life outside of high school, and now I was starting to see that life more clearly. Even if the future was a mixed bag of possibilities, I knew one thing for certain.

I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Mason.

The End!

#gainer stories #gainer fiction #gainer story #fatfiction #gainerfic #gainerstory #gay feeder #gay feedee #weight gain

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chezzabellesworld · 2 months

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Heroin addiction hello,

this is me my name is heroin, I am more expensive than gold, but you will pay more for me. I’m like a diamond you want me you you wanna wear me you wanna wear me all over your body you wanna be me you wanna be inside my body, you want me to take the pain away like a hug like a hug used to do like a kiss like being in love used to, my name is Cherry and I’m a heroin addict I’m not some 12 stepper I kind of wish I was so I kind of wish I didn’t get the vibe that it was a cult , but maybe it is but who said all Colts are bad well this person right here was see. I’m also autistic I have a strong time of the past, I’ll tell you what this addiction has taken everything away from me. Let’s go back and let’s go back to 10 years ago. Roughly let’s go to the 3rd of December 2012 when I met this man who to this day, I can’t get out of my head see this man🕰️ introduced me to this awful awful thing, but at the same time he kept me away distance control. Yes I get it on the first night I met this man me off my feet. I was telling him about my situation ship and he was very compassionate. He was very understanding and it sort of Started there and went on the next five years, I was hooked line and sinker .

So the first night I met this man he was with my friend I met with, and I can still tell you everything about it that night it had to be one of the best nights of my life as I sit here now with tears in my eyes, five years later, I remembering things when I write, I wanted to be writer when I write I want to I remember And I started my life story again I’ve been with him for awhile see you inspired me be a bad person being with me and made me wanna be better and we had this little secret but let’s go back to the question because I’m very good at track no drugs happened it was just drinking Maybe smoking weed because I did back then but I was just talking it was like talking to someone I’d know my whole life and when you’re autistic this doesn’t happen often I hadn’t been diagnosed then but he had both bonded over the fact that we both had personality disorders and that we didn’t fit into society boxes, but now as I see it, I see it. I do but This man had a complete control over me. He had literally just had a baby with somebody who he’d been with for 10 years. He told me it was over, but yet they just had a baby a month prior premature, I didn’t want to take this woman’s man I didn’t want to take away this father, so I said don’t chase me, so on the days that he saw his child up at the hospital still, he would come back really quickly like he hadn’t even been there at all. I know that he had a premature baby. Yes I do I don’t know the whole truth of it I never will Until years though, when I spoke to his ex and I still don’t know the whole truth and why the fuck should she have to tell me anyway but all night he painted her is a villain same as I did with my ex yes as a personality disorder, everyone else is a bad guy You never the bad guy until it all comes tumbling down and you hate yourself and you wanna cut yourself or burn yourself so I trigger on this post but I have to say this I have to be honest with myself I must’ve liked it the fact that my family my family was born into because I don’t have kids that’s another sad part of this story is, I can’t Maybe it’s sick but there you go. They treat this man as an outcast just as much as I treated me as an outcast. I feel he wasn’t allowed to my sisters birthday party even though my sister was married to a literal word rapist still in prison for it now, and all the other sick things he did And my ex or right through this, of course I’ve noticed can also see crazy people who are crazy can always see crazy and others. Neurotypical are very selfish people. The first time I met him. He didn’t use her when he told me about it. apparently he told me about it and anyway I told him not to choose me over his child. Anyway he did we were texting all the time I was texting him. He was writing me love i never had this in my entire life. He literally swept me off my feet and the good thing that happened at the beginning of our relationship was that I went away for a week two days after we met Which made me want him more and vice versa now he probably did stuff I’ve heard he might of he’s married now to this girl. He slagged off for years and shagged. The sister who is 17 when we were together together what we broke up we didn’t properly broke up, but we broke up This is where the comes in we’re living in accommodated living for people who are not very well addicts mentally ill and so on. Anyway, many of the nights I would sneak into his room through the window or he sneak into mine and would lie bad faith, even if there was cameras. Oh he hasn’t asked your random stuff like this and I’ll be like it has. I’ve gone to bed, and obviously it was the most exciting time of my life. I was 23 years 22 years old and absolutely in love. Yes I know they got married at the age of 17 but it wasn’t part. Of course it was in my res autistic and everything was always more dramatic. The next time I’m bigger and better also I thought crazy so we end up getting kicked out of this facility I live there for a year I hadn’t really stayed there. I’d stayed in my mum, still even though she di

So things got out of hand that I’ve got made homeless I’m looking back now I thought it was so unfair and at the time I thought it was unfair. People who got made homeless shouldn’t have got made home as really people who this is all they had and the man I’m with now With living in the shed house with my ex there is four of the houses two of them staffed two of them not! so my partner was in a house without staff and then got put into the room next to me in the staff house which I was in me and my partner and I said maybe it was a distraction from my ex and his past, I will never know the full extent of.

So heroin heroin you ask how did it come into it well slowly that’s what I’ll say slowly he came back one day in a really really bad mood. This is before we got kicked out and started smoking on the bed. I’ve never been a situation I’ve been around hard before and it made me very uncomfortable, especially because I hadn’t touched them so I felt embarrassed and obliged this time I didn’t. I felt safe I felt safe with him. I just did so here it goes we move out and by this point before I go with him I will say I was addicted to sleeping pills on and off and opiates pill, but only pills so I sort of being there, but I wasn’t in the world of dealers drug addicts, horrible people debt, losing friends, and emotionally and because of the addiction. No nothing was that bad yet was destined for this maybe probably who knows I don’t I don’t even know so I will never forget the day I did it because it made life, so like it made sense for the first time in my life. It just made sense everything fit into place. Everything was like this is what it’s meant to be and this is how I should feel it wasn’t overwhelming how I thought it was meant to be, and this is how it traps you guys so don’t do it, it just felt like I had found the key to a door that had been locked 22 years and I had found that key. Obviously not a drug use. very narcissistic you really don’t think it’s gonna be you you just don’t you don’t think it’s going to be you in 1 million years even when you told me all these things via my ex when he told me this is what it’s like. I’m depressed now I can’t feel without it sex drive it fuck it fuck the way you connect with people you lose that connection and when you’re autistic anyway that is hard to have by the beginning it makes that all possible it makes you have emotion it makes you connect it makes you feel like you are invincible, and I always thought the word heroine became from the hero within, it kind of makes sense, wouldn’t it.

So the first time I used it, I smoked it we were living in one of his friends house in the spare bedroom that was freezing cold and the guy was addicted to it. The wife wasn’t they had two children. They had three children but the two children were in the room next to the dad, who is addicted really bad day and ill And this was the first place I used it they thought I was just normal. They didn’t think I touched so when I asked to try it one time when I got kicked off Valium which as you know it’s not very good I’ve got put on after a bad experience. Grape grape by my ex, and it was a short term thing, but I felt awful and I was hallucinating and I was in a really weird way and I also still appealed from my other exes house which led me to be really drooling and off my head and not remembering things in this house anyway, so that’s where I first tried it and for that year when we were living from house to house of people and Sophie spare rooms whatever, was the most exciting time of my life. It was an adventure that I’ve never been in. It was some kind of life experience that I needed for that time, but it led to this really scary time that I live in now so would I take it back? I’m not too sure i’ll lose all these memories, but then I won’t be attached to it so much either. Yeah I’d probably take it because the people I know now I really don’t wanna know I’m telling you something, there’s a lot of really dodgy men in this world who will try and proposition you for sex for money or they will try and do things to you the amount of times I’ve had men do things to me that dodgy sexually, I can’t even fathom it’s very sad, no one should have to go through that. made me feel so protected from the heroin all of it the relationship with that felt amazing, We lived from moment to moment we bonded so deeply our moon 🌙 signs very compatible. we shared everything let’s say so in the five years 2 1/2 of them are good 2 1/2 of them really bad but let’s say this was really severe case of grooming two that felt good though it felt really good because it came with the drugs and it came with the reward system that your brain creates of Doberman, but after a while your break your brain needs a pleasure and reward centre to survive. It’s like breathing it felt amazing. I felt so good every time I felt so good he he controlled my habits so I didn’t get too bad so I would get high probably off. Let’s say £10 worthb or £20 worth a day, maybe less let’s say less.

Eventually, my family obviously found out because I’m a very honest person and I like why did you say that I’ve noticed addicts are very dishonest people, scum of the Earth and I can’t stand them and they can’t stand me either. They do not like me and I think my ex knew this about them that they wouldn’t like me because he did all the messaging and calls to these people I didn’t know these people were so uptight about a text message, but they are absolutely ridiculous, I wasn’t used to this level of paranoia unless it was in your mind none of these people give a shit about you. I’m talking as 33-year-old me now and not 22-year-old man. It’s been over 10 years can you believe it because I can I mean it could be another lifetime ago and it could be yesterday 22-year-old didn’t know about this. Didn’t know this rule it’s uptight don’t do that and I honestly I hate these people honestly I’m miserable it’s not good for me I’m constantly sad,😔 yeah I mean the end of last year I going to join this astrology course and I have a teacher now at this woman I listen to for years on YouTube who I love I love her way of teaching listening to her on YouTube she was so good at going into it all. I looked up with Darkside zodiac and I found her but anyway I’m gonna tell her I lost friends in my opinion, so basically when I was younger, I was a bit of a goody-goody so that transition into hard-core addict who thought she was Courtney Love and Kurt Cobain with her boyfriend was obviously a massive shock to my friends and family I’m guessing constantly asking for money this day,

They didn’t realise this world opened up, a whole box of things that made me feel better, but a whole shit load of a basement full of crap that came with it. They won’t so yeah, I was a goody goody I didn’t really drink. I didn’t do this I didn’t do that, but I was fun. I was a happy shy girl And I would join in and have a laugh with my friends we would get the stone high part when I used to bring school in into school my sister’s part into my friend and he smoked I didn’t even smoke. Then I didn’t even feel the pressure to smoke. So yeah this was a massive personality change I guess so I always went from group group I was always a bit of a drifter.! point of sticking a needle in my arm, I wasn’t bad in fact I was the opposite of a bad arse you could say but as he has went on things happened and you meet people, my best friend who I be my best friend from the age of 10 made her be my best friend until she agreed. She was my best friend from me from me, her being sick of me, trying to ask it probably so I made my first love through her years later 18 years old and he was just schizophrenic and I even got warned off him which was probably the right idea cause this is where my first mental break happened a few years after that so this is why is slowly threatened to do law, and my personality was really changing, and I guess it was very scary for the people around me, so I’d have relationships with people friends whatever, but it always felt forced with this man. It never felt forced. It felt natural, and he would convince me that these people wanted to hurt me, or they weren’t good enough for me or they for I wasn’t good enough for them. He was very clever very very very clever he had me believing all of this shit and so it still this day is in and I can’t get rid of and I think anyone who’s been in a abusive relationship will feel this.

I have put a lot of pressure on my family. I feel like I am loving girl but I don’t have a family like the rest of them all my sisters have children. My brother is happy in a relationship. He is with someone for 11 years and he was very very happy even though he’s my older brother he sometimes feels like my younger brother because he’s so more innocent and I was innocent like he was too Very similar. In fact he was more of a rebel than I was saying I think I wanted to rebel so badly because I never had the opportunity. I mean the first guy I slept with gave me herpes if you want to talk about bad luck, but I thought it was a bad ass then because I was going out of a guy from Bangladesh who was a Muslim who had a restaurant well he didn��t have the restaurant who I was fucking in his restaurant And I thought I was cool. I was getting free curries and then I went to the next shop up the road and it was a Turkish guy who had a gorgeous green eyes. I was obsessed with being in love and not with English man. I thought English men were trash they never fancied me in school. I never had boyfriends, and I lost my virginity at 16.

so my friends now anyway, who I lost I’ve tried to bring back into my life but they’re not perfect either. I’m not saying they’re perfect but they weren’t drug Alex and we weren’t into people like that. They don’t know anything about people like that when I tell them about the things that have been degraded too, I’m in the last three years I didn’t leave my house because of a sexual assault kind of thing again And it’s very very scary so they couldn’t understand it or comprehend. They didn’t know why I was agitated. They didn’t know why I couldn’t meet up with them till sad times. They didn’t know why I didn’t pick up my phone they didn’t know why I called them at weird hours they didn’t understand it they didn’t understand why I wanted money they didn’t understand why I didn’t have this. They didn’t understand the people that knew I get it. I wish I didn’t even guys They see it though they see what happened, but then I did have one very abusive friend who is a Gemini and she would send me essays with you sometimes and this was before I got with Matt! she could still be very nasty I mean when I got her, she was like really rude about that and telling people I mean what kind of friend does that anyway so she comes and stay with me after a few years of me being with him and we have a nice time. Kind of have a good time, I’m still happy because I’m with him well I think I am anyway she comes down with fake note she was like can you use it cause she knew the olive. It was a bit backwards compared London I was like yeah probably be fine anyway one day we walked into town and I call her from upstairs from my exes flat and she looks horrified on that. Oh God here we go and she looked up annoyed anyway she’s there and a few days later, she’s all happy happy all on her phone and a good mood God. I wish I felt like her with making weed and I was being very paranoid and that’s when I stopped because I’d started smoking crack at this point because my ex couldn’t do heroin any more fuck from injecting and I hated cocaine. I just did it because he did it and he wanted me to owe him money. A lot of these drug addicts Connell is too so you owe the money I offend this. Well I’m too good for it and I know I’m so good for it and I wanna meet the other people who are not like this who are not con artists ! so she is high and she’s like don’t you feel so amazing I didn’t but I pretended yeah for great anyway she doodled all over this night and then she goes he go you can have it as she left to go home. I was like cheers can’t use it for shit now but thanks 🧑‍🎨.

Chapter 1

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munchmemes · 3 months

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HARI KONDABOLU: WARN YOUR RELATIVES

because i was a fool and deleted the original post + updated a bit

❛ how is 800 not significant? ❜ ❛ you have to weave through a capitalist obstacle course. ❜ ❛ hey, [NAME], why did you miss your flight? ❜ ❛ i just bought a 40 pound Toblerone for no reason. ❜ ❛ hey, you look nervous. why do you look so nervous? ❜ ❛ how do little bottles keep us safer? ❜ ❛ what i think is happening is that the government is in cahoots with the little bottle people. ❜ ❛ then you walk through another machine that swipes right to left like this and steals your thoughts. ❜ ❛ it’s a little suspicious. it’s a little SUSPICIOUS! ❜ ❛ yes, pay respect to your silent masters. ❜ ❛ what does that tell you!? what does that tell you!? ❜ ❛ that tells me you're on the internet too much. ❜ ❛ this is a depression beard. i’m depressed right now. ❜ ❛ i'm depressed right now. i am just a threat to myself. you have nothing to worry about. ❜ ❛ but if you’re there, then who’s - ❜ ❛ if you're the expert on being harassed, it's time you do the harassing, right? ❜ ❛ who brought the asshole with the microphone? ❜ ❛ why [is he] yelling so much? ❜ ❛ it was a delightful diminishment of my life's work. ❜ ❛ you need to keep it simple. elementary, my dear watson. elementary. ❜ ❛ look at you! look at what you look like! ❜ ❛ i look like a Muppet getting a PhD. ❜ ❛ i'm talking really loudly 'cause i want everyone to hear. ❜ ❛ Kid Rock, right? ❜ ❛ and also: WHAT THE FUCK? ❜ ❛ Kid Rock? you confused me with Kid Rock? ❜ ❛ maybe [they] saw the K and the I and ignored all the other letters. which is weird because that's not how reading works. ❜ ❛ that's the saddest shit in the world! ❜ ❛ but [they] felt bad. and i felt better so it was a win-win situation. ❜ ❛ well, you could’ve fooled me. ❜ ❛ i clearly fooled you! you were fooled! ❜ ❛ i don’t know what the fuck that means! ❜ ❛ i don’t know why you do this to us! ❜ ❛ well, now i know how to end the show, great. ❜ ❛ fucking snowflake. ❜ ❛ you don’t know me! i was an athlete! yes, chess is a sport! ❜ ❛ i’ve never heard of that technology. ❜ ❛ why are you blatantly lying to us? ❜ ❛ i figured it out. what they are doing is using the philosophy which is held within the song "it wasn't me" by Shaggy. ❜ ❛ things are so bad. they’re just really fucking awful. ❜ ❛ everything feels like the end of a Kurt Vonnegut novel. ❜ ❛ it's not good. it's just better than nothing, right? ❜ ❛ health insurance might as well be run by casinos at this point. ❜ ❛ it goes through the system, gets negotiated back and forth and you end up with far less than you want. ❜ ❛ what do we have now? like, echinacea, prayer and a hug. and [they're} trying to take the hug away. ❜ ❛ no, i don't know what those words mean. but i saw Rocky IV. ❜ ❛ my proposal wasn't about a redistribution of wealth. my healthcare proposal was about a redistribution of organs. ❜ ❛ after rich people die - i mean, after we kill them - ❜ ❛ we kill these rich people and we take the organs from them. ❜ ❛ and we'd feast. we’d eat a little meal i call justice. ❜ ❛ now, you might be thinking 'well, [NAME], that sounds so unreasonable.' yes! it is! ❜

❛ i can’t believe [they] won though. i mean, seriously?! ❜ ❛ i don't wanna put my values on you but i was always told not to do that. honestly, i wasn't even told. i just kind of knew. ❜ ❛ i love my mom, man. my mom is my favourite person. ❜ ❛ my mom is the reason why i’m funny. ❜ ❛ my dad is the reason i have anxiety. ❜ ❛ half of your genes were an obstacle to overcome. ❜ ❛ don’t have children. only stupid people have children. ❜ ❛ my mom was Grindr before there was Grindr. ❜ ❛ ultimately, that’s what this is about. change hearts and minds. ❜ ❛ homosexuality is not an open rebellion against God. do you know what an open rebellion against God is? NASA. ❜ ❛ not now, [NAME]! ❜ ❛ that joke was about divinity! about identity! it was about the nature of power! ❜ ❛ so, i was licking this girl’s asshole … ❜ ❛ man, i fucking hate firefighters. ❜ ❛ who hates firefighters? what are you, the fucking Human Torch? ❜ ❛ what is this, the 1980s? or the Midwest now? ❜ ❛ it’s too spicy. what is it? ❜ ❛ it’s water. ❜ ❛ it’s a lemon. ❜ ❛ can i put ketchup on it? i wanna put ketchup. i wanna put ketchup on everything! ❜ ❛ that is the glorious taste of something. you’re tasting something. ❜ ❛ the story is, the mango was very juicy. that's the whole story. ❜ ❛ can you tell me the mango story again? ❜ ❛ it’s because that mango is that GOOD! ❜ ❛ it’s a good mango. ❜ ❛ i fucking love mangoes!! ❜ ❛ i would start a mango podcast if i could. ❜ ❛ this is why you need to cut your high school friends from Facebook. ❜ ❛ why does the devil need an advocate? he's the devil! why does the prince of darkness need your help exactly? ❜ ❛ that’s interesting. have you thought about selling your soul to the devil? ❜ ❛ you know, if you'd like to live forever, you could sell your soul to the devil. ❜ ❛ that’s all the devil wants! ❜ ❛ and i said 'yes' even though i had no idea what this meant. ❜ ❛ oh, shit! acting! ❜ ❛ oh, shit! he’s pretending this is real or something. ❜ ❛ this shit is wild. ❜ ❛ and then … HE PUNCHED ME IN THE CHEST. ❜ ❛ this is acting? i hate acting. ❜ ❛ oh, it’s okay. i have that joke. ❜ ❛ if you think i’m talking about you, then yes, i’m definitely talking about you, yes. ❜ ❛ we're gonna snapchat the revolution. ❜ ❛ you can't ask me where i'm from and not know geography. ❜ ❛ where's your white guilt? ❜ ❛ i'm not looking for a lot of white guilt, just enough where you apologize even if you don't mean it. ❜ ❛ i was vexed. i was fuming. i had had it up to here. ❜ ❛ there's no time for symbolism! ❜ ❛ what’s the deal with that old dude? ❜

#ope this got so fucking long lmaooo.#but i rewatched and had to add a bunch of stuff okay.#rp meme #rp starters #sentence starters #roleplay meme #ask meme #tag memes

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bonesandthebees · 1 month

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Hi again Bee.

Thank you for lending an ear to listen even if I just kinda showed up. I really appreciate it. I've actually been reading through some of your other stories and they're very good (I adore the fae works!).

When it comes to Wilbur, I'm just. Very disappointed and upset. Of course I support Shubble and am glad she spoke out, it's very important and I'm glad that it's encouraged others to come forward with their own stories of abuse at the hands of large creators. At the same time though part of me wishes she hadn't said anything, so I could have continued as I was, in blissful ignorance, even if I feel really guilty for thinking like that.

It just saddens me that someone I looked up to so much ended up being this horrible person. It makes me worried that I too am bad, that somehow he has imprinted his awfulness unto me. I used to be horrible too. I like to think I've grown as a person, I was only a kid, but have I? Or was being drawn to Wilbur a sign? Like attracting like?

Y'know, I used to say that my hair style goals were how Wilbur's hair is, and recently I got a haircut. When I took a shower earlier it ended up floofing up in a similar way to his. I don't know how to feel about that. Maybe I should style it differently, even though I like the floof. I don't want to be even a little reminiscent of an abuser.

I am reminiscent of him though, in ways I can't change. I used to feel so seen by him, we're both song writers, and hypochondriacs, and I wanted to be him so badly I would cry. I would cry because he was everything I desperately craved to be as an insecure transmasc, an attractive guy with a beautiful voice and an amazing life. And now he's horrible, and probably always has been, and all of my memories of him are tainted.

I hate that I can't listen to Lovejoy anymore. It feels unfair to the other band members. It isn't their fault Wilbur is awful, and yet I'm taking away a source of their income. I know I'm taking away from Wilbur too, but he's only one person out of the group. Maybe that's just me giving an excuse so that I won't have to stop enjoying their music. It doesn't matter, I can't stomach listening to them anymore anyways.

I keep getting songs from YCGMA stuck in my head. It's like now that I can't listen to it anymore my brain has decided to fuck with me by making me listen to it anyways. I can't even justify listening to that album, that's just Wilbur's music. I was going to cover a song from that album for fun. Now I can't.

Is it bad I still find comfort in Wilbur as a character? C!Tommy is my favorite, but C!Wilbur is almost always a huge part of any C!Tommy story and I love C!Wilbur stories too. I know C! ≠ CC! but I just. It's complicated.

Idek why I'm this upset. I haven't been an avid watcher of anyone in the DSMP in at least over a year. If anything this whole thing has brought me back into the fandom more than I have been in ages. I feel bad about that, but also this situation has introduced me to people like Aimsey, whose content I'm seeing more of and I find myself enjoying.

I've also found more great DSMP fics lately in my quest to binge read them before the mass deletions start. Is it bad to find good things in a bad situation?

I'm sorry for the lack of put togetherness and the length of this ask. I promise I'm usually more coherent and to the point.

-Tech (just call me Tech like a name, "tech anon" feels weird heh)

hey tech, sorry for a bit of a late reply I've been busy the past few days

(sorry about the 'tech anon' thing, it's just a habit since that's how I refer to most of my anons. I'm going to still tag your ask as tech anon though just for my tagging system if that's okay)

I'm so glad you like the fae stories!! I'm still so proud of both of those looking back on them

anyway, yeah, I get that. I get the guilty wish that none of this had ever come out so you could just continue to go on in blissful ignorance. when someone learns something very upsetting, it's only natural to feel like you wish you never learned that. you don't need to feel guilty for that. you're not a bad person for your emotional reactions to things. your actions are what matters.

also, you are in no way a bad person because you were drawn to wilbur's content. the persona wilbur put on for the internet was not representative of who he actually was. you were drawn to the facade. an illusion of the person wilbur could've been, if he actually practiced the things he preached. you said you used to be a bad person, but you've changed. the fact that you are worried at all that you might still be bad shows a level of self-awareness and concern that wilbur apparently did not have. because wilbur was aware he was a bad person and treated the people around him terribly, but he didn't care to try and be better. as long as you're trying to be better, you're already leagues ahead of him.

also, regarding the hair, the floofy fringe is an incredibly common haircut. that is not exclusive to wilbur soot. you do not look like him if your hair does the floof similarly to his, it just makes you look like thousands of other dudes with fluffy fringe.

the day after shelby first streamed I had an MSR song stuck in my head and I hated it so much. it really sucks. you just have to try and drown it out with other music

it's not hypocritical at all to still find comfort in c!wilbur. I know it's complicated, and there's so much discussion I could get into as to why it's so complicated, but we can all separate the guy and the character in our heads. there's no reason to feel guilty about that. and there's also nothing bad about finding good in this situation. I think it's really sweet that you've found so many great fics in this time and I'm so glad you've been getting comfort from them. you're appreciating the authors hard work and that's a good thing! you don't need to feel bad about that

I hope you're doing okay tech

#ask #tech anon #wilbur situation

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howelljenkins · 4 months

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hi this is so random but i need to wax poetic. you have no obligation to reply to this. also i do not mean this in a parasocial way at ALL lmao i recognize that idk you trust. i first found ur blog in 2020 as a eighth grader in lockdown that was completely lost. i had lost my uncle to covid during that time and went from being a stellar student to receding into my shell and watching my grades tank. my shit home situation and undiagnosed depression led to me sinking into any form of escapism possible, mainly thru the form of books. i was super obsessed with perry johnson LMAO at the time and had all the time in the world to look into the fandom. this was around the time the unnamed author was just, like, violently and belligerently racist and scathing to any fans that questioned otherwise. being a tumblrina, i went to this site to see people comment on this, only to find you and ur mutuals were the only people openly discussing how he was just plain vile. i remember how sickened i felt seeing how you and other people of color were getting doxxed and threatened for pointing out what i thought was incredibly obvious. as a rlly sheltered person of color, this was the first time it struck me that the world was lying about how much they were actually willing to stick up for us, as before that i was just stupidly optimistic. anyways bc of that i started checking ur blog like EVERYDAY because of how much your words resonated with me. i was in complete awe of just how witty you were, and how you took no shit from people. granted this was a defense mechanism from crazy ass white fandom bitches but it was still weirdly inspiring. i still remember seeing u pull out the yale trap card so often and being like, oh shit this girl is something else lol thats hysterical. for the rest of high school i would keep up to date with u and specifically ur writing and poetry on promethes. kal i need you to realize your words actually rearranged my brain. the poems about your great grandfather, your mother, your pos friend, of being a horror, to love and to be loved is rest, everything EVERYTHING is etched into my memory. i really feel like i stumbled onto the modern fucking plato or something. anyways my critical thinking skills and love of poetry both are strongly influenced by you. i used to be the kind of person that hated everything and couldnt bear the thought of tolerating this world for another second. but your unyielding positivity and optimism, and insistence that kindness being the more difficult choice is inherently more radical really changed me. ik u didnt invent that or yadda yadda but u really made it seem real. im still learning to take each day slower, to breathe in a little deeper, but the beauty of so many things i previously dismissed is so obvious to me now. that post you made about you and ur mutuals educating a whole generation is so true lol. so just thank you. honestly thank u thank u thank you from the bottom of my heart. im a senior now who just submitted my yale application tonight and thought of you and im a little drunk right now so i think thats why i wrote this whole ass essay but just. like idk. u changed me and idek know you. i made my friend who got into princeton a trap card bc urs was so inspiring lol. anyways i truly hope you have a peaceful happy life and a good night. your soul is really such a beautiful thing and you deserve the world pls never settle for anything less

idc if it’s parasocial i love u and want the best for u and know u will go far and i almost doxxed myself by telling u the city i live in so u could look me up if you’re ever here lol. ik im a stranger or whatever but im proud of u idc ur like my adopted little sibling now. also @taumoeba yale card inspiring generations

#answered #anonymous #save #sometimes i think im like another pretentious tumblrite but then im like if i inspired this many intelligent capable kids #then i must be doing something right #love wins

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wowowwild · 3 months

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Heard you were looking for an excuse to post hot takes...

(rules)

Apollo doesn't like Phoenix and might straight up hate his ass send tweet.

At the start of aa4 Apollo tolerates this man at best. I don't necessarily defer to aa5 and aa6 canon bc the new writers came in and decided to wreck the place (yes there are things I like about them, no I do not think they are so horrible that I will never play them or that no one should ever play them, yes I am very upset they took everything aa4 set up and threw it out the window), however I do believe that Apollo could grow to understand what happened and become work friendly. This is ONLY if Phoenix apologizes well and actually walks him through it, but they both have 'I don't talk about myself or my feelings' disease so... Good luck. Oh, and if Phoenix actually did wait that long to tell him and Trucy they were siblings idk if their relationship could ever be repaired. Also I said work friendly bc let's be honest, the only reason he likes Trucy (and Athena if you're forcing me) is bc they are so outgoing they make up for his chronically introverted persona. (Of course after a certain point he's been through it with both of them and that creates a bond, but they wouldn't have gone through it together if Apollo was the one in charge of that.)

That being said I don't think he wants anything bad to happen to Phoenix. We see pretty quickly that Apollo is actually very sensitive to what is happening to other people. For example: when Trucy fake kidnaps herself he is whole ass bawling even though he pretty much doesn't know her. Not just an, oh man, this is awful, he is feeling and living and expressing those emotions with his whole self. Other example: He feels soooo bad that these people in Klavier's life suck. He devotes himself to 'pulling the darkness' out of a guy that by all accounts he doesn't really know or personally like (I think we have evidence that Apollo respects Klavier's ethics, even if his personality is a little glimmerous.) So I think if anything happened to Phoenix or it seemed like something was going to happen to him, Apollo would do everything he could about it. That doesn't mean he likes the guy.

And like, I work retail. I work with a ton of people that in any other situation I would never speak to, and yet I can still get excited for them and strike up in depth conversations with them while still going home and thinking 'Wow, that lady sucks'. Apollo is not going to be openly hostile or anything, he's just not going to give a whole lot in terms of a personal relationship.

Also I think Phoenix genuinely likes Apollo and I think he knows he likes Apollo a lot more than Apollo likes him. I think this would make him sad but he wouldn't try to force anything. And I think Phoenix genuinely feels bad and if there had been any other way forward he would have taken it but there wasn't and he didn't and he has accepted that this is part of the consequences of that.

#i don't even have a xitter #ace's ask #I like Phoenix but Apollo would not #apollo justice #phoenix wright #I'm so nervous about potential 'how dare you say we piss on the poor' comments tbh #this is an exercise in overcoming anxiety #ace attorney

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farfaras · 11 months

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Steddie week. Day 4: Familiar / Hurt/Comfort. 1.8k words. Ao3 link.

@steddie-week

Steve was having a bad day. Or really, a bad week. He didn’t know when was the last time he got a full night of sleep. This week’s customers from family video were somehow the worst he’s had the pleasure to meet. And he had no idea what he was doing with his life.

It’s always the same thing, after they save the world. He’s left with a feeling of uncertainty and fear. He knew that it’s over, for good now. And that thought shouldn’t be as terrifying as it is.

He was trying to cook before he started to divagate. He got distracted and somehow he managed to burn his hand. Shit.

“Ah! Fuck.” He went to the sink and put his hand under the spray of cold water.

He felt tears coming. It wasn’t even because it hurt that bad. He always had a somewhat meltdown after every brush with the upside down. It’s just, everything felt like too much. And at the same time like nothing. He didn’t know how to fix it, he sometimes thought that he needed fixing.

“Not now, goddamn it.” He just wanted to have dinner and go to bed early. He was just so exhausted. And he was full on, crying now.

He heard the doorbell ring. It probably wasn’t anything important.

It ringed again. And the person outside started knocking too. Steve didn’t really have the fight in him today to try and school his appearance. Whoever was on the other side would have to deal with it.

He went and opened the door to find Eddie. His expression turned from lightheartedness to concern in record time. “Stevie? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He stepped inside and closed the door. Steve just shrugged and all but collapsed on his chest. Words wouldn’t come out.

Eddie guided them to the couch, they sat down without breaking their hug. Eddie was tracing comforting circles on his back.

Their friendship was one of the best things that could’ve come from the terrible circumstances they went through.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Eddie gently asked.

Steve took a deep breath. “It’s just been a rough week I guess.” He pulled back so he could look at Eddie. Eddie nodded and urged him to continue. “The nightmares have been bad, I haven’t been sleeping much. Customers have been awful, my boss hates me. I don’t know why I’ve also been so caught up in how I have no idea what I’m doing with my life. And I can’t even make dinner without burning myself now!” That was a lot, Steve knew. But even if he and Eddie haven’t been friends for a long time, he somehow felt safe enough to trust him with anything.

“You- Sweetheart…” Eddie trailed off and took his hand to inspect the damage. “I get that. We don’t have to have all the answers right now, you know. And for whatever it counts, I’m always here for you.”

Steve nodded. He knew Eddie got it, got him. Considering how different they were, they were also similar in some ways.

“It doesn’t look that bad but, does it hurt?” Eddie asked, referring to his hand.

“It’s fine. I’ll manage.” Steve wiped his almost dried tears with his free hand.

“I could always kiss it better?” Eddie had mischief all over his face, he wiggled his eyebrows. Steve laughed.

No one had offered to do that since… wait a minute. The situation felt so eerily familiar. He suddenly had a memory rush forward.

“Ouch!” Steve cried. He just wanted to get on the top of the tree so he could feel like a giant. He didn’t take into account that he’s never actually climbed a tree before in his 7 years of age. At least he didn’t fall from a higher point.

He scraped his hand when he tried to hold on to a branch. It broke and he fell on his knees. He had scratches all over them now. They were lightly bleeding.

There was a small lake around somewhere and Steve once heard that when you get cuts or stuff like that you’re supposed to clean them, so he ran to the lake.

When he arrived he was met with another boy. He looked around his age. The boy had brown curly hair, his back was turned to Steve so he had no idea who he was yet. It looked like the boy was painting some rocks by the lake. Steve’s never seen someone doing that before.

Steve slowly approached him. When he was near the boy’s field of vision he looked up. His eyes widened. “Are you okay?!” The boy asked, worried. Steve didn’t know him. He’s never seen him before.

“Uh. Yes?” It came out like a question, even if that wasn’t Steve’s intention. He was more preoccupied by being taken aback because of how pretty the boy was. His eyes were huge, and so brown. Steve’s eyes were brown too but they were nowhere as beautiful as his. Steve wanted to memorize his face and then try to draw it.

The boy stood up and made his way to Steve. “But you’re bleeding! Does it hurt so much?”

Steve could recognize a small throbbing on his injuries, in the back of his mind. They were long forgotten though. “Not that bad.” Steve still was curious as to why he’s never seen him before. “Why didn’t I see you in school?” He pointed to the direction he thought the school was.

The boy followed his hand with his gaze. “You scraped your hand too!” He took his hand and pulled it so he could look at it closer. Steve’s heart suddenly beat a little faster.

“You- uh- you didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh! Right.” He dropped Steve’s hand. Boo. “I’m not from here! My mom brought me to spend the summer with my uncle.” He explained. That disappointed Steve but at least they could play during this summer. “But that’s not important! Come here.” The boy dragged him to the lake and helped him clean his wounds. He cupped some water on his hands and poured what he could on Steve’s knees. Steve just dunked his hand in the water. The cold was soothing. “What happened?”

“Oh. I fell from a tree.” Steve told him.

“Really?” He stood back up when he finished what he was doing. “That’s cool! What were you doing up there?”

“I wanted to feel like a giant!”

The boy giggled. Steve felt giddy from making that happen. “Awesome! Giants are so cool! Kinda scary, but cool!”

Steve just nodded.

The boy lit up, it looked like he had an idea. “Hey! I just remembered.” He dug for something in his pockets. “My uncle always gives me bandaids to carry around because he says I’m ‘prone to accidents’ whatever that word means.” He used air quotes to make his point before going back in to dig for those bandaids. “Ah ha!” He held them proudly.

He kneeled in front of Steve and started to put them on his knees. When he looked satisfied with his work he straightened back up. “Sorry, I don’t have enough for your hand too.”

“No! That’s okay! Thank you.” Steve smiled at him.

“I could always kiss it better! My uncle does that for me too, sometimes.” The boy offered. Steve didn’t know what to say so he just nodded.

The boy took his hand and brought it close to his face. Steve’s heart skipped a beat. They locked eyes. The boy placed a kiss right beside his scrape on his palm, not really touching it. Then he turned his hand and placed another kiss on the back of his hand. That seemed unnecessary but Steve wasn’t about to complain. He dropped it and the moment was over.

The rest of the afternoon they spend it together, coming up with different games. They played pretend all they wanted to. Until the time came to go to their separate homes, the sun was setting. They said goodbye and it wasn’t until Steve was back home that he realized he never even asked what his name was!

What was wrong with him? Was he really so distracted by his beautiful smile and eyes and laugh, that he forgot such a big thing?

Steve hoped he could see him again.

Holy shit. That was Eddie. The same eyes. The same hair. The same smile. The same fucking phrase again. The same boy from back then, it makes sense. By the time Eddie moved to Hawkins, Steve must’ve already forgotten about that exchange.

Fuck. That was Eddie! His first crush was Eddie? Oh my god, his first crush was Eddie. No wonder Steve developed feelings all over again in such a short amount of time.

“You said that back then, too.” Steve really hoped Eddie remembered. He didn’t know why but that felt important (he did know).

“What are you-?” Eddie started. He looked down at their hands, he’s still holding Steve’s. He looked back up, he seemed to come to a realization. “You- you’re the giant wannabe kid?” He did remember.

Steve lets out a joyous laugh. “Yeah. And you’re the bandaid savior.”

Eddie shook his head in disbelief. “That’s crazy. That was one of the most fun days I had in this hell of a town.”

“I beat myself up for not asking for your name for days.” Steve confessed. He wasn’t sure how much that revealed.

“That so?”

“Yeah, it’s kinda funny but you… um” Steve had to say it, he might never find any other opportunity. “You were kinda my first ever crush.”

Eddie didn’t respond. Steve’s stomach dropped. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. He started to take his hand back but Eddie didn’t let him.

He guided Steve’s hand to his face and placed a kiss on it. Just like all those years ago.

Eddie dropped his hand to cradle his face. “When I moved to Hawkins and started middle school here, you were my first crush too. But I-“ he paused and took a big breath. “I kind of never stopped.” Steve could see how nervous Eddie was. It was adorable.

Steve smiled at him. “Good.” He leaned in. “Because mine is back, I think stronger than ever.”

They met each other for a gentle kiss. Steve couldn’t imagine how he got here, but he is so glad he’s here, kissing Eddie Munson. If 7 year old Steve could look at him now.

When they parted, they didn’t let go of each other. Instead they just pulled each other close in a bone crushing hug.

“I got you, sweetheart.” Eddie murmured and kissed his temple. Steve felt so incredibly warm. “Not sure how, but we can get through anything.”

“I got you too, Ed.” Steve closed his eyes. Happy. “And yeah. I know.”

And indescribable feeling washed over him. Even if Steve had never felt it before, he knew what it was.

They were home.

#yknow my pst self will wait until the last minute #steddieweek2023 #steddieweekprompts #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #mer writes sometimes #ficlet #I’m a sucker for baby Eddie and Steve interactions #hurt/comfort

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ironborealis · 1 year

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So this post appeared on my feed because I was dumb and said I was interested in things tagged "Severus Snape" because I forget how things work sometimes.

I gave them a long response but I think it's a banger so I've cleaned it up to share.

To preface, I'll say that I was still in school when the books were starting to come out, and so I was in school during the period the books are set. I wasn't in the UK and can't speak to specifics there, but my own.

Your question feels really disingenuous when you tag it #james potter supremacy but I am a fool and going to answer you honestly anyway.

I liked Snape the moment it was revealed in the first book that he wasn't the villain -- because it showed him as someone who gave no fucks about how others saw him. I had been violently bullied for years at that point, but was told that I needed to stop letting it hurt me or to stop acting in ways to invite the abuse. All I internalized was that it was my fault and I needed to change myself so that they'd like me. So meeting a character who just stopped giving a fuck about other people's opinions was fascinating.

The text doesn't, I think, intend for you to read Snape's behavior as incredibly abusive. A lot of his behavior to the students wouldn't have been seen as abnormal when I was in school. Unkind but within tolerance. He was a prick and the assumption with teachers like that was that A) don't take it personally B) If you can't do A then stay off their radar and count the minutes until class is over. I'm hoping that the sudden uproar about how abusive Snape is now is a sign that school culture has changed. Because you're right, it's awful, and shouldn't happen. But that's now, and not then. Then it was acceptable if not exactly encouraged behavior.

For me, Snape's teaching style would have been within normal limits and at least it wasn't false advertising. I saw popular "kind" teachers bully disabled students, throw coffee mugs, and choke slam 9 year olds. Those teachers were never punished. I preferred the hard asses who didn't pretend, but would restrain themselves to only demoralizing you with words. They never went half so far as those much beloved teachers. These were in schools that had long banned corporal punishment by teachers, by the way.

Plus, Snape's bullying is written in such a way that is so over the top and dramatic it's hard for me to believe that there's any real intent as he never follows through with most of his threats. He's amusing himself, which is fucked up, yes, but so is his situation being forced to teach children (a job he hates) by daylight and fighting a war as a spy by moonlight (a job he also hates).

When book 5 revealed his own history of being bullied the kinship I felt for him just kinda clicked. Game knew game, even if I didn't know it then.

What impressed me about Snape is that he made a terrible decision of joining the DE, he knows it, he regrets it, and most importantly he does something about it. He sabotages them and when he can't do that he tries to reduce harm as much as possible.

He joins a side lead by people who are responsible for his own traumas, who are unrepentant about their roles in it but still expect him to get over it. Snape isn't interested in pretending everything is fine with his allies when everything isn't fine and that's such a challenging and brave stance to take.

Because if I were in his shoes, my first instinct would be to swallow all my anger and stuff it in well inside me and pretend it doesn't exist so that I could be seen as agreeable and the bigger person. I know I'm not alone in that. However, that instinct has caused me so much damage that I will spend the rest of my life fighting that instinct tooth and nail.m, because what it means is that you are minimizing yourself and your safety in order to make other people comfortable.

Snape might have the right idea (but poor execution) when it comes to some people, but he falters when it comes to Lily. I was so disappointed with the reveal that Lily was his primary motivation, even if it's grown on me. He's so damned loyal to someone who wasn't even a great friend to him by the end. Lily smiles before she intercedes in SWM, which to me signaled that the whole scene was just a way for James to pull Lily's metaphorical pigtail (Snape) in their courtship and if I were the pigtail I'd be pissed too. It doesn't justify but it adds context for why he might want to hurt her then.

And Snape spends the rest of his life regretting his moments of weakness and giving his life to prevent Voldemort from winning, for a friend who failed him pretty spectacularly.

Most people don't do that -- they regret and then they try to get on with their lives. They don't want to talk about it. We're STILL finding guards from WWII concentration camps hiding out in suburbs after all. Snape doesn't choose that and that's brave as hell.

Snape's "redemption" is a hot debate, but I don't know that redemption is even his goal. He's just trying to do what's right. If he were really searching for redemption then certainly I think he'd have sought a more friendly relationship with Harry, if only on the side.

Which brings me back to how can you claim "James Potter Supremacy" when he's only seen in SWM, where he's a cruel bully to someone minding their own business (SWM takes place after the Shack per canon), and we only have the testimony of Sirius and Remus, a decade after his death, to say that he "got better" -- which meant not publicly tormenting Snape, but doing it in private. We never get to see this better version of James.

Sirius and Remus are highly motivated to put James in the best light possible to his orphaned son, which is natural, but it doesn't make it gospel truth. I think he may have become a better person with time, because that typically happens, and certainly he had the capacity for great kindness (befriending Remus) which makes his decisions to be so cruel even more painful. But he died and we never get to see any of him in canon except him being a complete asshole.

So why would you question how people can like Snape when there is so much more canonical evidence that Snape was a good person with serious faults than there is for James being anything other than a school bully who died young?

#severus snape #pro snape #professor severus snape #pro severus snape #The irony of All the Young Dudes written by #David Bowie #A perennial outsider to that point #Who's gender non-conformity was threatening to the establishment #Becoming so strongly associated with a set of characters who are emblematic OF the establishment #To the point that the Google tells me about the BOOK (their word) before the song #When the FANFIC demonizes the canonically gender nonconforming character.#Awful #flames on the side of my face #i don't want to live on this planet anymore

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fellow-queer-birdguy · 1 month

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Really long ramble about ahead!! feel free to read! (also there's a TLDR at the end)

The reason why I feel like I can't get a "better" mobility aid (I really want forearm crutches since the cane doesn't feel like it's enough stability and support anymore) is because I'm scared of walking "too comfortably". Now, I'm pretty sure there is no such thing as walking "too comfortably", there's no reason for me to feel bad about wanting to walk without pain, but I do anyway?

I mainly think this thought process comes from internalised ableism (example; "that person is using a mobility aid! they are being lazy!")and it makes it really hard for me to even use my cane because it makes me feel like I'm a faker and I'm just "lazy". None of which is true. I just want to walk so that I'm not in pain!

And every time I remember people usually aren't in pain when they walk I realise just how much I need support and help. The fact that the majority of people around me see walking as an usual and worry-free activity while every time I have to go somewhere I worry about if I'll be in pain and how badly it's going to affect my week. It's very exhausting (And this is not even mentioning all the other symptoms I have).

I really miss when, a few years ago, I was able to run around and walk long distances. heck, I was even in a long distance jogging class in school. And now I can't really do that. It feels really weird, almost like grief. And I wish people would take me more seriously when I say stuff, but also, I have such a hard time understanding that what I am experiencing is not normal and that causes me to not take myself seriously, and I guess that also fuels the internalised ableism I'm dealing with.

I look at people around me with envy and awe. Everything they do is easy for them, their not in pain all the time and when they do have pain a simple pain killer helps. It all just feels so unfair.

I do need help and support from the people in my life, but I'm just so scared I'll be looked at differently or seen as weak. Or that they don't understand how much this unexplained disability is affecting my life. I personally don't think I even fully understand.

But I do understand that I need to speak up and explain to doctors what I'm dealing with so that they can help me. I'm just so scared, I'm not used to being listened to. I'm not even going to talk about how hard it is when I try to tell anything to my mom.

And then it gets even more complex when I think about it just going away and then I'll be "back to normal". At this point I'm so used to being in pain that the thought of not being is scary. I hope it makes sense. I do hate being in pain, but it's my every day life. I don't think there is a "magic solution" to it, but some people around me seem to think that. And I hate being wrong, so if one of the solutions would actually "cure" me I would feel so bad for not doing it earlier. I have no idea if there's a word for this experience but I have a feeling it's related to my autism.

But yeah, I general I just feel so much about my physical wellbeing right now, since I'm soon turning 18 and then everything will start to cost money. Also I've been thinking about this years pride event, I've been worrying since last year because we had to stand for almost 3 hours last year. I could still manage then, but I don't know if I could manage now.

I am really thankful for the community here on Tumblr for being so supportive and feeling like a home.

TLDR; I feel like I can't walk pain free or get a "better" mobility aid because of internalised ableism. Also I grief all the things I can't do anymore and how unfair that feels. And I'm aware of how badly I need to tell my doctors about everything. also I'm afraid of being "magically healed" even though I know it's probably not possible at this point and I'm so used to my pain. I'm soon turning 18 and I don't know how bad or good my situation is going to be by then. AKA too much stuff is happening in my life right now.

I think I've rambled enough now, thanks for reading.

#disabled #chronic pain #chronic illness #mobility aid user #joint pain #cane user #crutch user #mobility aid #pots?#fibromyalgia?#unknown chronic illness #physically disabled #actually disabled #hypermobility #chronically ill #pain log📋#ramble #rant

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astro-menace · 1 year

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Zodiac signs as Marina Diamandis qoutes

Applies to Rising,Sun,Moon,Mars,Mercury, Venus

Gemini ♊️ : I'm interested in how identity is transient. How do we know who we really are, when different situations and environments dictate how we behave? I'm interested in the role we all play. We spend our whole lives becoming ourselves when we are born as no one else.

Virgo ♍️ : I am absolutely not a roll-on-stage kind of girl! I would be totally freaked out if I didn't warm up, and I don't know how other singers do it.

Aquarius ♒️ : I think celebrity culture and sexuality in pop music is really important, but I want there to be an alternative for people.

Capricorn ♑️ : I’m a very, very disciplined person.

Scorpio ♏️ : Everyone gets dumped and everyone gets hurt and there’s karma to love in regards to what you’ve done to other people.

Taurus ♉️ : I think I actually did write about love because I kind of had a fear of it, like we all do, nobody wants to get hurt.

Aries ♈️ : Love is really my nemesis. I never really allowed myself to indulge in such basic things because I was so motivated and thought that if I did I wouldn’t succeed.

Libra ♎️ : Not everyone is out screw you over Maybe, just maybe they just wanna get to know ya.

Pisces ♓️ : I want the world to go away .

Leo ♌️ : What I hate is that not many people admit to having a big ego, but you have to and there's nothing wrong with it.

Cancer ♋️ : When I see a beautiful woman, I think, 'Aw, her life must be amazing.' Everyone does it. That's human nature to believe that beauty is everything.

Sagittarius ♐️ : I think each human being wants to make their mark on the world in whatever way they can, and maybe everyone has a slight egomaniac inside of them.