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a-mint-bear · 6 months ago

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Her Favorite Employee

Female Yandere x Female Reader

You're the personal assistant of your company's CEO. She's controlling, married to her job, and runs you ragged. But you're good at your job, and she loves to let you know how much she appreciates you.

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"What's on my schedule for this afternoon?"

A quick recap of what was on the docket for that day as you dropped off her coffee order. Soon she’d be in back to back meetings while you handled her calls and made the rounds to the various teams she oversaw. Same as most mornings.

“Wonderful. Make sure to have the Hillmore reports on my desk by three, and send a nice gift basket to Reynolds in Sales. His wife just had twins.”

You told her the reports would be done before her lunch with R&D, and you’d already sent a basket with her name on it two days ago which included a gift certificate to a local spa for the new mother.

“I knew you’d be on it.” She smiled into her coffee. “Much obliged, love.”

You nodded behind your tablet, trying not to be obvious about your lack of eye contact. It was torture when she called you that.

It was a lot, working under her. But at the same time, it was oddly… fulfilling. She gave you so many responsibilities and trusted, more expected, you to come through. Every time.

Not even six months ago you'd been just another employee. It was a decent job; Good pay and benefits, and the work was easy enough, the hours sucked sometimes but it wasn't like you had a rich social life it was cutting into.

You didn’t make any friends in the office, you weren’t sure any of your coworkers even knew your name. To them, you were just “that one girl who refills the paper in the copier”. Because someone has to, and you work with a bunch of animals who think that the paper just magically replenishes itself. Now you were “The Boss’ secretary”, that was at least more respectable? Maybe?

But before you were her assistant, you were just her “favorite employee”. And that was more trouble than it was worth.

She didn’t care much for being called by her surname like most of the superiors in the company, but no one was brave enough to call her by her given name. So most in the company just called her Boss or Miss. And she liked it that way. You were pretty sure she just liked how intimidating it made her seem.

She was always around. At first, you thought it might've been because she was your boss. She was probably just trying to see if you were any good at your job, maybe looking for a reason to fire you if she noticed anything off. But ever since you were hired, it just kept happening. Your first days in the office quickly turned into weeks and she was still circling you for seemingly no reason.

You could excuse it to yourself, maybe she was the micromanaging type. But her attention always seemed to be on you, almost exclusively, more than anyone else in the office. And it was… intimidating. For a couple of reasons.

She seemed to love… picking on you, if you could call it that. Any extra projects she needed done? You were her first choice. Fixing the new guy's botched paperwork before a big deadline? You were on it, of course. Overtime? Yup, you. It would be more annoying if you weren't getting paid really well. But you always got it all done, ahead of schedule, without any complaints.

And if she wasn't being oddly petty, she was being… oddly flirty.

Sitting on the edge of her desk when she talked quarterly reports over with you. Leaning a little too close when she took something off your desk. Her fingers brushed yours when you handed her things. A bump to your arm with hers here, a touch to your shoulder there… Every time you wondered if you were just imagining things, it happened again. She never did anything overtly inappropriate or pushed past any sign you were uncomfortable, but the truth was… you weren’t. It was a bit much to have this beautiful woman pay so much attention to you, but you weren’t going to lie, it wasn’t… the worst thing in the world.

It contrasted hard with her usual put-together image, prim and proper and out of reach from the mere mortals in the office. But as far as you’d noticed, she didn’t act this way in front of anyone else in the office. And you didn’t know what to do with that information.

You weren’t sure if any of it was on purpose, or if she was just flirtatious by nature. It was always hard to tell with women, as a woman. Was she into you? Was she even attracted to women?? Or did she get her jollies by flustering the office loner?

She stayed just as late as you most nights, if not longer. And checked up on you. And chatted with you when she had a minute. You just didn't get why. You weren't anyone special. And she was so…

She was gorgeous, always so well put-together and stunning. You'd never met a woman who was so beautiful it made you nervous, like a dumb teenager. But it couldn't outweigh how much she got on your nerves with how she was always in your business, so the conflicting emotions just made for long, exhausting workdays.

If she knew you were annoyed with her, she never let it show. But it wasn't long before you realized just why she'd been watching you so closely.

One day, all the creeping around and odd attention she was paying you started to make sense. The Boss Lady called you into a meeting with herself and the head of H.R. and just…

Offered you a promotion. Just like that.

"I've been really impressed by your work ethic.” She was being so poised and professional, every word out of her mouth sounded so assured, even though you were very much a deer in the headlights at the moment. “I need someone with a work/life balance that matches my own and can work with my schedule to be my personal Executive Assistant. Your hours would increase, but there will be a significant pay raise and company benefits.”

And boy, what a significant pay raise it was. You'd have to be a complete idiot to turn it down. It meant more responsibilities in the company and you'd be expected to dress up a bit more for appearance's sake, but a few suit jackets and skirts with nice dress shoes would be more in your price range now. It would mean spending A LOT more time with her though, and you weren't sure if your weak heart could take the damn near constant presence of this woman.

But maybe, SOMEHOW, it really was all in your head. Maybe the proximity to her while she was vetting you for the position just had you all mixed up?

Maybe the money was making you too eager to accept, but accept you did.

And it was normal, or as normal as things could be around that place, at least for a little while.

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You were scheduling some meetings for her and logging them in her calendar when another co-worker knocked on your office door.

“Oh hey, do you have a minute?”

You recognized them… You didn’t remember their full name but everyone called them Jay.

They started a few months after you did, and they seemed nice enough. Right now they looked a little out of sorts, which was unusual. They were usually the cool, flirty, sporty type who was good friends with everyone, not an awkward bone in their body. The two of you weren’t friends or anything, but there was no bad blood between the two of you.

You asked them what was up, and it took them a minute before finally spitting it out.

“Okay, so… totally tell me to screw off if I’m barkin’ up the wrong tree here.” It was kind of funny seeing them so nervous. “Would you wanna… go to dinner tomorrow?”

Without thinking, you pulled up your planner, asking if there’d been an email you’d missed about some team-building thing. But they just laughed.

“No, I meant… Just you and me.”

You froze, wondering if you had heard right. You cut to the chase, asking if they meant like a date?

“We don’t have to call it a date, if you don’t want to!” They held up their hands defensively, like you were someone they were worried about offending with this. You wondered how people saw you around here for them to be so nervous. Or maybe they just… really liked you that much. “But… yeah. I wanted to ask you out.”

You gave it a moment to sink in.

You weren’t automatically thinking of saying no. Did that mean you wanted to say yes? They were tall and attractive, in a “soft beanpole with a cute haircut” kind of way. They looked good in their usual button up with the rolled-up sleeves, and pulled the look off better than half the people around the office. The opposite of your very feminine boss. Looks-wise they were nothing alike, but both had the same confident, assertive air about them. Maybe that was appealing to you, and Jay was just as much your type as the Boss was.

You scolded yourself. Why were you thinking about her? Now?

At the end of the day, you didn’t see any reason to say no. It could be a nice time. This stupid not-a-crush you had on your boss was never going to go anywhere, so why not try and see someone who went out of their way to ask you out? If it didn’t work out, you would handle it like an adult.

Jay looked nervous that you’d been thinking for so long. You told them you had a pretty packed schedule, but if you could get a night off, it would be nice to have dinner with them tomorrow. You half-jokingly told them that if it went well, you’d slap the “date” label on it. Their cheeks went a bit red, but they were grinning ear to ear.

“Cool!” They laughed, a bit too loud before catching themself, playing it cool. “I mean uh… That sounds good. Let me know.”

They quickly left, muttering to themself to “keep it together”, probably thinking you couldn’t hear. It was kind of cute, in a weird way. Maybe they were shyer than you’d originally thought.

But now came the hard part. Getting a night off.

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“No, that won't do.” She didn’t even look up from her computer.

That’s all she had to say to your request. At first, you felt disappointed but you were ready to just turn around and leave, accepting it. But this was just... bothering you. You piped up, trying to reason with her. Her schedule was free tomorrow night and you were a week ahead on all the reports she’d put you in charge of. You hadn’t had a night off in a few weeks.

And you’d never complained. You’d even kind of liked the challenge, the effort you put into your work gave you purpose. Working as her personal assistant was the most rewarding job you’d ever had. And you even told her so.

So why?

She sighed, she seemed almost… annoyed?

“I heard some chatter in the hall this afternoon.” She just kept typing away. “Someone was asking about restaurant recommendations for a big date. They seemed excited about having finally asked out the CEO’s assistant. And that they were so surprised she’d said yes.”

So she knew? She knew you were asking for a night off for a date? What did that have to do with anything? But you kept quiet for the moment, wondering where she was going with this.

“Maybe it’s my fault.” she sighed, sitting back in her plush office chair. “I was too…generous. I wanted to make you feel comfortable working for me so I let you do what you wanted. I can admit to my mistakes.”

Generous? By working you like a dog day in and day out? By keeping you from doing something as simple as going on a date with someone who was interested in you?

You asked her why. Why was she so against you having a life? Why was she doing this?

You knew it was a bad-no, a super bad idea to be mouthing off to your boss. Possibly career-ending. But you’d done so much for her, every day for months on end and never letting her down no matter how difficult or grueling the task. And she couldn’t even give you this one night off?

You needed a reason.

“Oh, it’s quite simple.” She smiled her usual stunning smile. But you weren’t going to let it get to you this time. No ma’am. But as she got up from her desk, coming around to stand too damn close, you felt your resolve slipping.

“From the day you started working here, I knew I wanted to keep you by my side.”

As an employee, right?

. . .

Right??

“You were… quite the sight.” she sighed, a dreamy smile as she looked at you from beneath her long, dark lashes. “So put off by everyone. Always on your own. Uninterested. Unengaged. Unmotivated. At first I just wanted to frazzle you, make you lighten up a bit. You seemed so isolated, I figured a strong personality like mine would rub you the wrong way. But you had such an… interesting reaction.”

The both of you knew what she meant. The blushing, the nervous energy, all the times you tried so hard to act like you weren’t bothered by her attention. And most likely failed miserably.

“I saw how hard you worked. I could see your untapped potential. You were exactly what I needed. I knew I had to make you mine.”

You told her you didn’t understand. And maybe that was a lie. You couldn’t stop your thoughts from racing. She… wasn’t talking about work anymore, was she?

“I made you my assistant. You’re by my side, day in and day out. And… I thought that would be enough to satisfy this feeling. This... need. But it just wasn’t. And when I heard someone had taken an interest in you, I found myself quite…”

The intensity in her eyes felt so suffocating.

”Infuriated.”

You couldn't help but flinch when she laid her hands flat on your chest, just below your collar bone. Her touch burned itself into you, but you couldn’t take your eyes off hers. It felt like she’d devour you if you did.

“No one…” She grabbed you by your collar and yanked you closer, whispering in your ear. You hated the shiver it sent up your spine. “No one will ever take you away from me. Not another company. Not another department. And certainly not some little upstart from Sales.”

… She wasn’t talking about work anymore.

“If someone else took you from me... there would be no point in any of this. This job. It was so… stuffy and boring before you came along. Every day was just office politics and saying the right things to the right people.” She loosened her grip, straightening the collar on your suit jacket with an airy, light touch. “But you… You changed something. So I brought you to my side. And I’ve been watching, getting to know all about you. You play down your talents so you don’t draw any attention. But you can’t help yourself. What you want more than anything is for someone to say they appreciate you, that they need you.”

She had to know how this sounded, right? She almost sounded like…

“And I do.” She held your face in her hand, her thumb grazing your cheek so gently you could’ve convinced yourself her touch wasn’t real. “I need you, love. Without you, none of this means anything.”

Your breathing was shaky, you never imagined that this would- could ever happen in a million years.

She drew you closer, a soft gasp slipping out when you realized just how close. If anyone else popped in, it would be completely obvious what was going on. But you didn’t push her away. If anything, you wished she would just close the gap and take it out of your hands.

“So what do you say?” She whispered in your ear, the warmth of her breath making you feel weak. “Are you mine?”

As if you could say anything else.

Yes, Miss.

It was so soft a response that you weren’t sure you’d said it out loud until you saw her smile. A finger to your lips, she laughed. Not her usual teasing, mischievous laugh when she was trying to get a reaction out of you. It was sweet, delighted and charming.

She was so close, her breath on your lips, her lashes just barely brushed your cheek.

“And I'm yours, love.”

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this one has been a long time coming, writing femme yanderes is difficult lol

this y/n ended up being a lady, and it didn't come into play much. but the hypercompetent assistant girl in love with her powerful boss lady is a wlw pairing near and dear to my heart.

Boss Lady's tentative full name is Lenora. she doesn't care for it, she goes by Nora. i originally gave her a last name to be called by in the story to make her seem more imposing, but it came off as awkward, like she has a name, but i didn't want her to be known by an unimportant surname

Jay started off as a lady, but i wrote her as more androgynous and it felt right to make them nb instead. it helped keep the reader's sexuality more ambiguous. i wanted to write them as wlw, but not strictly a lesbian. but she reads very much as a "useless lesbian" trope lol. Boss lady had to flirt with her for literal months on end before y/n caught on

i don't quite know how old Boss Lady is, i imagine her as late 30s, very early 40s, and there could be an age difference here, but it's not a necessary part of the story.

this Boss Lady COULD be the same Boss Lady as the one in Boss Lady has a House Spouse, sometime in the future of their relationship. maybe y/n gets burned out or quits for some reason and then becomes a domestic partner. But Boss Lady who obsesses over her employee was imagined as a separate Boss Lady originally. you can never have too many boss ladies.

and that header. i've said it before that editing the femme yandere headers is so awkward because the office lady ones just turn into their chests in tight button-downs lol

*whispers* would you guys find it weird if she called the reader "good girl"? 'cause i almost included it at the end there but thought it might be a bit much. i have a problem✌️

#female yandere #female yandere x y/n #female yandere x reader #yandere #yandere girl #femme yandere #yandere imagines #minty writing #girl yandere #female yandere x female reader #female reader #wlw yandere #yandere x darling #yandere female #Boss Lady #femme yandere x femme reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n

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dianneking · 1 year ago

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The Affair - Chapter 1 (Larissa/Reader)

Hiya! As part of my weekly writing challenge, I wrote this chapter over two writing sessions, and I chose not to wait for the fic to be finished before posting. It'll probably be a couple of chapters all together.

Pairing: Larissa Weems/You Rating: Mature

Tags: Morally Ambiguous Character, Swearing, Boss/Employee Relationship, Infidelity, Second-person POV, Teacher Reader.

Link to AO3 in the title

Next Chapter >

The Affair - Chapter 1

Waiting in the snow for a married woman , you thought, moodily pulling your scarf up to cover your freezing nose as yet another car passed, how the fuck did my life come to this?

You had never been one for thrills in life. If anything, you had been pretty boring: you’d always liked English class at school, always got straight As, never stepped a foot out of line. You never felt the need to, nor the appeal of being rebellious. You’d gone on to get a bachelor’s degree and teacher’s certification, and then you’d gone on to teach English in a string of small town schools.

There was only one aspect out of the ordinary in your life up until now; you could never settle down in one place.. You felt a restlessness, a pull towards something you still hadn’t found, and after a couple of years in a place, it inevitably built up until it was too strong to resist. And so you packed your bags, applied for a job somewhere else, and started anew.

You didn’t think Jericho would be much different. Small town, 5 thousand inhabitants, only spots of interest a tacky historical reconstruction site and a school full of outcasts. The same one you had applied to. Nothing much to offer. You’d give it a year or two at most.

You didn’t really care about the fact that you were teaching outcasts. They might drink blood or howl at the moon or whatever in their spare time, but they were teenagers that had to learn to write a proper essay just like anyone else. You prided yourself in your work ethic and told that to the board when they interviewed you. Apparently they appreciated that. Or there was nobody else who had applied. There had been some accidents during the last school year, apparently. The board had repeated several times that it had been a one-off and it had been taken care of definitively.They had all seemed very defensive about the topic.

Once again, you shrugged it off. You had no time to waste on rumors and things of the past. The school had its quirks, sure, but all schools had, each in their own way. You settled in your quarters on the school grounds, and started reviewing your lesson plans taking into account the notes left by the previous teacher. You settled in for your usual routine of lessons, tests, marking that you were familiar with by now.

And then she barged into your life, throwing routine and predictability to the wind.

Even with your aversion to gossip, you’d heard about her. Larissa Weems, the best principal Nevermore had ever had, mysteriously injured in the line of work, supposedly trying to protect the school, and hospitalized for months after that. When talking about her, voices dropped to a whisper out of respect - or fear, you hadn’t been able to ascertain that.

The day she had come back, you’d have thought royalty was about to visit the school, with the amount of fretting, of preparations, of nervous energy filling the halls and rooms. You’d had to let your classes work on assignments because they had been unable to listen to one word of what you were explaining. You had rolled your eyes in the privacy of your room. Seriously, you’d seen plenty of disruptive principals in your years of teaching, but one who could be so distracting even before she had set foot back in school? That was a first.

You felt obliged to show up as well to the welcoming committee. The whole staff was there, as well as the student body. Some had even prepared signs, and there was a white banner draped along the balcony on which was written, in red paint, a very wonky Welcome back Princ. Weems .

It was cute that she was so beloved by her school, you thought, but you were also thinking of how to recover the day of missed lessons, and how to optimize the next days’ so as to go back on track. You tried not to be too miffed about it.

All of the thoughts of lesson plans and all of the lingering irritation at them being disrupted fled your brain at the sight of the first foot stepping out of the car. Shiny, varnished black shoes, showing off a milky ankle, and a shapely calf that look longer than any you’d seen (not that you made a point of looking at women’s legs all the time, but sometimes your eyes did wander…)

The skin on show was sadly cut off below the knee by the modest hemline of a woolen dress and it was at that point that Nevermore’s principal exited the car in all of her towering beauty, and your mind went completely blank, cause in all of their gossip everyone in Nevermore had forgotten to mention a small, key detail about the principal.

She was stunning.

The most beautiful woman you’d ever seen was standing before you, waving and smiling regally, as the whole school cheered. You almost didn’t notice all the jubilant ruckus, your eyes too busy raking all over her figure, as if trying to commit every single detail to memory. Her slender, elegant hands, wrapped in leather gloves. The perfectly-tailored coat, in the same fabric and color as the dress. The sparkle of her gold jewelry in the pale winter sun. The perfect proportion of her face, the way the bright red lipstick brought attention to her smile.

Her light eyes were roaming all over the crowd, as if taking stock of known faces and new entries. Finally her gaze fixed on you, and you could see a spark of amusement flicker on her face at seeing you.

You belatedly realized that you had been gaping at her like a fish out of water.

The day after you had still been beating yourself up about the humiliation at being caught slack-jawed staring at your boss when she visited you in your classroom after you were done with the day’s lessons.

She rapped against the doorframe, but strode in before you could say anything. You scrambled to your feet, awkwardly, while she covered the distance from the door to your desk in a couple of long steps. She was wearing another dress today, a tartan dress with a belt that cinched her waist, underlying the shape of her hips and chest while still being completely work-appropriate.

“So you’re the new teacher they have hired to replace poor Collins.” It wasn’t a question, but you nodded anyway. “I’m Larissa Weems. Usually, I have the final word on new hires. The board does a wonderful job but sometimes they lack a certain sort of practicality in their assessment of candidates, as it happened with the last hire. I wasn’t convinced by her spiel, but the board insisted and…well. I should have trusted my gut instinct.” Her eyes grew distant for a second, before focusing back on you with a hard gaze. You could see the speckles of lighter and darker blue mixing in her irises, and the perfectly applied make-up that highlighted their natural beauty. You tried to shake yourself out of her charm. She could be trying to fire you, and you were busy ogling her! That’s not the kind of person you were! You cleared your voice, trying to think up something to say to help your case.

“I…”

“I know you have been hired already, and I am sure you are a perfect fit for the role. I’d just like to have a little chat together, nothing too formal, just getting to know each other a little bit better.” She smiled as she said that, and while you were sure it was supposed to be a polite smile, you couldn’t help the shiver that went down your spine at that.

She looks like a predator closing in on prey , your mind unhelpfully suggested.

You swallowed, suddenly conscious of your sweaty palms and increasing heart rate.

“O-of course, ma'am." was all you could meekily say.

"Perfect." she purred. "Meet me at seven sharp at the Lilac Lounge. I'll have a private booth reserved."

To be continued...

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queen-of-the-avengers · 26 days ago

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Candy Cane Lane

Pairing: Bartender!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.3k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: It’s Christmas time and that means buying gifts and attending holiday parties with your friends. You and Scott reach an impasse in your relationship, one that you might not be able to get over. Who is right there next to you when it inevitably crumbles? Bucky. He’s always going to be there.

One in a Million Series

Square Filled: free space (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Ah, Christmas. You love the holiday season. Every year back home, you and your parents would decorate the house as much as you could and even put fake snow inside to make it feel like a Winter Wonderland. You’re flying back to your family, Bucky is flying home to New York to be with his sister, Steve is staying inside the loft, and Sam is sailing out to his friends who are living at sea for the next couple of months.

To celebrate the year and to the employees who have done such great work, Disney is throwing a huge office party right before the holidays, and you’re all invited. Steve got the invite a month ago, and you’ve been preparing for it since. There’s just last-minute shopping you need to do because, for the life of you, you don’t know what to get Scott for Christmas.

You two have been dating for just over a month so it’s nothing too serious but you can tell Scott has strong feelings for you. You’re just not sure about your feelings for him. He’s coming off a little too strong for your tastes, but maybe this is what you need to move on from Bucky. He’s been plaguing your dreams as of late. It’s like no matter what you do, who you kiss, or what you tell yourself, he’s the main character in your mind.

At this point, he should be paying rent from how much he’s living inside your head.

The party is this weekend so you only have two days to go shopping for a gift for Scott. He’s going to be at the party and you figured you could exchange gifts while you’re there. What do you get someone you’ve been seeing for a month that you kind of like but are hung up on another man?

You walk out of your room and see all three roommates inside the kitchen munching on the pie you made.

“Hey, that was supposed to be for tonight,” you say. All three of them look up like they’re kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. “Whatever. Look, I need help. Can you guys come with me to go last-minute shopping? Please?” Bucky looks like he’d rather do anything else, Sam looks at the ceiling to avoid your eyes, and Steve takes another slow bite of the pie. “I’ll buy you food.”

A chorus of “Yeah, alright” goes around, and you grin in triumph. The mall is packed with people rushing to get presents and families with kids shouting and complaining that they’ve been out too long. Steve and Sam break off from the group to find the best food places while you and Bucky browse the many stores.

“So, I thought you got all of your shopping done.”

“I did. I don’t have a gift for Scott.”

“You’re getting him a present? You’ve only been dating a month.”

You look at him with big eyes. “Should I not get him one?

Bucky loves how big your heart is. “No, no, I think it’s nice you’re getting him something. What did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know. I think jewelry is out of the question. I think a watch is too big. I can get him something practical. Maybe a coffee maker? I always go overboard with presents, especially when I don’t know the person that well. It’s either too big or not big enough. I need your help.”

“Come on, I know you, Y/N. You already had a present in mind. What was it?”

“Fine,” you sigh. You take out a card from your purse. “It was a certificate for piping hot sex, but now I’m not so sure.”

Bucky takes the card from you and grins as he reads it. “I’m keeping this. This is great.”

“No, you’re not!” You try to grab it but he holds it just out of reach. He moves the card up higher when you start to jump for it, but he’s too damn tall. You fall against Bucky in laughter, and he holds you by your waist to keep you steady. You look into his eyes with a sultry gaze, and his arm lowers just slightly enough for you to grab the card. “Ha!”

“Alright, alright,” Bucky smirks.

You two walk into a store that sells all kinds of things like clothing, toys, shoes, jewelry, etc.

“Okay, if you were my boyfriend, what would you want?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

Bucky pauses in thought. He knows what he would want. Instead, he’s thinking about how you said my boyfriend and not a boyfriend. Do you even like Scott as much as you say you do? He often wonders what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.

“Well, I’d want another motorcycle helmet. Mine is getting pretty worn down, and the lenses are getting scratched.”

You walk around the store as you talk, and you notice something in one of the aisles. You grab the box of magnets and hold them up to him with a smile. “How about I get these so you can decorate your arm?”

Bucky looks away with a smile. Another twenty minutes inside the store, and you find the perfect gift for Scott. A plush realistic heart that throbs as it pumps blood, and it even makes a squishy noise that represents the blood flowing through it. It’s perfect for a science teacher who specializes in anatomy. By the time you two are done, Steve and Sam already have a food place picked out.

“So, did you find something?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, with Bucky’s help.”

“Good luck to Scott. Bucky is the worst gift giver, ever.”

“I don’t know. He’s not all bad,” you grin at Bucky.

After a nice lunch, you start the drive back to the apartment. It’s a straight shot but you decide to take the scenic route through the neighborhood that shows off all of their lights. It’s called Candy Cane Lane. All of the houses already have started decorating and will be done by tonight.

“Why are we here, Y/N?” Bucky asks.

“I wanted to show you this place. It’s a whole festival of lights that they do every year. It’s beautiful, and I really want to see this before we all go to the airport.”

“I don’t think I can come to this. It’s imperative that don’t miss this flight. My sister is going to kill me if I do.”

“Oh, okay,” you say.

Yes, you’re sad that you might not be able to show this to Bucky but you’re not going to let him miss his flight.

“Is Natasha going?” Steve asks.

“Yes,” you smirk. “She’ll be right over as soon as she finishes a showing on a house. Did you get something for her?”

“Maybe,” Steve mumbles.

You get back home and text Scott to come over. You’d rather give him his gift now than wait until the party. If he hates it, at least only you will know. Bucky watches you walk off with your eyes on your phone, and he sighs to himself. He breaks apart from the group and walks into his room. The only person to who he hasn’t given a gift yet is you. He’s not sure if he’s ever going to give it to you, not when you’re with Scott.

Bucky opens the small box to reveal a necklace that has your birthstone on it. It’s a stone that’s wrapped in a vine-like fashion that then turns into the chain. He doesn’t know why he got this knowing you two aren’t dating. All he knows is that he took one look at it and knew it belonged on your neck.

An hour goes by before Scott comes over. You immediately take him to your room so that you can have some privacy.

“I hope this isn’t too forward but I got you something for Christmas.”

“I got you something, too,” he smiles.

He pulls out an envelope and you pull out the small gift bag the heart is in. You seem surprised at the envelope but take it nonetheless. Scott waits patiently for you to open your gift first, so you open the envelope in curiosity. They’re tickets. Once your brain comprehends what’s in your hands, you feel your body stiffen.

“Wow. Music festival tickets in Copenhagen. I don’t know what to say. Thank you,” you stutter. “I feel like an asshole for what I got you now.” Scott opens his present and gasps when he sees the plush heart. “I know, it’s nothing like this, but--”

“I love it,” he smiles. “It’s funny and quirky and sweet, just like you. That’s why I love it.” He doesn’t miss a beat when he says, “I love you.”

All the blood drains from your face. Scott pulls you into a hug and rubs your back, but you can barely move. Uncomfortable silence fills the room. Say something! Scott is waiting for you to say something!

“Thank you,” you say awkwardly and pat his back.

What the fuck. Out of all the things you could have said, you just had to say ‘thank you’? If Scott never knew how you felt, he does now. You like him, kind of, but you don’t love him. He left right after you exchanged gifts and will meet you at the party later. Bucky immediately knew something was wrong when you didn’t say a single word on the ride to the party. He wants to ask you about it but he knows it’s best to wait for you to come to him.

Steve and Natasha are already in the lobby when you arrive. He left to give her her present and they rode here together.r They might be dating, you’re not sure. Natasha would have told you otherwise but she hasn’t. They’re cute together and you know Steve won’t break her heart like all the other guys before, and Natasha is definitely going to make Steve work for it.

Natasha tucks her hair behind her ear, giving you a great view of the earrings you got her. “You’re wearing my present!” You pull her in for a hug and immediately get a noseful of a strong perfume. “Oh, my God, what is that smell?”

“The perfume Steve got me.”

“Oh, how nice of him,” you nod.

Scott shows up minutes later, but the air is awkward and thick. Bucky looks between you two but can’t quite put his finger on what might have happened. Did he say something? Did you? Did he do something? He’ll beat him the fuck up if he hurt you.

Once everyone gets here, you head upstairs to where the party is. There are already a lot of people here, so it’s easy to distract yourself from your situation with Scott.

“Hey, I’ll be right back. I’m going to get some drinks for us.”

“Okay,” he nods.

You’re already walking away before he can get the word out. Instead of getting drinks, you immediately hide in the corner where you can see everything. You’ll be able to see if Scott is coming or not. ‘Thank you’ is one of the worst responses when someone says they love you. You wanted to say it back but you can’t say something you don’t feel.

“Hiding?” You look up and notice Bucky standing right next to you. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”

“Oh, hey, Buck.”

“Why are you hiding? What happened between you and Scott?”

“He told me he loved me, but I can’t say it back so I said ‘thank you’. I don’t know what to do now,” you sigh. “I have always been the one to love more. I love so much but I can’t seem to get there with him. It’s not even about love at this point. I want to like him but I just… don’t. Not as much as I should, anyway.”

“If you don’t have feelings for him, you have to tell him?”

“This is the worst time of year to break up with someone. First, there’s Christmas, then New Year’s, then Valentine’s Day, and then President’s Day.”

“It’s hard to argue with that logic,” he nods. “Still, you’ll hurt him more if you don’t.”

“Okay, I will. Thanks, Bucky.”

You leave his side in search of Scott when you see Natasha go into the ladies’ room. You turn and follow her inside the bathroom. She’s at the sink wiping some wet paper towels onto her skin.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to wipe off this perfume stench. Steve is sweet but this stinks.”

“He really likes you.”

“I know.”

“Do you like him?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I could.”

“He’s a good guy, Nat. I don’t want to see him hurt.”

“I know.” You two slide down the wall and sit on the tile away from the door. “So, do you want to tell me what’s going on with you and Scott?” You look at her and she rolls her eyes. “Come on, you can barely look at him.”

“He told me he loves me but I couldn’t say it back. Me. I don’t know. Maybe I should just make it work. I can learn to love him, right? He’s sweet.”

“Being sweet isn’t enough to keep someone around. Love is. If you don’t love him, he should know so he can find someone who does.”

“It’s only been a month, Nat. He shouldn’t be in love already.”

“Some people love harder than others.”

“Yeah. I’ll break up with him after the holidays. I’m not a monster.” You get up and pull the door open. “You still stink, by the way.”

You smirk when you hear her curse. You’re not sure what time it is since your phone died, but the party is still crowded with people so it can’t be that late. You pass by the balcony and notice Bucky and Scott outside hugging. Bucky is not a hugger. You push the door open and pop your head out.

“What’s going on here? Why are you guys hugging?”

They pull away from each other and Scott looks like someone punched his puppy right in front of him, and Bucky looks like he’s in pain… emotional pain.

“We’re just… talking,” Scott says.

“Talking?” You look at Bucky. “You hate talking.”

“Yeah, we’re talking about… about sports.”

There is a pause between all three of you, and you look at Bucky. He takes one look at those big beautiful eyes and folds immediately. He has to come clean.

“That’s a lie,” Bucky sighs. “I told him you didn’t love him.”

“What?” you gasp. “Bucky!”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Scott tries to say.

“No, it’s not okay. You had no business telling him that!” you yell. “What the hell!”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m just gonna…” Bucky walks to the balcony door and tries to open it but it won’t budge. “No, come on. This is my nightmare. Come on!”

“We should talk,” Scott sighs.

“Yeah.”

You and Scott sit down on the bench while Bucky still tries to get inside the office. He doesn’t want to break the glass so he continually knocks on it in hopes someone will hear it.

“Bucky shouldn’t have told you that but it’s true. I… don’t love you.”

“Okay,” Scott nods slowly. “So, what now?”

“Look, I like you. I do, but I guess I’m just a bit overwhelmed. It’s only been a month, Scott.”

“I understand. I know about your relationship with Jack, and I respect those boundaries, but I thought we were feeling the same thing for each other.”

“We were… we are, but I think you’re feeling them more than me.” Bucky knocks against the glass noisily, and you glare at him. “Sit down and shut up, Bucky. This is your fault.” He frowns but does what he’s told. “Look, Scott, I got hurt and I’m trying really hard not to get hurt again.”

The tension is cut with the ringing of Bucky’s phone. You and Scott look at Bucky who has a red face of embarrassment. He takes out his phone and sees his sister, Rebecca, calling him.

“I’m sorry. Just one second.” Bucky answers the call. “Hey, Bec. … Yeah, I’ll be there … No, don’t worry. … Seriously, I’ll be there. I still have time. I gotta go. … Okay, bye.” He looks at you. “Continue.”

“We can keep going but I think we should take it slow.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Oh, come on,” Bucky groans. “How hard is it to take it slow?”

“Bucky,” you growl.

“Yeah, I’ll shut up.”

“I don’t want to slow down… Not with you. It’s not what I want. If you need to, I don’t think I can do this with you.”

“So, I guess this is it, right?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Okay,” you nod.

Suddenly, the balcony door opens and Sam pops his head outside. “Have any of you seen a small child running around?”

“Yes! Sam, you’re my hero!”

Bucky jumps up and dashes inside, and you sigh. After this, you’re not in a partying mood anymore. Candy Cane Lane is also well past closing so all there is left to do is go home and prepare for your flights. You, Bucky, Sam, Natasha, and Steve are in one car with Bucky driving. He keeps looking over at you with your head on the window. It’s his fault for running his big mouth and he’s not going to keep disappointing you.

“What flight leaves at 1 am?” Sam asks.

“The kind I can afford,” Bucky answers. Again, Bucky sneaks a peek at you. He can’t end the night like this. “There’s something we gotta do first.”

Bucky does a complete one-eighty and drives in the opposite direction of the airport.

“What are you doing?”

Bucky doesn’t answer until he gets to Candy Cane Lane, but all the lights are off. “I screwed up everything. We were supposed to come to this.”

You get out of the car just like everyone else and stare down the dark and desolate road.

“Let’s just go home, Bucky.”

“No, this is Christmas. We came to see the lights.”

“What are you going to do? It’s one in the morning.”

“Hey! Turn on your lights!” Bucky takes off toward one of the houses and knocks on the door rapidly. “Come on, I got a girl out here that wants to see the lights!” A slight smile makes its way to your face. “Turn on the lights!”

Steve, Sam, and Natasha join in and yell at the top of their lungs to turn the damn lights on. You’re the only one who is silent because you can’t stop looking at Bucky. ONe by one, the lights turn on and the inflatables start to rise again. In this moment, everything disappears until the only person you can see is Bucky.

He walks over to you and smiles softly and with adoration. He reaches into his breast pocket and pills out a small box and hands it over to you.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

You open it to reveal your birthstone encased in vines that make up the rest of the chain. You gasp and touch the stone delicately as if it will shatter under your touch.

“I love it so much. Thank you.”

You pull him in for a hug, and he slides his hands down your back. He did a dick thing by telling Scott how you feel, but he is most certainly making up for it now. You pull back from Bucky only enough to create only a few inches of space between you two. He glances down at your lips but doesn’t make a move.

“You’re welcome.”

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ink-flavored · 7 days ago

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Anthology Blast Prompt 12: Work Hard, Play Harder

for the Athendroyln After Dark Anthology Full prompt list for the Anthology Blast Tips are appreciated! Contains: person/inanimate objects, dubious consent, masturbation, semi-public masturbation, enchanted sex toys, horny accidents, vaginal penetration, anal penetration, fellatio, impact play, light bondage, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, getting walked in on

Geni cleared the last product off the “New Arrivals” display, leaving only the mini whiteboard sign, and dropped it into the plastic tub at her feet. All of it was going back into storage to make room for newer arrivals, which should be arriving later that day if the shipment notification told the truth. And she hoped it was—there was nothing more annoying than clearing out an entire shelf for a delivery that didn’t exist, then putting it all back.

She stretched hugely, tucking her deep brown, nearly black, arms under her curled horns and shook her legs, rustling the long, white, curly strands of fur. Opening up the shop wasn’t her favorite thing in the world, but at least it would be a slow weekday shift. Plus, with the manager helping out, even though Geni could have done it herself, they got most of the hard stuff knocked out in no time. Every job had its challenges, but she had to admit that this sex shop was the most laid-back environment she’d ever worked in.

Mating Dance was a cute little store in the little High Walk district, fitting for the third-smallest district in the city. The building was long and asymmetrical from its history as an alleyway between two buildings that no longer existed. The shelves were crammed with products to accommodate the lack of space, everything from dildos to cock cages to corny erotic board games up for sale. What room was left on the scarlet-painted walls was covered up with framed prints from local erotic artists and photographers. Employees were encouraged to kick out any customer that made them uncomfortable—which Geni had taken advantage of plenty of times—and the pay was better than working in a grocery store by a long shot.

She snapped her fingers and the tub at her feet lifted into the air. It rose higher and higher, wobbling precariously. Geni held her breath as the spell stabilized around the heavy container. Her magic had always been hit-or-miss, even now that she was in the process of getting a wizardry certification. Sometimes her spells just fizzled out or did something completely different than what she intended. Her instructors claimed it was the fault of an easily broken concentration, but she found that hard to believe.

The plastic tub held still at eye-level, waiting for direction. She sighed in relief and nudged it toward the storage room.

“Hey, Geni!”

She jumped and the container crashed to the floor, boxes of sex toys spilling out onto the floor. It was Zephyr, her green and yellow feathered harpy manager. Their terracotta brown face, topped off by a swirl of red hair, winced from where they peeked in through the back door. Geni hung her head, her own curly mop obscuring the mess of her failed spell.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Zephyr said.

“It’s fine,” she said, attempting not to sound annoyed. “Did you need something?”

“Actually, yes! That shipment got here early.”

Geni snapped out of it. “Really? That never happens.”

“I know, right? There’s a few boxes, I’ll need your help to carry it in.”

Leaving the old toys scattered on the floor, Geni trotted to the back of the shop. Zephyr held the door open with one of their wing-arms, curled talons on the end to approximate fingers. He often needed help carrying in deliveries, even with his magic. His hollow bones and long tendons were great for flying, but not necessarily lifting heavy objects. Geni was happy to assist, it was her job after all—though she elected to carry these brand new products in by hand this time.

They hefted all three boxes inside, next to the tub Geni spilled. Zephyr sliced them open with one very sharp talon, and the two of them crouched on the floor together to unpack the inventory. Two were standard deliveries, refreshing products they already had in stock, but the third was something new entirely.

A rainbow of toys greeted them as they flipped it open. The well-known PassionaTech brand blazed across the top of the individually packaged boxes in an elaborate cursive. A depiction of the toy inside each particular box was front and center, along with dramatic and colorful descriptions of its features, how long its enchantments lasted, and how sexy it was. Across the bottom, it boasted a new and deeper form of pleasure, thanks to the power of…

“’Synchro’?” Geni read, pulling out one of the flashy boxes.

“It’s a new line of enchanted toys,” Zephyr confirmed. They cocked their head at the one in her hand. “Just released earlier this year.”

“What’s the gimmick?”

“Take a guess.”

“Synchronizing, obviously, but with what?” Ears tilted curiously, Geni turned the box over where the longer marketing copy explained the premise. “‘Each toy in our new and industry shattering’—yeah, right—‘Synchro line is enchanted to excel in one individual act of pleasure.’ Only one?”

“Keep reading.”

“‘With each Synchro toy activated, the secondary synchronization enchantment ensures that they work in tandem, not just with each other, but with your body. Every Synchro toy harmonizes with its companions, allowing hands-free combination and unlimited fantasies. Synchro was made for you to create an unforgettable erotic experience—a new and deeper form of pleasure.’” Geni snorted. “That’s a little dramatic.”

Zephyr shrugged his wings. “Probably. But they have to sell them somehow.”

“Well, at least this one’s waterproof.” She tossed the toy back into the box. “So, these are going on the display, right?”

“Yeah, I think one of each color should be enough.” He looked over his shoulder. “If you can find a place to shelve them, go ahead, but if you can’t, come talk to me and we can rearrange something.”

“On it, boss.” Geni shoved the Synchro box closer to the display table. She glanced back at her earlier mess, plus the other two boxes. “Actually, do you want me in storage instead?”

Zephyr got to their feet, ruffling their feathers. “I can take care of it. You’re better at setting up the displays anyway.”

“Alright, let me know if you need any help before we open.”

“Who’s managing who around here?”

Geni laughed and went back to the New Arrivals display at the front of the store. Zephyr magically whisked the remaining boxes into the storage room, disappearing behind one of the awkwardly shaped corners. With this one thing left to do before Mating Dance opened, Geni prepared for an easy day on the job.

The Synchro line had five colors in its sexual rainbow—pink, yellow, green, blue, and purple. Geni picked out one of each, setting them on the display to be unwrapped. She nudged the full box aside with a hoof to see if she could find a place to put them later.

Pink was first, a palm-sized external vibrator. Geni looked it over for any blemishes or broken parts. The toy was smooth silicone all the way down except for a small plastic cap on the very end, inscribed with a line of tiny runes around the edges. The ones that fueled the enchantments, no doubt. Geni rolled her eyes and picked up the next box.

Synchronized sex toys was a fine gimmick, but there was no way it would ever live up to the hype they promised. Enchanted sex toys were already a hassle—trying to wrangle a magic vibrator with lube-slicked hands was a nightmare, especially for Geni’s already finicky magic. This Synchro nonsense just made it more of a hassle to squeeze money out of their customers.

Because really, an enchanted sex toy that could only do one thing? That was the real gimmick, being able to sell their toys like collectables to people who bought into the idea that “synchronized enchantments” were worth the money they could get buying one, better enchanted toy. Geni would not be partaking in this charade. She preferred mundane sex toys in the first place.

Most of the line was self-explanatory. The yellow one was a vibrating dildo, the green one was a regular dildo with a suction-cup base, and the blue one was a butt plug, each with runes engraved somewhere on it. The only toy Geni couldn’t figure out was the purple one—it looked like a random slab of silicone about the length of her forearm. The box claimed it was a “versatile erotic enhancement” toy. Which meant absolutely nothing, but whatever. Someone would find a way to use it.

She brushed the empty boxes and the instructions onto the floor to be thrown out. Now for the fun part: organizing the display. Geni tried a few different set-ups, leaning them against each other, lining them up in rainbow order, and incorporating a mannequin hand to hold one. After disassembling her latest configuration, she realized she forgot to change the whiteboard sign. She waved her free hand at the check-out, the other still occupied with organizing.

She expected a whiteboard marker to fly into her hand. Instead, her hand started vibrating.

Geni frowned, ears pinned back against her head. The little pink toy buzzed away in her other hand where she clutched it. She flipped it over to the bottom, and sure enough, the enchantment runes glowed bright and active. How did that happen? She poked it a few times, fingers sparking with magic. It changed the speed, but not to off.

“How do you…?” she muttered. She tried holding down the enchantment for a few seconds, willing it to stop. Nothing.

Already not the biggest fan of these, Geni sighed heavily. She really didn’t want to ask Zephyr how to use this thing, but apparently she had no choice. She set the toy on the display to let it buzz away while she went to storage.

It was her first mistake.

Geni didn’t get two steps before the pink toy flew off the display and shoved itself between her legs. She gasped, stumbling across the floor as it glued itself to her clit. Several settings in from her attempts to stop it, the vibration was a rapid, powerful pulse. She stood completely still, awkwardly spread apart, and eyes pinched shut.

“Fuck,” she swore. Now she really didn’t want to ask for Zephyr’s help.

Geni glanced all around, trying to come up with some sort of idea. She spied the abandoned boxes and instructions on the floor. The instructions! Surely those would help her. She waddled over to the boxes and gingerly knelt down.

The vibrator switched positions, dragging itself across her clit, and she slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle a moan. It pulsed hard and fast against her, lighting her nerves on fire. Geni froze with her back arched and her palm over her face. She had to turn this thing off, now.

Frantic, she slapped the boxes around looking for the one the pink vibrator had come in. The whole time, her clit throbbed, and her breath came short from the magic onslaught of pleasure. When she finally found the box, she yanked the instructions out desperately.

“Okay, okay, okay,” she sighed, shuffling on her knees back to the display table. “On and off, please, tell me.”

Unfortunately, this stupid company printed the instructions with the smallest letters known to any creature. Geni struggled to her feet, panting, squinting, and the vibrator in no hurry to stop. Leaning heavily on the display, she tried to read the miniscule instructions in the light from the window. She glanced up, staring right out of the store and onto the street. She swallowed. Luckily this thing was small. Her fur was so long, maybe nobody passing by would notice.

That wasn’t important. Geni hunkered down to solve her ridiculous problem. She reached down and grabbed the little vibrator, pulling it away from her clit. Relief flooded her, and she almost collapsed back to the floor.

“‘Tap the runes with’—I did that. Blah, blah, ‘make sure to charge the enchantment,’ whatever. Where’s the stupid off button on this thing?”

Geni slapped the instructions down, pinning her ears back. The stupid pink toy buzzed her fingers, slick from playing around in her cunt. She took a breath. This thing was magic. It was an enchantment. All she had to do was cast a spell to freeze it.

She clenched her fist around the vibrator and closed her eyes. She felt its magic, the power that coursed through it, and through her. The same power that it used to rub her clit and make her wet would be the same that she’d use to turn it off. It was all connected, the flow of magic from one creature to one object and back into the universe. Geni relaxed, grasping that power in both hands, and casted a spell to make it stop having sex with her. Even though it was kind of hot.

The spell pulsed through her body like the buzzing of the vibrator. It flooded her nerves and burst through her hands. Geni snapped her eyes open, triumphant. But the vibrator hadn’t stopped buzzing, and under her other hand…

Horrified, Geni watched as the yellow vibrating dildo rose up from under the instructions, where she placed her other hand. At the same time, the pink and yellow toys chimed and sparkled, rippling with the glow of their enchantments. Synchronizing. The dildo squirted something clear from its tip, and she remembered one of the enchantments boasted on the box: self-lubricating.

The only idea she had was to run. Geni scrambled back from the display, but both toys followed. Her legs were shaky. She couldn’t get away fast enough.

As a team, the pink toy latched on to her clit again and the dildo stuffed itself up her cunt. Geni locked her throat so she wouldn’t make any noise, but fuck she wanted to. The dildo and the vibrator moved in and against her at the same time, vibrating with the same intense, rapid pulse. The yellow one fucked her, dragging its vibrating tip past her g-spot, and the pink buzzed her clit every time it drove home. Slick lube leaked from the dildo and dripped down her inner thighs.

Geni caught a glimpse of someone walking and she dropped to her knees. The toys kept fucking her and she could only bite her arm to keep herself quiet, the change in angle devastating her again. At least nobody outside saw her—hopefully.

On all fours, she couldn’t do anything but let the sex toys have their way with her. She trembled and whimpered into her arm as her cunt got pounded, her clit destroyed. The pink toy flicked her back and forth now, still buzzing hard with every thrust the yellow one gave. She wondered what changed, when it was completely stationary before.

The thought popped like a bubble when the dildo slammed home hard. She sobbed into her arm, back arched and ass in the air. Her short tail wagged back and forth almost as fast as the vibrator. Geni gave up being angry and thrusted back against the dildo. If she was going to get fucked, she was going to enjoy it. And as stupid as these toys were, they knew how to fuck.

She muffled a moan as it slammed her cunt, buzzing tip finding her g-spot perfectly. Geni thrusted for the dildo and humped the vibrator, drooling over her forearm. Every thrust, flick, and pulse made her squirm and shake. Her thighs were soaked, gushing past the dildo and matting her fur to her legs. Another hard thrust and she quaked.

Geni was so close now. Maybe the toys would stop if she came. Maybe she would have an orgasm, they’d stop, and she could wash them off and no one would ever be the wiser. She’d just come one time, she just had to come, she needed to—

Geni clenched around the dildo and moaned wantonly into her arm. Her body trembled from her horns to her hooves as she came. Ecstasy washed through her as easily as magic, but instead of escaping, it filled her up with bliss. It went on and on, the enchanted toys fucking her through her orgasm.

But they didn’t stop when it was over. When Geni came down from her high, her oversensitive clit was still getting flicked around, her cunt still stuffed. She groaned, this time out of annoyance as much as eroticism. Back to the damn instructions, apparently.

Crawling was all she had the energy for. The toys followed, zipping along to catch up as she shuffled along on her knees. The tip of the dildo popped out of her hole when she got out of reach, only to stick itself back in by the next step. The vibrator slid up and down her clit, massaging it until she writhed. It was awful and wonderful and she needed it to stop.

Geni clambered to the display and grabbed the first thing she could stabilize herself with. Another one of the toys, of course—the green dildo, suction-cupped to the table. She ignored the way her stomach dropped, using it as leverage to pull herself to kneeling. Finally, eye-level with the display, the instructions were ready and waiting for her to read. To figure out how to turn these off, for real this time. She picked up the flimsy piece of paper in her free hand.

The dildo fucked her hard, shoving itself up her leaky, overused cunt, and the vibrator buzzed in tandem. Geni choked on her breath, body snapping up in shock. The instructions fluttered out of her weak, shaky hand.

“No!” she gasped, fumbling for it. She missed.

The instructions twirled like an autumn leaf to the floor. Geni couldn’t think, breathe, or move anymore—she just casted a spell at it, willing it into her hand.

Something else came to life instead. She wasn’t surprised, but a little exhausted by now.

The green dildo came off the table with a pop! and sparkled. The other toys paused, giving her a moment of relief, to synchronize with the new addition. The green one flew at her, but instead of up her ass or—Gods—trying to share her cunt with the other dildo, it went up her shirt. Geni fell back, startled, as it sawed away between her tits.

Geni yanked her shirt up just in time. The green dildo spurted the same clear lube as the yellow one, splattering clear goop on her chest. For a resigned moment, she just watched. Cunt worked to oblivion, tits slick and bouncing from the silicone cock sliding between them, her lust coalesced into something mesmerizing. The yellow and green dildos slid in and out, up and down, in perfect tandem.

She came so close to moaning openly. Her legs trembled too hard to walk, her clit was sore and raw, her cunt ached—and now this, watching herself get tit-fucked. It was so much. A clumsy hand reached up to pinch one of her nipples, rolling it between her fingers. She whined in the back of her throat.

“Shut up,” she begged herself. Why was she doing this? She wanted to stop these things.

The green dildo gave her chest one last bounce and popped free. As if it heard, it flew up to her mouth, pressing its leaking tip against her lips. She gasped, surprised, and that was all the invitation it needed. It pressed against her teeth, trying to push past them into her mouth.

Fuck it, she decided. Geni opened her mouth and fell onto her back.

The green dildo slid inside, and she sucked it like it was a real cock. To her surprise, the magic self-lubrication tasted salty, an approximation of pre-cum coating her tongue. When it slid out, she licked the smooth tip. It gushed, the salty, fake cum-lube close enough to the real thing to make her whine. With a shudder, she opened her legs wide, dropped her mouth, and put her hands on her tits.

Geni let herself be fucked in three different ways—four if she counted her own hands. She pinched and teased her nipples while the magic toys ravished her body. Her cunt was so fucked it almost hurt, but neither toy slowed. The dildo in her mouth muffled her moans and whines, stuffing her up where she needed it most.

It didn’t take long to have her second orgasm that morning, hips snapping and tremors wracking her used body. The toys kept fucking her like it wasn’t even happening, overstimulating her until tears pricked her eyes. Drool and cum-lube leaked from the corners of her mouth. She squirmed against the toys, arching so far back her horns touched the floor. It lasted for what felt like minutes, the whole time she moaned and clutched her tits, too uncoordinated to tease herself.

Her orgasm faded and she grabbed the green dildo so she could breathe. Geni turned her head to the side so it couldn’t fly right back in. Saliva and cum-lube dripped onto her cheek. She chewed her lip.

The other two toys sat on the display. She could see them from here, the blue butt plug laying on its side, and the weird purple slab draped over the edge. What would happen if all five of them synched up? What would it feel like? What did that purple one even do, anyway?

It was a horrible idea, but Geni was too lust-drunk to care. She threw a floppy hand toward the display and casted her spell twice.

The butt plug jumped to life. Everything stopped to synchronize, shimmering prettily. Predictably, the plug found her ass, more than lubricated enough from her drippy cunt. It swirled around her hole and fit itself snugly inside. Geni shoved the green dildo back in her mouth to muffle her crazy moan. The plug wedged itself deep inside her ass, spreading her tight hole and pushing against her walls. She bucked against it, scrabbling at the floor when it started to vibrate.

The purple slab floated over too. Everything stopped again, the purple thing hovering in the air to shimmer and shine. Geni watched it as all the other toys came back to life. It stayed there, suspended in the air for a moment. Most of it went limp without warning, only held up by a few inches at the end.

It slapped her across the tits. She squeaked past the dildo in her mouth, shocked. It slapped her the other way, leaving a hot sting across her skin. The burn hadn’t faded before it smacked her chest a third time, striking the same tender spot. Geni cried out behind her stuffed mouth, fists clenched in her hip fur. With no mercy, the purple toy smacked her tits so hard they bounced, back and forth, paying no heed to her sobs.

She couldn’t tell if it was out of pain or pleasure, and wasn’t sure if it even mattered. Almost everything hurt now—her clit was rubbed raw from constant vibrations, her cunt was so fucked it hurt, she could barely breathe through her mouth. Her newly stuffed ass throbbed as the plug stretched it out. And now her tits were getting slapped around, silicone smacking against her skin until it burned.

It was too awful—too wonderful. Geni peaked faster than ever, filled and fucked in so many ways. Her third orgasm was small, but her hips bucked hard. She moaned louder than both of the others, and nearly choked on the dildo in her ecstasy. She pulled it out, freeing her mouth just in time for the purple thing to slap her again. She gasped, arching off the floor as her skin tingled, deliciously painful. Her body throbbed and ached in every muscle, good and bad, lust and loathing. It slapped her again, the muffled buzz of vibrators harmonizing with the smack of skin on silicone.

Another smack rang in her ears, and she panicked. Was it loud enough for Zephyr to hear? Storage was an entire room away, but it wasn’t exactly far. Frantic, she grabbed the purple slab.

As soon as her fingers closed around it, the silicone slithered like a snake through her weak fists. It spun around and around until it tied itself around her wrists, locking her in make-shift handcuffs. Geni barely had time to dread her situation before it flung her arms over her head. The purple toy pinned her to the floor on her back, with the four other toys fucking away. She squirmed in her restraints, trembling as her body was taken over.

Geni watched the green dildo fuck itself on her tongue, using her mouth like a wet hole, and filling her throat with its cum-lube. The yellow dildo did the same, peeking between her trembling legs just long enough to tease her cunt before pounding it hard. The pink vibrator rubbed her exhausted clit, forcing it to endure far past its limit. The butt plug had no trouble sending shockwaves up her spine, the same intense pulse as the other two. Her tits still burned from the beating she’d taken, and now the purple thing intended to let the other toys have their way with her.

Despite the Synchro line being enchanted silicone, Geni felt more like a toy than any of them. She was used, abused, and fucked to their non-existent hearts’ content—they paid no heed to her magic or her quivering body. More than that, it was as if they were working together to ravish her, to squeeze as many orgasms out of her as they saw fit. They thrusted together, vibrated together, filled every hole she had, and smacked her silly until she came. They were synchronized.

It wasn’t the chaotic mess that five random enchanted toys would have been. If Geni had activated five completely separate products, they would have been all over the place. There would be no coordination, no rhythm, because they would function as if the other toys weren’t there. The Synchro toys fucked her in perfect unison, as one cohesive unit, taking her apart again and again.

Geni had to hand it to them. It was a deeper form of pleasure.

As the line of enchanted toys chased her to orgasm again, she almost wanted to cry. She was so tired, so used, so everything, but they wouldn’t stop. The fur between her legs dripped with cum-lube and her own wetness, her face was slathered in her own saliva, her legs shook, she tried to squirm away as they fucked her, but she knew they wouldn’t stop. She could have screamed it, but they wouldn’t. They couldn’t hear her. They weren’t even alive. They would fuck her until their enchantments wore out, which could be hours of her life. Hours spent being forced to come again and again, locked to the floor, and made to endure hours of this incredible agony.

Geni writhed, arched, bucked her hips, sobbed and moaned when her mouth wasn’t stuffed with silicone cock. She wrenched her wrists to try and free herself from the purple toy, but to no avail. The bubbling, horrible feeling of orgasm built up again, and she couldn’t take it anymore. Geni kicked her hooves, thrashed her head, did everything she could think of to make it stop, but nothing did. The toys were fucking her, they were going to make her come, they wouldn’t stop—

“What in the Gods’ name is going on?”

Her peak crashed immediately. Geni whipped her head around to see Zephyr, gawking at her helpless state. She wriggled harder, pleading with her eyes for them to help her. Slowly, they inched around her to tap the purple handcuffs. All the toys froze and sparkled as the purple toy went limp.

Geni sat up, frantic, and yanked the dildo out of her mouth. “Thank you,” she rasped. “Thank you, I promise this was an accident—I was holding the pink one and it activated when I was trying to do something else, and I couldn’t figure out how to shut it off and—”

“Shut it off?” Zephyr asked.

“Y-Yeah, like make it stop?”

“You just cancel the spell.”

They gingerly touched the drenched green dildo with the very end of their talon. Their wing-hand shocked with a tiny spark. The toys all froze to de-synchronize again. The green one stopped leaking freely, going upright and rigid in her hand. Geni stared at it.

“Oh,” she said.

“Do you… not know how to cancel spells?”

“I—I’m—hah—”

The other three toys were still merrily fucking away at her. Sitting on the butt plug hadn’t done her any favors, either. One by one, Geni plucked the toys out of her holes and cancelled them herself. Her face went hot with embarrassment.

“I thought you said you used enchanted toys before,” Zephyr asked.

“I have!” she insisted. “But it was… it was a mundane toy that got enchanted later… so it had an off-button to press.” Her shame boiled over, ears meekly flattened to the side of her head.

“I see.” They looked around at the mess she made. “Go get cleaned up. I’ll handle the display.” Geni fixed her shirt, gathered up all the used toys, and hid in the bathroom until the store opened.

Events Taglist: @foxys-fantasy-tales @thelaughingstag @ceph-the-ghost-writer @auntdarth @srjacksin @alesseia @monstrify

Athendrolyn After Dark Taglist: @foxys-fantasy-tales @auroblaze @monstrify @thelaughingstag @auntdarth @srjacksin

Want to get on any of my tag lists? Check out my Google form!

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ofallthingsnasty · 1 year ago

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may I ask…you to go on about crocodile’s dentist office?? omg, oral surgeon crocodile?!? wisdom tooth removal?! screaming

Haaaa, yes you may 😳 Thing is, I don't write him without the hook/prosthetic hand - and that is tricky in that field. I personally know someone who suffered an amputation injury (idk if that's the correct translation, in German it's Amputationsverletzung, so simple lol) of two distal phalanges of the left hand and he can't practice anymore. He works for a dental implant company instead - that's why I mentioned Crocodile as a sort-of businessman in the tags of that Doffy/Law dentist shitpost. But....

tags: crack treated seriously, suspend your disbelief bc we're turning baroque works into a fucking dental mill in this jdfksjsk, using the german system bc it's all i know (regarding specialist training etc)

He's a little... difficult. He may not be able to practice anymore but he didn't stomp this office out of the ground only to hand it to some greenhorn surgeon with a fresh-off-the-press certificate - after all, he still has the license. He still has that knowledge and experience - and he knows how valuable all of that is. No, he's smart about it: hires a capable team of dentists, oral and oms surgeons - and retains the status of 'boss', expands what he already has and pretty much doubles down on work, only this time around it's more behind the scenes. Oversees procedures, advises his employees, does a whole lot of paperwork (and tax evasion), keeps the place extremely well-running and profitable. His business strategy is to cover all dental fields with his operation, so people can have a one-stop shop for everything they could ever get done... orally. Robin is the newest addition to his little roundelay - she's an oral surgeon, yes, but she has just finished her training. She has learned an awful lot during those four years of postgraduate training, but she still lacks a lot of finesse that comes with age and experience. She's one Crocodile's top-earners and he hovers an awful lot - guiding her, monitoring her surgeries, trying to help her get better - and most importantly, faster. (If you were to ask Robin - it's almost stifling but she appreciates the effort) So when you come in, an uncomfortable case of denitio difficilis with one of your lower wisdom teeth terribly close to the inferior alveolar nerve, of course he'll hold his head right into your mouth next to Robin's. He's intimdating, that's for sure - you had expected the very clinical young woman with the prim hair and cool smile coming in on her own. But there he is, right next to her: taller than average, tired but observant eyes, dressed entirely in white scrubs, with a tilt of his head that just screams 'in charge'. One look at him and you just know he doesn't joke around. You can't glean if his presence means good or bad news - and you don't care, you're in too much pain. In the end, he does very little - him and Robin lord over you from up above, that clinical light shining around their heads like a halo while you sweat and cramp and shake on the chair, the bitter taste of anesthesia on your tongue and the cracking of your own bone in your ears. He mutters instructions to her while she performs a coronectomy on you, holds your tongue to the side with the surgical hook, tells you to 'open' and not much more. It isn't easy - the anesthesia doesn't work well due to the inflammation in the area and the pain mixed with your own anxiety has you crying fat tears while the two labor - but you somehow survive it. Robin delicately weaves her stitches into your flesh and crinkles her eyes at your perseverance, just a tad out of breath. Crocodile leaves the second she's tied her last knot, not even telling you goodbye - you pay him no mind, you're just glad you're finally done with this torture. All that's left is to get the time slot for a follow-up appointment. You shuffle back to the front desk, to the skittish man sitting behind a computer, and slur out your request, tongue still numb and jaw sore. He pulls up your digital file - and almost falls off his chair. You don't quite understand what the ruckus is all about until he tells you you're no longer Robin's patient, at least not when it comes to consultations, that you'll be seeing the boss himself next time around. (And a few days later you get to brave the presence of Crocodile all on your own while he takes a long and proper look at the state of your wound.)

#more like: emotionally constipated crocodile who thinks his patient is cute and doesn't know how else to approach you other than #forcing you into one-on-ones lol #/crocodile #/one piece

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giftingproducts · 7 days ago

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deepcutbrotank · 2 years ago

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I needa rant a few things out yall. This is surly mostly for me just to process in words so: TLDR Fuck Corporate America. I’m awesome, they suck.

If you’ve been following my work saga it’s been a tough year or so and last winter during the worst of it I applied and was accepted into grad school. So I’ll be starting in the fall and I’ll give my notice in the next couple months that I’m leaving.

I was overworked and underpaid and being supervised by a rancid witch and so I made moves to leave. I was managing two cafes for 6% more than I was making before while just managing one. I worked 6 or 7 days a week often 50+ hours, while salaried. When I was offered the “temporary assignment” (specifically not promotion) I was basically told I could manage both cafes in this city or my cafe would be closed and employees laid off. In negotiating my salary I was asked if I would still take the salary I’d initially refused if it would save my employees their jobs. My boss was constantly up my ass (not in a sexy way) about any minor thing, like it had to be by the book or she’d freak. I asked for time off once and she basically threatened me with not approving future requests if the cafes couldn’t run well for my time away. Very relaxing.. We had my annual review and she told me I was underperforming across the board, but also that she could tell I was doing my best and that the situation I was placed in wasn’t fair to me. Meanwhile the cafes ran, we were always open and getting positive customer feedback and like.. just doing it. It wasn’t perfect but we (I!) was managing.

Now my new boss is delightful and my workload matches my compensation but I’m still conflictingly flattered and frustrated when I hear things like “I really appreciate you and your leadership style and commitment as of late” from my new boss. Like thank you but, my dude, you’ve known me for 4 months. I’ve been fucking killing this here for years. This is my third boss in the 3.5 years I’ve managed; They keep bringing in outside hires who know less than me and whom I then have to prove myself to anew. I just did the bar certification we have all our baristas do before they’re cleared to serve espresso drinks and I got a 112% (extra points awarded for speed). My cafe is the highest grossing in the market (we’re paired with DC) and we just broke our own all time sales records the last 3 weeks. All my staff adore me, I have some employees that I hired 3 years ago still working for me.

Idk how to wrap this up but like damn they’re gunna miss me when I’m gone.

#personal

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thrikotisoftech · 10 months ago

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caffeinejournalist23 · 2 years ago

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Suburban Nightmare The Scariest Part About Moving to the Suburbs is the Fear of Having to Move Back to the Hood

I grew up in the "hood" of Northwest Ohio and throughout my childhood I was repeatedly told by teachers and social workers "you have to have a college degree." To survive, to live a good life, or to go on vacation once a year, they never specified why we needed to have one - the adults just told us this from the third grade onward in a tone that was serious and haunted us as we clawed our way to high school graduation. Well I moved to the suburbs to pursue a college education, received my Bachelor of Arts, but then wound up jobless for the first 2.5 months after graduating, fearing that I may have to return to the life I thought I left behind in the hood.

This is what it was like.

Part 1/3: Restless

The first few days were not too bad.

I finished school on a Tuesday and had the graduation ceremony the following Saturday. Though I was anxious to begin working full time again after taking almost a month off to focus on school, I forced myself to appreciate having a few days to catch my breath after completing the toughest semester of my undergrad career - under the assumption that my boss would call me back to give me my schedule as promised.

But they never called me back.

I texted. I called. I emailed. Nothing.

I reached a supervisor in my department who promised they would make sure my employer called me once they returned from vacation, but the supervisor also warned me "if you get a new opportunity, take it, because I'm not sure what [they] are planning with you."

I texted. I called. I emailed - for weeks.

Still nothing.

Feeling scorned, neglected as an employee, and painfully confused, I knew I shouldn't go back; not only was I completely ghosted, but this happened on top of several occasions prior when I was not paid on time, not paid the proper amount, and even scammed by a company hacker. And I knew I didn't deserve the shame of going back to a place begging for employment where I had already been so mistreated.

So the job search began.

Part time. Part-time remote. Entry level. Entry level temporary. Full-time summer. Freelance. Temporary full-time summer.

The amount of key terms I came up with to expand my search for jobs ought to have earned me a certificate in SEO optimization. Within a matter of weeks I had easily applied for hundreds of jobs; some remote, some on-site, some part-time, some full-time, some freelance, some temporary.

Job applications had just one line to mention my education - school, degree, and major; I have a degree in English and Digital Media Studies. I could generalize my degree to a Bachelor's in digital communications. I minored in criminal and social justice. I took a digital photography class. I've completed course service-learning hours and internships with a variety of non-profits. I took an HTML coding class. I wrote a parody of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night. I graduated with a 3.6 GPA. I got an A+ in a digital journalism class. I wrote a 20+ page essay for my capstone that I plan to expand into a book. My second capstone was a documentary I could submit to a film festival. These extra points of academic accomplishment were bullet-listed in applications where there was a degree description space, otherwise these were only recognized and respected in my LinkedIn profile.

There wasn't enough space in the education history line to explain all of the challenges I surpassed or all of the awesome awards and accomplishments I earned while getting the degree to write in my education history. I started a student org focused on newscasting. I was the VP of our Black Student Union for 2 years and spoke on behalf of the union at a peaceful protest following the death of George Floyd. I won recognition for Student Org of the Year - twice in a row. I became the student manager of the student engagement department. I was an active member of the Latino Student Union for over 3 years. I petitioned for a town-hall meeting for students and faculty to better our DEI awareness across campus. I was invited to a one-on-one meeting with the university president. I advocated for PRISM and LGBTQ+ acceptance across our campus. I hosted and evaluated numerous surveys to better serve our campus community. I participated in a plethora of volunteer opportunities and campus events. I was an orientation leader. I was an RA. I served as a mentor to underclassmen. My name consistently appeared on the Dean's List.

Suddenly it seemed like my degree did not carry much value. Few job postings prioritized candidates with my degree type - "digital communications but a degree in marketing preferred." It's like they wanted the skills earned from my degree as part of the job description, not the qualifications. Most job postings didn't seem to value my degree at all: "remote communications strategist - degree in journalism or other related field a plus, not a requirement." I had slaved for four years; four years of 18 - 21 credit hour semesters while spear-heading a student org and working anywhere from 2 to 4 jobs at a time, and some trauma healing/family drama because the Universe likes to keep herself entertained I guess. I was the first in my family for over 4 generations to earn a college degree. I took out tens of thousands in student loans. I went to an exam on 4 hours of sleep. I closed work at 1am and went to class the next morning at 8. I had nervous breakdowns and still got my 8-page essays turned in by 11:59pm.

But none of that seemed to matter. In the eyes of employers, overcoming all of those obstacles and challenges did not reflect how I was a good candidate for their position.

The only thing employers seemed to really take into consideration was previous work experience; that shouldn't have been a problem for me, as my resume was rich with experience by having to work to pay for school anyway. I'm a previous graphic designer. I was an intern for a local newspaper. I was a full-time social media manager for one summer. I have various experience mentoring kids/students ages 14 through 19. I was a shift leader at Family Video before the pandemic made us close all our stores. I was a remote political journalist during the 2022 midterms. I've been a coffee barista and was promoted to opening shift leader after my first 30 days. I coordinated a friend's wedding. I became a freelance state manager for a remote election reporting company. I managed the student engagement department and adapted our traditional events to a virtual medium. I've filed parking permits and incident reports. I've painted yard signs. I've hosted people to their dining seats. I've supervised. I've lead. I've delegated. I've supported. I've created. And I've always worked so so hard because in any and every job I could not sleep at night unless I did my best.

The few jobs I did hear back from said they chose "a better candidate" - aka someone with more experience. Either places are preferring to hire older people who have had the chance to garner more experience after college, or getting a college degree is redundant - and that notion of my hard work, discipline, and financial sacrifices from the past four years amounting to arbitrary value was what really started to freak me out.

The college dorm I was escaping homelessness in started looking like a haunted house; the frustration and hopelessness was written in the walls. My life started getting scary. Had my hopes and dreams been built on a lie? Was college just a deferment of the demise set for me by being born and raised in poverty?

The vacancy of my roommate's absence was soon followed by my own absence of income, food, and purpose. No meal plan. No job. No savings. No fail safe. No side hustle.

And no idea what to do next.

#suburbannightmare #mundane photography #amatuer photography #photoblog #photography #poverty #inequality #hood #suburbs #psychthriller #aesthetic #series #photo series #caffeinejournalist

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the-prophesied-disco-gay · 7 months ago

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Some jobs I've worked, with my favorite parts and why I can no longer do them:

Legal Assistant:

✅️ I will sort and file and organize with such focused joy that I must be reminded by an outside source to take breaks and eat and go home at the end of the day. There were case files piled everywhere, including the floor, when I started. By week 2 everything was organized and put away. By week 5 it was all databased in the computer system too. Give me something to organize and leave me alone and I will create order like it's my religion.

✅️ I loved the flexibility and variety. Sometimes I was taking documents to the courthouse to be filed and could grab lunch at one of the little places downtown. I got to try a lot I never otherwise would have. Sometimes there was a meeting and I got to play host and make my bosses look good while having a marvelous time. I'm very good at picking up on small things and using them to great advantage, like catching a note in one case file that the client had rescheduled a deposition because of a Celiac flare up, so when they came in I made sure gluten free cookies and cupcakes had been added to the bakery order. They were shocked and thrilled to have options for them available and commented on it not only to the attorneys, but also to their friends and family. I was so happy I'd been able to make them happy. My boss responded by getting me a gift certificate to a medical massage place. My spinal problems had prevented me ever getting a massage before and he knew that, so he told me to take a day to treat myself. Not only did they appreciate that sort of consideration, they practiced it.

✅️ this one is a twofer: the paralegal working there when I started was doing some things she ought not have. Things like messing with people's food if she was mad at them or "losing" stuff out of case files if the attorney had pissed her off, despite many of these cases being life or death and the clients not being at fault at all for whatever slight she had imagined. I told on her. I caught her adding pomegranate juice to the brownie batter for the brownies being made for an office party, knowing full well the junior associate was dangerously allergic to pomegranate, because she had been reprimanded for neglecting filing deadlines on one of his cases. He didn't even do the reprimanding. Even if he had, I wasn't gonna watch him potentially die over it. Fucks sake! I warned him about the brownies and when questioned she said she "didn't believe in allergies and maybe he would learn not to mess with her." She was fired on the spot. And so I got to learn how to be a paralegal! They taught me so much, and I got to try everything that didn't legally require a degree or licensing. I got to see that they actually care about the well-being of their employees, don't tolerate ableism, and are willing to teach emoloyees and help them expand their skills and knowledge.

So why am I not still there? I would be. Even as disabled as I am, I would be. But I left for college and years later when I looked into going back into that line of work, the practice had closed with the retirement of the main 2 attorneys and job listings for everyone in the industry:

❌️ must be able to lift 50lbs?? What? Apparently "sometimes the legal assistant has to refill the printer, and what if you can't lift a box of printer paper?" I dunno, maybe store the boxes at waist level or lower so individual packs can be gotten?!? But no, this shit is literally just there to screen out disabled applicants

❌️ must own a vehicle to be able to transport files to the courts and other attorneys and the post office, as needed. Understandable, our public transport sucks. No stipend for gas or vehicle maintenance or wear and tear. ....Excuse me?

❌️ 3 sick days per year and other time off must be requested 3 months in advance. Y'all seriously cannot accomodate a legal assistant giving "only" 2 weeks warning for taking a half day for an MRI? You're so disorganized and understaffed that you can't work around 4 hours with 2 weeks notice for an employee that doesn't even appear in court? Really? No, it's more ableism.

Pre-K Teacher:

✅️ curriculum. Oh my gods curriculum my love. I've never loved any part of any job more, ever. They would say "okay next month's unit is The Savanah (or the rainforest, or space, or black history, or poetry, or or or) and I would get to plan a whole month around the theme. Art projects that would provide opportunities to teach out both the topic and art techniques. Sight word lists based around the theme. Relevant books for story time. Songs and little plays. Adding stuff to the science and reading and art and sensory stations. Incorporating learning into play and allowing exploratory play to encourage organic learning. It was so much fun and I took pictures of the room at the end of every unit, with all their decorations and projects.

✅️ I got to change kids lives. The monthly units I described above? Oh better believe I used those to help raise these kids too.

"What did we learn about lions? Who does the hunting?"

"GIRLS!"

"That's right! And how about elephants, who are the leaders?"

"GIRLS!"

"Yes! What about birds? Who's prettier?"

"BOYS!"

"They are! Do y'all remember platypuses? Which one has the vennooommm?"

"BOYS!"

"Which seahorse carries the babies?"

"THE DAD!"

"How many genders do bees have?"

"THREE!"

"Y'all are so good at this! So, sometimes girls are strong and fast, sometimes boys are pretty, sometimes girls are the bosses, sometimes boys take care of the babies, and a lot of times gender doesn't matter at all! So it seems kinda silly to make fun of someone for being "girly" or "acting like a yucky boy" doesn't it? That's not very nice and it's silly anyway. So no more of that in this classroom okay? If you see someone doing something and you think about making fun of them, remember the bees and the lions!"

And it works. Reader lemme tell ya, it truly works. I have watched a 4 year old tell a 5 year old "you're black so you should do math like the NASA ladies so you can do space stuff! I'm bad at math but I can help with snacks!" I have watched a little girl struggling with writing sitting with a nonverbal autistic girl, absolutely enthralled with the magic she is being shown as the autistic girl shows her how to make letters with individual shapes. I bought flat shape blocks for one of the activity tables and these girls were making letters out of them. She drew shapes and connected them to make letters the rest of the year. There was so much room for differences with young kids. They were so willing and eager to learn, so open to new ideas and ways of doing things.

❌️ the director was a horrible person. Harpy, shrew, Karen, that sort of woman. Worst boss I've ever had. Treated the staff like garbage and encouraged infighting.

❌️ *constantly* understaffed. Every call-in was an emergency. Staff ratios are legally mandated, so lean staffing practices are especially impactful, but that sure as shit didn't stop management from doing it.

❌️ never enough supplies and every supply request was an interrogation and a battle. I spent hundreds of my own money to make sure units could be completed for these kids

❌️ parents. Oh lawd the parents. Most of them were neutral, dropped their kids off, picked them up, listened to the brief accounting of their day and info they needed to know, left. Some were a delight, helped in the classroom, asked questions and wanted to know more about their kid's day, kept track of who their kid was friends with and what struggles they were having and which subjects they were excited about. But some parents? Some parents were a nightmare. Think a restaurant Karen dialed up to 11. Demanding special treatment for their kids, exceptions to the rules, the whole nine. One woman demanded we punish the kid her child has bitten and punched, for irritating her child enough to "force" them to get violent (by not giving up their snack at snacktime so Precious Perfect Angel Baby could have 2 snacks). These people were unbelievable.

❌️ seven dollars and fifty cents an hour. With kids lives in our hands. These people were charging each and every one of these parents hundreds per week, per child. There were 10 total teachers. Each making $7.50 an hour. They were bringing in tens of thousands per month and paying about 3k per week on the ones keeping it all going and doing all the work, at a rate of about $300 weekly pay each. And then expecting us to pay out pocket for supplies.

Housecleaning:

✅️ got to make things clean *vibrates*

✅️ got to work without interruption

✅️ got to force my OCD to make me money instead of just wrecking my life

✅️ again, things that were not clean became clean because of me. I cannot explain the rush of happy chemicals I get from making something clean. If that emotion could be bottled directly from my brain we could solve world peace.

✅️ got to set my own schedule and work at my own pace and got to keep every red cent of my pay, which I also got to choose by setting my own rates

❌️ every time the economy dips, people stop paying for stuff like housecleaning first. They tighten their belts by cleaning their own home, maintaining their own yard, and cooking their own meals. Without UBI, those industries experience a collapse every time, with severity dependant on severity of the economic downturn. I couldn't survive the lean times of that cycle and had to move on, as many do

If we had true disability protection/accomodations and UBI, not only would I work, I couldn't be stopped from doing so. I live in a disabled household and every single one of us still works and creates and does stuff, despite not working "real" jobs. People will work. People have always worked. We survived just fine for tens of thousands of years before money was even a factor in this equation. We know that. The history is right there. We know humans will survive and thrive without financial motivation. We like teaching and experimenting and making things clean and nice and easier and more fun. We like learning and creating and the satisfaction of a job well done. People love to work. People hate being forced to do anything, including by threat of starvation. Remove the compelling force and see what we can and will do.

The reason people don’t want to work is that it’s just normal for them to be in bad work environments.

My issue with working at Walmart wasn’t the work itself I was doing. It was the circumstances around it. The concrete floor, lack of places to sit, having to put up with asshole customers, not getting time off for injuries, and bad pay.

If I had been given shock pads to stand on or a few chairs to rest on sometimes, if they paid me a livable amount of money and I was allowed to yell back at asshole customers, if they had given me any amount of training, I would happily work part time folding clothes all day and telling people where the swimsuit section is.

I’m a creative type. I’m a writer. I’m pretty smart, even. But if I could make a living folding shirts and listening to podcasts in one ear and helping people find the scented candles for 30 hours a week? I would. Leaves some mental space free for me to brainstorm. Lets me catch up on my reading with audiobooks.

But instead I was treated so badly by upper management and customers that I’m like legitimately a little frightened whenever I step into a Walmart now. And I only worked there for three months a few years ago.

I’m a good lower level worker. When I’m treated well. I like finishing tasks. I like being helpful. I like having some time to talk to coworkers and some time alone with my thoughts. I’m a frickin team player. And that’s how I was at my first job. I was treated well by my supervisor. I was trained. They were patient with me. I was so good at being low on the totem pole at that job because I was valued and felt like I was being listened to. I was able to sit still when there was nothing left to do which made it feel less bad when we were on a time crunch. I didn’t mind working hard at that job because it was fun even though I was doing all the low level stuff that the supervisors didn’t want do.

But at Walmart I was like that for all of two days. Then I figured out that nobody appreciated my work and if I worked in my normal people pleasing manner I’d kill myself because their standards were high and the rewards for meeting them were low.

So I slowed down. I started avoiding customers. I started taking a lot longer to get to my breaks and to come back from them. I became worse at my job because no matter how good I was at it there would be no reward, no appreciation, and I’d just be pushed further beyond my limits.

My only level of happiness from that job came from the people who were working with me. The old ladies and my department manager who made sure I wasn’t overextending myself. The one other young man working in the clothing department who always got sent with me to unload the heavy stuff and commiserated with me about the shoulder injuries, the hurting feet we were too young to have.

But none of that was enough to make me stay. We were constantly understaffed. I was constantly abused by customers and not able to do a thing about it. I was not paid much at all. So as soon as I had enough saved up for what I was trying to do and my last semester of college was about to start I handed in my two weeks.

I would have found a way to stay if I liked that job. If I liked that job I would’ve pushed myself to my mental limits to finish college and keep that job at the same time. Heck that job could’ve been a rest from college. A place to get away from it. But I hate that job so I got out as soon as I could.

I want to work. I want enough money to live sort of comfortably. I want to have some tasks to do to give my creativity a rest. I want to be a part of something. But the way that modern corporate run work environments are set up does not give me any of the things I actually want out of a job. And I think that’s the same for millions of people right now. A lot of people would happily spend their lives as a waitress or an Uber driver or a warehouse worker or a farmhand or any other “low skill” job you can possibly think of. But with the way the world works right now those jobs are absolutely miserable. It doesn’t have to be that way. I know because I’ve had a fulfilling part time minimum wage job that I looked forward to going to every week. A job where I was listened to and allowed to sit when I needed to. I miss that job. Especially now since I’ve realized that’s not the standard. It should be. People should look forward to going to work or at the very least not get mild ptsd whenever they set foot into a Walmart.

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