#I was really struggling to find clothes that fit Lauren right

[blaithnne]

Though it’s not hugely prominent, I think Lauren’s style still has that little bit of 80s grunge influence from her teen years.

[storiesforallfandoms]

recruit ~ eric coulter;divergent

word count: 2602

request?: yes!

“Yay in so happy you'll do divergent pics! I've fallen down mainly an Eric x reader hole. Could you do something cute and fluffy with Eric pleaseee. He may be a jerk but I love him so much “

description: the newest member of the dauntless faction finds herself drawn to her brutal trainer

pairing: eric coulter x female!reader

warnings: swearing, slight mentions of a toxic home life

masterlist

The wind whipped around me, tangling my bright yellow dress around me. My heart jumped to my throat as I expected to land on the cold, hard ground. I was starting to regret my choice. Even if the aptitude test said I was Dauntless, I should’ve stayed in Amity. Being here, they were going to kill me!

I almost let out a cry of relief when I felt a net underneath me, catching me from falling further down the what looked like bottomless abyss. I crawled to the edge of the net, my whole body still shaking. The initiates trainer waiting for me was full of tattoos, had his hair shaved on the sides, and had a piercing through his eyebrow. He looked like the poster child for Dauntless, and if he didn’t look so young, I would think he was the Dauntless leader.

He eyed my clothes with a raised eyebrow. “Did you fall into the wrong faction?”

I shook my head. “No, I chose Dauntless.”

“An Amity choosing to be Dauntless? Interesting,” he noted. “What’s your name, Pansycake.”

I winced at the Dauntless nickname for Amity before responding, “(Y/N).”

“Even sounds like an Amity name,” he muttered before turning to the rest of the initiates who had already jumped and announced, “Our next jumper, (Y/N)!”

He roughly pulled me from the net just in time for another initiate to come flying down from the building. Once all the initiates had jumped, we followed our trainers into the Dauntless city. I marvelled at the place, I had never seen where the Dauntless lived before. Not even in pictures really. Understandably so, Dauntless and Amity weren't exactly the closest of factions.

“Dauntless initiates, you’ll follow Lauren. New initiates will come with me,” the trainer who had caught us said. “We won’t start your training tonight, but we’ll get you settled away and show you around.”

The initiates broke in half and the newbies followed our leader around the city. I took this moment to look around and take in my fellow new Dauntless members. There was a number of blue bodies (the Erudite), few black and white (the Candor), but of course no grey (the Abnegation) and only one yellow, me.

We were finally led to the room where the initiates would be staying. Our leader turned to us before allowing us to enter.

“Before you really get into this,” he started, “I have to warn you that the Dauntless training is not an easy task. Just because you’re new to the faction doesn’t mean we’ll be taking it easy on you. We’ll be training you just as hard as we train our Dauntless initiates. If you don’t measure up, if you step out of line, if you refuse to keep going after we’ve told you to, you’re out. No ifs, ands, or buts. If we don’t think you’re cut out to be Dauntless, you’re done. If anyone wants to leave now, we recommend you do so you don’t waste our time.”

I pretended not to see the eyes darting towards me before quickly looking away. Instead, I held the trainer’s eye contact. He was definitely being less subtle about thinking I was going to fail, but the joke was on him. His doubt in me was only going to push me more, to make me want to pass and become a full Dauntless member. I wasn’t going to fail, not if I had anything to do with it.

When no one stepped away or responded, he spoke again, “Good. Now, go rest. We start right after breakfast tomorrow morning. You’re all gonna want to be well rested and ready to go.”

~~~~~~

Despite how hard I tried, I just couldn’t sleep. I was staring at the ceiling for hours, listening to my fellow initiates sleeping heavily around me. I couldn’t stop thinking of the day before, when I chose Dauntless. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see my parents faces. Part of me wished I’d open them again and it would just be the day before the ceremony, and all of this would be some sort of nightmare, but of course that didn’t happen.

I gave up trying to sleep. I silently pulled myself up out of the bed and slipped on the jet black Dauntless clothes that were provided for us. They were a little tight, but it seemed like that was the Dauntless way, too.

I silently creeped out of the room, making sure I didn’t wake any of the other initiates, or that none of them got up to follow me. The last thing I needed was some Candor or Erudite trying to prove themselves early by attacking the Amity. I had heard stories like that before.

I walked to the chasm that we had been shown on our tour of the Dauntless city. Although I could hear the water crashing down below, it still felt like yet another bottomless abyss. Looking down into it made me feel dizzy, but I swallowed my fear and sat myself up on the railing around it. I wasn’t going to pass the initiation if I backed away from my fears now.

“What are you doing up, Pansycake?”

I turned to see the trainer from earlier approaching me. Instead of shying away at the nickname, I scowled at him.

“You can’t call me that,” I said. “I’m Dauntless now, like you.”

“Technically you’re not. You haven’t passed initiation yet. You could be factionless by this time tomorrow.”

I scoffed. “I’m sure you’d like that, but I won’t be. I intend on passing the initiation, with flying colours if that's possible.”

“Watch it, you’re starting to sound Erudite.”

He pulled himself up onto the railing next to me with ease. He sat so close I could almost feel the warmth from his skin. I tried to repress the shiver that was coming up my spine.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” he tried again.

I shrugged. “Just couldn’t sleep. I figured getting to know my possible new home would be better than laying in bed all night. Besides, maybe the fresh air will knock me out.”

“Or the fear of the Chasm will.”

I was trying my best to avoid looking down into the Chasm, but as he mentioned it I couldn’t help but letting my eyes flicker down. Sitting on the railing, I could finally see the bottom, and I could see that it was full of sharp rocks. I felt my stomach lurch and my head begin to spin, but I couldn’t prove weakness now. I simply looked back up at him.

“It’s not that scary,” I said, hoping my voice sounded as even as I wanted it to.

He snorted. “You’re really trying, Pansycake, aren’t you?”

“Stop calling me that,” I hissed. “Even if I fail the initiation, I won’t be Amity anymore. I’ll be factionless, which means that no matter what, I am not Amity, which means I am not a Pansycake.”

He put his hands up in surrender. “Okay, geez. Calm down kid, I’m just trying to have some fun with you. We’ve never had an Amity initiate before, this is all new to us.”

“I’m not a kid,” I huffed. “Not to you anyways, you look like you’re close to my age.”

“I’m 18,” he said. “But I’m still your superior, which means you’re still a kid in my eyes.”

I sighed, frustrated, and rolled my eyes. I was getting sick of this guy. And now I had to train under him? It was going to be a brutal few weeks.

“So, what did your people think when you chose Dauntless?” he asked. “I can’t imagine the peaceful being angry like ever, but I also can’t see them being too happy that one of their own chose violence over peace.”

I looked down into the Chasm, the nauseous feeling starting to subside. Falling down this Chasm would’ve been much easier than having to relive the day before, where I betrayed my parents and my faction by choosing Dauntless over Amity.

“It’s not like no one has ever chosen to leave Amity,” I responded. “It’s just...a lot of them tend to go to Abnegation or Candor. Selflessness is seen as the closest thing to peacefulness, and the Amity also value truth over everything else. I went into my test thinking I’d come out as one of those. I always followed by what my parents taught me, what the faction taught all of us. I thought it was simple that I would get one of those three factions.”

“But you didn’t.” His voice was no longer harsh and teasing. It was light, almost understanding. I wondered if my brutal initiation trainer was a born Dauntless.

“When the test ended, the woman who administered it to me was shocked. She was also Amity, a family friend, actually. She kept looking over the results, muttering to herself that they must be wrong. Of course, to me, worst case scenario was I didn’t test for any faction. That I was some freak who would never fit into any of the factions, that I was meant to just be factionless for life. But when I asked her what my results were, she looked at me and said, ‘Dauntless’.”

He let out a bark of laughter. “Really? She was panicking because you were Dauntless?”

“The Amity seem to think that if one of their own is tested as Dauntless, then they somehow taught that person wrong. I’m sure you can vouch for the fact that there are very few Amity born Dauntless. I mean, I’m the only initiate from Amity here. It’s as rare as an Abnegation testing for Dauntless. Of course, me being the first one in who knows how long, it was a big deal. I didn’t tell my parents, I begged her not to, either. She struggled with the decision, but said she wouldn’t as she isn’t allowed to anyways.”

“So they found out at the ceremony.”

I nodded. “I kept saying I couldn’t tell them what my results were, and that they’d know by the time I chose. They were so excited that they had themselves convinced I had gotten Amity. Or maybe they were just nervous about losing their only child that they had to convince themselves that they wouldn’t. When I dropped my blood onto the Dauntless coals...I swear, I could hear my parents hearts break.”

Well, I could hear my mother’s anyways. My father...I could already hear the angry yelling. I was glad I had been whisked away before they had the chance to really say anything to me.

“What was their reactions?” he asked. I was so lost in thought I had forgotten he was there for a moment.

“Mom is a born Amity, so she understood. She cried a lot and hugged me so tightly it felt like she was crushing every bone in my body, but she understood that if I tested for Dauntless, that I should choose Dauntless...my father on the other hand...he didn’t even hug me goodbye. His face was so red with anger, I was sure if I was there another moment he would’ve yelled at me.”

“That doesn’t sound very peaceful of him.”

I looked down at my lap. Did I tell this complete stranger, that had done nothing but taunt me since I got here, the biggest secret of my family? What exactly could he do? It wasn’t illegal what my father did, just wrong. The worst that could happen, maybe he became factionless. Maybe that’s what he deserved.

“My father isn’t a born Amity,” I revealed. “He didn’t even test for Amity. He’s from Dauntless, tested for Dauntless, but chose Amity.”

He looked at me with wide eyes, disbelief written all over his face. “What? Why would he...no one ever does that. Especially not a born and tested Dauntless. They’d choose Erudite, maybe even Abnegation before Amity.”

“Apparently he was just in love with my mom,” I responded. “They met in school, they were the same age. The day they got tested, they met up with one another in private to discuss the results. When they found out they had been tested for their own factions, they were both disappointed thinking they’d never see each other again. The day of their choosing ceremony, my dad chose Amity to be with my mom. He’s good at pretending to be peaceful in public but...when he was angry...he was angry. He always took it out on me and mom, but because mom is a born Amity she doesn’t do anything about it to keep the peace. I feel so terrible for having to leave her behind, but I had to get away from him.”

“You chose faction over blood, as you’re meant to,” he said. “At least you’re out of there.”

I didn’t realize I had been crying until he touched my face. I jerked away at first, until I realized he was using this thumb to wipe the tears from my eyes. I was happy to be away from my father, but I hated having to leave my mother. I wished nothing more than to go back and get her, to somehow sneak her into Dauntless, but I knew this wasn’t the place for her. She loved Amity, and, despite how he was, she loved my father. She was so caring, so selfless - a true Amity.

“You’re pretty tough for an Amity girl,” he told me. “Standing up against your father by choosing the faction you tested for over the one he probably threatened you to stay in. That takes guts.”

I scoffed through my tears. “More like cowardice. I was looking for a way out, not looking to stay true to what I tested for.”

“But getting away from that scenario is tough, whether you want to believe it or not. You got guts, kid. I think you’ll make it here.”

I smiled and wiped my face dry using the sleeves of my shirt. “My name is (Y/N). You can call me that, you know. We’ll be equals once I pass the initiation.”

He laughed. “And there’s the cocky attitude. You’ll definitely be a great Dauntless. Since you’re so hellbent on being equals, you can call me Eric, but only in private. Don’t want the other initiates knowing we’ve gotten close or else they may think I’m playing favourites.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You think we’re close?”

“I think I’d like to get close.”

My face heated up at his words and I had to look away. I was grateful for the gust of wind that blew at that moment, cooling me down.

“I’d like that, too,” I decided. I put a hand over my mouth to stifle the yawn that came suddenly.

“Tired now?” I sheepishly nodded. Eric jumped off of the railing and offered me a hand. He helped me down, making sure I was safe on the ground before letting me go. “We have training after breakfast tomorrow. Come find me in the dining room, I’ll be sat with the other trainers and the Dauntless initiates. You’ll be seen as pretty daring sitting with us.”

I smiled and nodded, stifling another yawn as I did so. Eric laughed and wished me a goodnight before heading back towards his own home. I watched him go for some time before I excitedly hurried back to the initiate room, but trying not to make the excitement seem so obvious. Maybe I would like being a Dauntless after all.

[cockasinthebird]

I will PAY you to write that ice skater/hockey player au, omg

Dear Anon, I wanted to post this yesterday, but I wasn’t home all day; hope you see this and know that I enjoyed writing every bit of it, love you!

It's 5am when Steve pulls up to the skating rink. He's been awake since 4 o'clock, had a healthy breakfast of yogurt topped with fresh berries and nuts, drank several cups of coffee, not counting the one currently sitting in the BMW's cup-holder.

When he finds time in the mornings to practice before school, he wears a pair of tight joggers pants on top of his racer-back unitard, because more than once has he been late for school due to how caught up he gets in his training, and quickly learned to wear something that can fit underneath jeans and a polo when there's no time for a shower.

Yeah it's 5am in the fucking morning, the sun hasn't even started peeking out from the pine tree horizon, and Steve sighs with exasperation as he recognizes a distinct blue camaro parked as the only other car here that doesn't belong to the faculty.

Two months ago, Billy Hargrove and his little family had moved to town. The two of them had never really spoken to one another yet, but apparently he made quite the impression at Tina's Halloween party when he did a keg stand and beat someone's record; Steve doesn't care, doesn't drink.

No his coach has him on a pretty strict life schedule. Eat this, wear that, practice every day like your life depends on it. And honestly? It feels like it does. Because Steve knows he's not exactly “book smart” or whatever, but becoming an Olympic figure skater is something far more feasible than him getting into any college.

So he puts on his expensive, dark green Ralph Lauren overcoat, grabs his bag with skates and a change of clothes, then leaves the warmth of his car to trudge through tall snow.

Steve walks straight from the front hall and into the rink, drops his bag with a loud thud onto a bench, and follows right along to sit down and tear off his untied boots still adorned with thick snow, just to swiftly replace them with his skates and lace them up nice and tight.

He stands up and looks around, breathes calmly so that it wouldn't interfere with how attentively he listens for even one single sound in the whole building, lifts his head in hopes of getting a better look around. He saw the fucking car, Billy's car, and that can only mean that he's somewhere around, but... it's completely silent; dead as the grave and empty like school on a Sunday.

But why would he even be here? At the Hawkins Ice Rink? Maybe he's just parked there because it's conveniently close to some other destination, such as... it doesn't matter.

What matters is the ice, freshly resurfaced and ready to taste the steel of Steve's polished skates, the blade sharp enough to cut through wood in one simple swoop.

He stands up, walks with perfected practice to where carpet changes to ice, pulls the headband from his neck and into his hair, and-

Smoothly pushes off, gently over the frozen water, white and shiny.

There is an instant satisfaction; a serene bliss that brings him from the dark and gloomy life he leads with a disgruntled dad and homophobic slurs, into the light of what his future will be, filled with gold medals and roses at his feet, fans cheering in the stands as the judges holds up 10 10 10's across the board, so far away from shitty little Hawkins, Indiana, to the Olympics in France, Italy, Switzerland, Japan, who knows where to next.

Feels the wind in his hair as he picks up the speed, hears how his blades cuts through the ice below, and if he closes his eyes he's convinced that this is what flying must feel like, what true freedom is. To move effortlessly, to soar.

And he opens his eyes then, to gaze over his shoulder as he does an easy turn to glide across the rink backwards. He moves towards the middle, picking up speed, hair whipping back, and he lifts up his foot, jumps majestically into the air, arms pulled close as he twirls around like a ballerina with wings, then lands back on the same foot, continuing across the ice.

A perfect triple toe loop.

He knows very well how beautiful that looks. Sure it's an easy jump, nothing that will win him any prizes, but it has become such an effortless thing now that it feels incredibly freeing.

Transitions with no stuttering movement into a simple camel spin; one leg extended into the air in parallel form with the ice and his torso at the same level, forming a tight T with his body as he turns around himself with the world in a pretty blur before his eyes.

But he nearly loses all balance, as a voice echoes loudly-

“What the fuck are you doing here, Harrington?”

And Billy stands by the edge of the rink, leaning against the railing, a wry grin cut across his face, mullet tied back in a bun. He's dressed head to toe in hockey gear, his helmet in hand.

Steve's heart beats so hard and fast that it's beyond painful. Slightly breathless from his warm up, mouth open and hands on his hips. He has competed several times in front of a full audience, worn clothes tighter than these, yet he has never felt so unnecessarily exposed before.

“What does it look like I'm doing?” he shouts back and rolls his eyes, wanting to ignore the brute laughing at him, but his gaze falls right back to where Billy now pushes onto the ice.

There's a safe distance between them now, but Billy continues moving closer, so Steve starts moving away, backwards still with his hands firmly on his hips.

“How long were you staring for?”

Their pace is calm as Billy follows right in Steve's tracks.

“What? Think I been standin' there admiring the view?” his tone mocking, grin just so, but the way his tongue darts out is almost... suggestive? “I went to get in gear, and when I come back there's some fairy prancing around on the ice here.”

“Didn't know our school has a hockey team.” Steve decides to let the remark slip, but that's become such an easy thing from bullies like this Californian trash bag.

“We don't. But there's a local club that plays a few times a month, and basket gets boring quick when you're this good at it.” Billy lowers his brow and his grin grows wicked. “Hockey is much more... brutal.”

And he picks up the pace. Steve too, but Billy doesn't stop; continues to go faster, now so close that Steve can see just how clear blue those eyes are, pinned to his own honeyed brown.

Billy gives Steve a crude shove with his shoulder as he passes him by; sending the figure skater spinning a few times before he's now the follower, and Billy sticks out his tongue between shiny teeth as he notices Steve giving chase.

Faster again till their hair starts dancing in the wind, and with long, gracious strides, Steve's up next to where Billy is grinning something so dangerously. And the brunette can't help but smile as well, although less maniacally so.

“You got a shitty form, Hargrove,” Steve says as he scans the way Billy's slightly hunched over, legs all too far apart, elbows out.

“Oh so you are looking then?” Billy laughs and winks with those thousands of eyelashes.

And Steve feels himself nearly smile as wide as all the girls do when Billy turns his charm their way.

“Hockey isn't about being all queer and graceful, it's about being tough with a low center of gravity.”

Ignoring the slur, Steve asks, “You think I'm 'graceful'?” and grins all cocky.

But Billy's own lips fall from where they were curled around his mustache. “Yeah, like a fucking girl.”

“And you don't like girls?” Steve laughs now, and the sudden anger in Billy's eyes only makes it even more amusing.

“I do,” his tone is flat.

“Then I'll take it as a compliment.” Steve is almost convinced he catches a nervous smile on Billy's lips at those words, but the jock speeds up before he's too sure.

And Steve does too, faster even, surpassing Billy far enough so that he can safely make a sudden curve in front of him. Loves the little shocked “fuck!” as Billy brakes.

Steve then turns to look at the hockey player, who's smiling and following along with rampant speed, something that will hurt if he could get to slam into Steve, but with grace he swerves out of the way of the raging bull.

Billy shaves the ice when he makes a recklessly sharp turn, and aims for Steve once more with his tongue out and wagging, eyes wide with intent.

A smile spreads on Steve's face at how eager Billy continues being with this little dance they're doing, and sets off towards him. Sweat is starting to form on his brow, and maybe his thighs and hips are quivering slightly, but this is so exhilarating and fun.

Billy braces himself for collision, and Steve bends forward, their eyes frozen together in an intense stare in a game of chicken. But seconds before they would have broken each others noses no doubt, Steve slips aside once more with a flourish.

Yet feels a hand grip on to his own, as Billy makes a shocking smooth curve around to reach for Steve's hand, but with no preparation between either of them for such a move, they spin out of control for a few short seconds, both of them struggling on uncertain feet to find a common rhythm, before they fall onto the ice.

The hit Steve takes to the back of his head hurts all the way in his teeth, and his entire face pinches together in a pained grimace. He knows this is going to turn into a headache that will last him for the rest of his day. Lying still with exhaustion and pain on the chilled ground, he feels air blowing across his skin, and when he opens his eyes...

Billy's only inches away. Out of breath, panting with an open mouth and a near terrified look in his pale eyes, as he stares down at Steve, hands on either sides of a quickly reddening face.

They share air in silence for far too long before Billy says, “In hockey, always predict your opponents moves.” And he stands up.

Steve raises up on his elbows as he watches Billy slowly skate away, something so hesitant about his moves now, no more macho bravado to his posture.

But he stops with a hand on the glass of the rink, and looks over his shoulder at where Steve remains floored. This far away, he can't tell his expression, but can clearly hear the words-

“See you next time, pretty boy.”

[into-control]

submission:

Welcome to the Complicated Love Story of Camren

First let me say that in order to understand the album you have to have an idea of their history to get the story because trust me there is one. You have to have a sharp mind because if your thinking is surface based then stanning a closeted artist or/and a secret relationship might not be for you because not everything is gonna be as obvious as "mmm green eyes" you have to look beyond so with that being said let's get right into it😏.

Shameless- we start with Camila begging Lauren to give them a chance to fuck everyone else and their opinions on where or not this is right or wrong spoiler alert she did;

Living Proof- which brings us to track two. Camila dived in head first like this bitch is so whipped that she's literally thanking God for sending her this angel😂;

Should've said it- but unfortunately that didn't last long because while Lauren was kissing her behind close doors she was screaming no homo in public guess she wasn't as shameless has Camila thought she would be so baby C end it💔

My Oh My- but these bitches were still hooking up even though they weren't together and sinu and Ale did not like it one bit also Camila I did not need to know about Lauren's insatiable habits but i guess she got that Latin passion😏

Señorita- yes I touched forbidden territory but in order to understand the story you got to listen to the entire album so no skips you jerks. I hate to say it but señorita fits and it also proves its her song because like stated in the previous track they were still hooking up but weren't a couple. "I know I should be running but you keep me coming for you" C knows L isnt gonna claim her in public but she can't help but continue "the fucking cycle" (see what I did there😀)

Liar- these bitches still hooking up but Camila was starting to build her walls up no longer did baby wanted to be just a warm body for Lauren to use as she pleases but she couldn't she couldn't deny the Jauregui effect (I mean who could) "so the clothes are on the floor". Note: I wasn't paying attention to the tracklist while listening but based on the previous two songs I predicted that liar was the next song and I kinda lost it when I found out I was right😆

Bad kind of Butterflies- just like in the shameless video we see Camila in the confessional booth confessing her sins to someone but who? I agree this is a coming out song but I don't think its to her parents because she already mentioned them in track 4 so seems like they knew what's up. My top two guesses are Mercedes, her grandmother or Sofia (I'm leaning more towards Sofi)

Easy- listening to it with the rest of the songs I see this as a reconciliation/reassurance song. Seems like Lauren's inconsistence in the beginning stirred up alot of doubts in Camila so when Lo said she was ready to try again C asks her to prove it but Camila's love languages are touch and affirmation so that explains these lyrics "touch me till I find myself, in a feeling tell me with your hands that you're never leaving". Lauren had finally accepted her sexuality and was finally ready to commit to Camila;

Feel it twice- but once again it just wasn't meant to be😒. This time it was Lauren who initiated the break up. Personally I don't think there's third party here but if there was it didnt sound serious so might have been one of C's hook ups but what we can see is they are both hurting and Lauren was trying to win her back but Camila was just to heartbroken to try again;

Dream of you- here we have Camila reflecting on the happier times they shared and it seems like she was contemplating whether not to give Lauren a second chance;

Cry for me- but Lauren had given up hope for them and "moved on" (its in quotations because I'm not sure if she really moved on for a short period of time or if its one of her PRs) but all I know mija wasn't hurting like in feel it twice or reflecting like in dream of you she was mad how dare lauren stop chasing her and "move on" with someone else but C wouldn't let lauren see her broken so she told her she was happy for her even though she didn't mean it;

This Love- *sigh* at this point I was crying partly because of the song but mostly because I was fucking exhausted and wanted off the Camren rollercoaster (damn it was toxic) but anyways here we have her telling Lauren just to set her free or hold on to her for dear life because like me the bitch was tired and it seems Lauren said all the right things and hit the right spots😏 because Here we fucking go again.

Used to this- a new beginning; seems like things have changed for the better but because of their history Camila is a little hesitant to dive in head first again so she asks Lauren for a minute so she can get used to their new chapter but she's definitely liking what she sees and is almost ready to meet her half way

First man- this is suitable as the last song it has a ending of one chapter to the start of a next kinda vibe. She's telling her dad and sinu that she's ready to build her life with Lo and even though it was a rocky start they are in a much better place now and are fully committed to each other so they can trust that Lauren won't hurt her again and no matter how old she gets or how far she goes she'll always be their little girl and will always come home but with a plus one

The End😅

I don't know about you but that was quite the story we had love, jealousy, loss, fear, pain and even lust to put it simple we had Romance. Romance isnt just about love hell not even love itself is just about love; its about those little ingredients stated above and more mixed together to create one of the most intense feelings in the world. Its the sweaty palms, the heart palpitations, the broken heart so severe that it physical pains you think about that person that holds you heart, the uncontrollable tears, the bliss of falling so deeply for someone, the ecstasy you feel when you become one with the person you love and the fight whether its the small or big arguments or just fighting those close to you for the love you share with "the one" no matter if its acceptable or not. That's love bitch

Underthatimperssion gave the best advice to listen the album with shameless in mind because there's a reason its track 1 everything ties back to that song. Coming out was a big theme but it wasn't Camila's coming out it was Lauren's or her refusal to do it which explains the religious theme and the Greek myth visuals, homosexuality isnt that taboo in Greek myth and that is why Camila is a Greek goddess because unlike the religious lauren she did not struggle as much with her sexuality (god I love her mind fucking genius).

CC1 was good but that was the tip of the iceberg, this album is a lot more mature and detailed it pretty much confirmed all the theories we created along this journey and damn it feels good to be on point.

Honestly they were doom from the start with Lauren's denial and shouldn't have gotten together but "its being in a relationship that from the outside to everyone it looks toxic and you guys shouldn't be together but its about that conversation in that relationship you guys kind of overcome it" and as long as those two want to be together and are willing to fight for their love then I will go done with this ship. Thank you Camila for this masterpiece bravo 👏👏

[alarawriting]

2019 Inktober 29: Injured

Nightmare Before Christmas extension!

It began when you were 10. You were over Lisa’s house for her birthday, and she received a doll as a gift from her grandparents. Lisa was not known for her graciousness. “Euw! This doll is so creepy!” she complained, pushing it away from herself.

“Let me see,” you said, and Lisa gave you the creepy doll, which in your opinion wasn’t creepy at all. It was a blonde little girl with very large eyes, mouth partially open and visible teeth, rosy cheeks and pale skin.

“That doll is vintage,” Lisa’s grandmother complained. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong is that this doll is ugly and creepy and weird and I don’t want it!”

“I do,” you said. “I think she’s pretty.”

“Well, then,” Lisa’s grandmother said, “Courtney can have the doll.” She smiles benevolently on you. “Go on, dear. You can keep the doll.”

You smiled graciously. “Thank you!” you said, knowing Lisa had just angered her parents and grandparents by being so ungrateful. You wanted to make them feel better. “I know Lisa just gets weirded out by dolls sometimes. She didn’t mean to be rude.”

From Lisa’s glowering expression, it was obvious that she had meant to be rude, but you’d given her an out and now that her initial reaction was past and she knew she didn’t have to keep the doll, it seemed like she’d realized the tactical error she’d made. “I’m sorry, Grandma.  Courtney’s right, I kinda get scared of dolls sometimes.”

“Well, what a stupid thing to be afraid of,” Lisa’s grandmother said, but she was plainly somewhat mollified. “Here. Since you apologized, I’ll give you some money for your birthday.” She fished a five dollar bill out of her wallet. “That doll was worth a lot more than this, but I suppose this is what you’d rather have.”

“Thank you, Grandma!” Lisa said, and the birthday party went on as scheduled.

The doll was quite old, so she needed an old-fashioned name, but one that sounded nice. “Her name is Betty,” you told Lisa’s grandmother later. “She’s really pretty. I’m sorry Lisa was so mean about it.”

“I am too. That child can be so ungrateful sometimes.”

“I’ve been telling Betty that Lisa didn’t mean to be so mean, she just had a bad reaction because she’s scared of dolls. Betty understands, but she’s glad she’s going home with me instead. Dolls don’t like to live with girls who don’t like them.”

“You understand,” Lisa’s grandmother said, nodding. “Dolls have feelings too. They deserve to be with girls who’ll love them.”

“Did you have a doll who looked like this when you were young?"

Her eyes welled with unshed tears. “I did. I lost her when we moved. I’ve been checking antique stores and thrift stores for years, hoping to find her.”

“What was yours named?”

“Eleanor. I named her for a queen, Eleanor of Acquitaine. Have you heard of her?”

You said no, so Lisa’s grandmother – whose actual name was Mrs. Shapiro – talked your head off about kings and queens of England for half an hour before you got a chance to go play.

***

Once you were home, headed up the stairs to your room, Betty complained. “Lisa’s ugly. And mean.”

“She didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. She’s actually a very nice person. She just… is scared of dolls.” You shifted Betty in your arms so instead of lying in them like a baby, she was facing outward, her back against your chest and your arm around her middle, so she could see the others. When you opened the door, you gestured at your other dolls, the ones on your bookshelves and on your dresser. “Hello, everyone! This is Betty!”

“Hi, Betty!” the dolls chorused.

“She’s the newest addition to our family, so I was thinking we could have a tea party to welcome her.”

“Great idea!” Mandy cheered.

So you got out the tea set, and arranged all the dolls on the floor, and the dolls who didn’t get tea cups because your tea set wasn’t that big, you gave mugs or glasses from your play kitchen, and you put plastic desserts from the toy kitchen on everyone’s plates.

“This is delicious,” Kyla said. “Did you make it yourself?”

You laughed. “Oh, no, no, it’s store bought! I’m a terrible cook.”

“You got that right,” Veronica, who was sometimes kind of a jerk, said.

“Oh, oh, wow! Veronica, you’ve got to be best friends with the new girl!” Eric said. He had been a girl when you got him, but you thought it was unfair to have nothing but girl dolls, so you hacked off all his hair and put clothes on him from a GI Joe you found in the mud near the playground, although they didn’t really fit. “Betty and Veronica! Like the Archie comics!”

“Archie is stupid,” Veronica said, but mellowed a bit. “But it’s very nice to meet you, Betty.”

“We’re going to be great friends, I just know it!” Mandy said.

Betty started to almost-cry the way Mrs. Shapiro had. “You guys,” she said. “This has been the best day of my life.”

***

One day Mrs. Shapiro brought you six more dolls while you’re over Lisa’s house. They were all vintage, and they were all damaged, from the one whose hair was falling off to the one with one eye that wouldn’t open to the one with a cloudy white film on her eyes. “Courtney, would you be interested in these?”

“Were they yours?”

She nodded. “I think they deserve to go with a girl who will play with them. I was going to give them to Lisa, but…”

“Yeah, Lisa won’t want them. But I love them! What are their names?”

Mrs. Shapiro said some of the names and visibly struggled to remember the others. You asked her, “Why don’t you play with them anymore?”

“Well, I’m a grown woman. Grown-up women don’t play with dolls.”

“But you could if you wanted to.”

“I suppose I could, but it would be a little embarrassing.” She chuckled.

“I could bring over my tea set and some dolls and you could play dolls with me. I want to know your dolls’ personalities. It’d be rude to tell them to be completely different people just because someone new owns them.”

“I never thought of it that way.”

In the end, you went over Mrs. Shapiro’s house yourself for the tea party, which Lisa thought was weird but Lisa could think whatever she wanted. Mrs. Shapiro put out a real-life tea set and filled the cups with Kool-aid, which was more verisimilitude than you’d ever managed. During the tea party she did voices for all the dolls, Hortensia who couldn’t keep her eye open and Emily who was losing her hair and Birdie who was going blind and Renee who had no clothes, just a washcloth around her body with safety pins holding it in place and Michelle who had one shoe and Lauren who kept falling over when she was put in a sitting position. You were very grateful; it really helped to know how the dolls sounded, their voices and personalities as well as their names.

And when you saw that now you had six dolls who were injured or lacking in some way, you realized what you wanted to do.

You went to Girl Scouts to learn to sew, because Mrs. Shapiro claimed to be terrible at it and wouldn’t teach you, and your own grandma worked and didn’t have time. You told the librarian about your quest, and she ordered you a book from another library about repairing dolls. It was intended for adults, and you were nine, but you used a dictionary and struggled through it because you needed to know. Your dad suggested that rubbing alcohol on a q-tip might help Birdie’s eyes. Birdie was so very grateful to you for restoring her sight.

After that, your parents would give you thrift store dolls, broken-down dolls who needed love and care as much as the pretty new dolls at the toy stores, for every birthday and Christmas, because you told them emphatically that that was what you wanted. “No one loves the ugly dolls or the broken dolls or the creepy dolls. They need someone to take care of them. They need love.”

And you had so much love to give.

***

Twenty years later you learned the hard way that a shop that fixes dolls doesn’t make any money. You branched into selling high-end, high-quality toys, as well as continuing to collect and fix up vintage dolls. You sewed beautiful new clothes for them and re-glued their hair and re-attached their arms and legs. You carefully removed their eyes and polished them, attached new weights to the eyelids to enable them to open and close, and sometimes heated and re-shaped the eyes in hot water so they would fit properly in their sockets again.

You sold the dolls to any child, or any adult buying for a child, who wanted one and was willing to pay your prices, which weren’t cheap after you’d done so much restoration work. But when the day was over and you’d done the receipts and closed the books and swept the shop and locked up, you took the dolls upstairs to your living space with you, and you played with them, because dolls deserved to be played with.

Men who found out about this hobby of yours found it weird and unpleasant, so none of your relationships lasted more than a few dates. You weren’t close enough to any of your friends for them to find out. You had pen pals, fellow doll aficionados, all over the world, but you wouldn’t admit even to them that you played with your dolls. By this time you had so many that you couldn’t possibly play with them all every night, which was part of the reason you’d been willing to part with some of them back when you’d opened the store. But you did your best to make sure they were going to good homes.

***

Forty years later the internet had nearly destroyed you, and then saved you.

It became so easy to buy vintage dolls, you overbought. You took on employees to help you repair them, but they didn’t love the dolls like you did, so they didn’t stay your employees. Then people stopped buying from the store because it was so easy to get even vintage toys online, at much better prices than you could afford to sell at. You sold through online channels yourself, but it wasn’t enough.

You expanded your offerings to hand-crafted children’s furniture and toys, working with artisans you met at a Renaissance faire or online, reselling their work. And you moved the doll repair business online. It turned out that the number of people willing to send their beloved childhood friend to a total stranger through the mail and pay a lot of money to have her restored was much higher than you’d guessed. You picked up more employees, this time to run the store so that you could work full-time on doll repair.

Fifteen years ago you’d gotten a cat, but she died of old age, and you didn’t replace her. Your doll friends weren’t immortal – you’d had porcelain-headed dolls shatter, you’d had to reluctantly tell heartbroken women that their childhood toy had been mauled too heavily by a dog to be saved – but when age damaged them, it could be fixed. They weren’t doomed to die like living creatures were.

You made sure to make time to play with the dolls every night, no matter how busy you got. Sometimes you hardly had time to do anything but choose a lucky few, dress them in nightgowns and caps for their hair, and take them to bed with you, but you always did at least that.

***

And then there was the day you heard a violent crash downstairs.

You were a woman living alone. You tried not to live in fear, but you knew you were vulnerable. The sound terrified you, so you called the police, and stayed upstairs behind your bolted bedroom door with two or three of your favorite dolls reassuring you, until the cops arrived.

They called you downstairs to see what you knew.

The man had had duct tape on him, and rope, and a knife. You were somewhat shocked that anyone would target you for such a thing, at your age, but the cops tell you that it was probably your age that drew the guy’s attention. He must have assumed you couldn’t defend yourself.

You could not explain why he was lying dead in a giant pile of dolls, his eyes punctured, his throat bruised, his neck broken. You hadn’t left your room. It was more than obvious that a small middle-aged woman couldn’t have done the kind of damage to the dead man that had killed him; the best anyone could guess was that he’d tripped over a rack of dolls and fallen on them so hard that hard plastic hands had jabbed his eyes out and then he’d broken his neck in the fall. But you knew better. The cops couldn’t possibly understand, but you did.

“Thank you,” you said to all the dolls, the creepy dolls you hadn’t yet repaired and the ones that you had and yet children still called them creepy, the pretty vintage dolls and the modern dolls that had needed repair. “Thank you,” you said, weeping over the body of a porcelain doll that had broken, but she was the only casualty. Others had damaged hands and some had crushed plastic bodies and quite a lot of them had their clothes ruined by blood, but those were all things you could repair. “Thank you all so much. You saved me.”

“You’re our mother,” one of the dolls said.

“You saved me,” another doll, a repaired doll, said.

“We love you. We’ll never let anyone hurt you.”

You gathered your precious, precious dolls to you and hugged them, and cried. Oh, your dollies, all your beautiful dollies. You’d saved their lives, and now they had returned the favor.

[the-goddess-of-change]

The job interview.

Mark sighs and looks over at his friend ''that is the fourth job interview that turned me down, its impossible to find work now'' His friend nods slowly and looks at him ''i guess...but i know a friend who is looking for some new people ? i can send her a message and ask her ?'' ''i guess its worth a try Claire'' Claire smiles and nods as she texts her friend and gets an answer almost immediatly ''She said you can come by tomorrow at 12.00'' ''is that okay ?'' Mark nods ''that's fine but where is it ?'' Claire explains the location to mark and writes it down on a note and hands it to him ''There you go'' ''Thanks'' So the day passes and the next day Mark shows up to the specified place and sits in the waiting room waiting to be called in A woman wearing a black blazer and a matching skirt walks out of the office and looks at him ''Are you the one Claire asked me about ?'' Mark stands up and nods ''yeah, my name is mark'' She looks at him for a few seconds and sighs ''Well...it seems there has been a small misunderstanding then, the job is for women only i'm afraid but...maybe i have other uses for you, lets do the interview'' Mark nods slowly and follows the woman as they conduct the interview After its done the woman looks at him ''Hmm...color me surprised now, you aced the interview but...i cant hire you....this is quite a pickle...'' she looks at mark who looks like he is ready to just give up on the search for a job now ''why not though ? why does it have to be a woman ? i dont get it'' ''....Caire didn't even tell you what the job was ?'' ''N-no...she didn't'' ''Oh...right...well we sell...adult toys so to say and well to sell it you need to experience it and use it on yourself so you can get a better idea on how it works and sell it to customers which are mostly women or men buying it for their wives etc'' Mark looks at her ''Ah...right, that makes sense i suppose....well i guess there isn't much i can do then'' She nods and Mark heads home to find Claire lying on his sofa smiling as he walks inside ''So, got the job ?'' ''Fuck off, you knew it was for women only, you fucked me over there Claire, you're such a dick sometimes you know'' ''Awww, dont be pouty Mark, you know i'm always there for you right ?'' ''Really now ? you are?'' ''Mgm, because i got you covered there'' she smiles and points over at a bottle of something on the table ''Drink that and it will be good okay?'' Mark walks over and looks at it ''60% pure alcohol ? will me getting drunk help ?'' ''Will it not help ? you usually drink when you get down so im just saving you going to the store so like i said, i'm always here for you'' she giggles as mark opens the bottle and chugs it ''Fuck! that's sweet! that cant have alcohol in it'' Claire shrugs as Mark just chugs the entire bottle Claire then looks at him and laughs ''Nope! it didnt, i lied to you i put that there myself, i got this drink from someone i know but dont worry, it will solve all your problems okay?'' Mark clenches his fists and looks at her ''You are such a fucking dick sometimes, didn't even get me alcohol but then if not Alcohol what was it ?'' ''Who knows right ? spooky stuff because i wont tell you anything i'm just going to lie here and watch the magic happen'' Mark just sighs at her and goes to the kitchen and looks inside his fridge ''oh my god...CLAIRE!!!!'' Claire walks over ''Yes?'' ''Did you pour out all my beer i had in here ?'' ''hmmm....i dont know, i think i did but i dont remember'' Mark looks at her in anger but cant force himself to do anything since she does this kinda stuff all the time ''Dont be angry, you know ill make it up to you when you need it as always but right now, lie down and just let your mind wander a bit okay ?'' Mark sighs but nods at her ''yeah, maybe i just need a little rest, you gonna crash here while i drop out ?'' ''mhm! i'm going to go to the store and get us some candy and drinks and see if there is a good movie on the tv later so when you wake up we're going to have loads of fun, okay?'' Mark smiles at her and nods as he hugs her and goes and lies down on his bed and closes his eyes Mark struggles a bit to fall asleep but once he does he find himself in a strange place, he's inside what looks like his house but there is no furniture there and he can see himself just standing there in the middle of the room just looking at nothing Mark tries to move around in his dream but its like his vision is just fixated on himself The clone of him just stands there doing nothing Mark tries to speak in his dream but yet again, nothing happens and just as fast as that happened Mark wakes up feeling a tingling sensation all over his body ''Ah...Damn ? what the hell kinda fever dream was that....but fuck i feel weird all over...'' he walks over to the bathroom and splashes some water on his face and notices his beard is just gone from his face ''......'' ''....she didn't...'' Mark touches his smooth face and does notice it feels smoother than usual like some skin cream has been applied to it ''she couldn't have...its impossible'' Mark sighs and reaches up for the towel but he feels its a bit higher up than it was before he tiptoes and reaches the towel and washes his face and notices his short hair is a bit longer than before it also has gone from a dark brown color to a light brown color ''Okay, i know Claire didn't do that'' Mark touches his hair slightly and notices something weird, it seems like its growing longer as he holds around it Mark just keeps holding his hair as it grows longer and longer and reaches down to his chest as it stops growing ''This is fucking insane...did Claire...oh my god...did she spike the drink she gave me ?! god damn it!'' Mark lets go of his hair and sighs yet again and splashes some more water on his face ''stupid Claire...'' Mark sighs and dries his face and just looks at himself in the mirror His whole face looks different now, his eyes are now brown instead of blue His lips are fuller, his nose smaller, even his eyebrows looks like they were fixed and his bone structure looks different ''Holy shit....what the fuck is this ?!'' Mark runs his hands over his face and sure enough it feels different, its smoother, more curvy and more...feminine Its not that it looks feminine...it is feminine, like it is a woman's face looking back at him ''Holy...shit! am i tripping or is it real ?'' Mark steps a bit back and takes a deep sigh and closes his eyes Mark starts breathing heavily as he opens his eyes back up and notices his chest is starting to swell up slowly pushing against his shirt his breasts starts to expand getting bigger and bigger til they finally stop as mark rips his shirt of and looks down ''What the actual fuck is going on now ?! this cant be real but i ain't tripping either! Fuck! CLAIREEE!!!'' He yells as loud as he can but no one responds ''shes not here?'' Mark staggers around the appartement but no one is there ''she said she was going out...fair enough...'' ''But fuck...'' Mark sighs and looks down on his chest and cups his breasts with his hands as he feels his crotch tingling ''Fuck! NGH!! what is this ?!'' Mark shouts and drops his pants on the floor and looks down at his manhood as it starts to shrink and go into his body leaving only some flat skin there where it once was but not sooner than that happens it feels like his skin is being ripped open as his body screams in pain ''AHHHH!!!!'' Mark screams in intense pain as his new womanhood opens up and Mark passes out from the pain just about 10 minutes later Claire walks into the house and looks at Mark who is now sitting on a chair with his oversized pants on and a blanket over him ''Yay! so it did work! i am amazed!'' Mark stands up and looks at her ''Oh my god Claire! you are fucking unbelivable!'' Mark pouts as his new voice is clearly a womans voice and not his own anymore ''Awww what a cutie voice you got, but i got you some clothes so get dressed up or do you need help?'' Claire giggles and walks over to Mark and takes the blanket away from him ''Why isnt your shirt on ?'' ''....it...broke i guess..'' Claire just giggles and starts poking mark's breasts ''Awww cute cups you got there...hmmm...what shall we call you...how about...oh! you look like a Lauren'' ''Yep! Lauren it is, that's your new name now'' Claire just keeps giggling and poking Laurens chest ''Stop it'' ''Fine fine grumpy'' she looks in her bag and gets out some bra's ''let me see which one fits you'' she smiles and tries on a couple til she finds on that fits Lauren ''there we go, perfect for you and its a cute black one as well so now you look all sexy and stuff but we're not done yet'' She smiles and pulls of Lauren's pants and boxer ''Awwww and look there, you even got a v-....'' ''Dont say it!'' Claire just giggles and hands Lauren some panties and some black pants ''put these on'' Lauren sighs but does as told ''And now you're almost kinda fully dressed just need a shirt...how about like a shirt and a cardigan over since its kinda cold ? yeah that should work perfect!'' ''it is so fun you are really into this you know because i just wanna beat the shit outta you'' ''those words coming from those cute lips and that voice totally dosent fit you anymore'' Lauren pouts some more while Claire cuddles down next to her and kisses her cheek ''Awww, you look so cute when you do that you know, but my boyfriend would totally kill me if i kissed you some more'' ''you dont got a boyfriend, you're single'' ''well im just waiting for him to see me you know, i know he's out there'' ''that makes no sense but whatever'' ''Awww you sad i wont be your cute lesbian girlfriend ?'' ''No! shut up!'' Claire giggles some more and smiles at her ''So i set you up with a new interview with Cassandra tomorrow so you will get the job now! yay!'' ''its a job selling sex toys!'' ''i know! and now you will get it!'' ''God damn it...'' Lauren sighs and stands up ''Where are you going ?'' ''Bathroom...i gotta go'' Claire giggles and drags Lauren with her to the bathroom ''Go on then, you know girls go to the bathrooms together soooo dont be shy princess'' ''....'' Lauren just sighs but sits down on the toilet and does her thing ''Awww so cute'' Lauren just looks away and finishes and gets up as Claire just keeps giggling ''This is just the best!'' Lauren sighs and washes her hands and leaves the bathroom and heads to her room ''im going to go to bed'' ''Me to! im taking the sofa then since its so comfy'' Lauren says nothing but they both decide to go to bed The next morning Lauren is awoken by Claire just standing next to the bed looking at her ''Fuck! you scared me!'' ''Awww, sorry i just wanted to look at you sleeping'' Lauren sighs ''that's not creepy at all but fine...'' gets out of the bed and gets dressed ''Your interview is in an hour so better get ready for that'' Claire smiles and slaps her butt ''oh and i got you this for the interview'' she smiles and hands Lauren a skirt ''put it on and i got you some cute shoes as well'' Lauren sighs but reluctantly goes along with it and puts on the skirt as Claire hands her some heels ''these are easy to walk on and i know you can walk on high heels after that time you got drunk and wore em for like 3 hours'' ''Yes yes...'' puts the shoes on and walks around a bit without really any issue ''oooohhh, looking cute now, real buissness like, its like you've always been Lauren but you know it dont have to be like that you know'' ''What?'' Lauren looks at her ''Well i got a bottle that can change you back you know...so you get to live both lives so since its all fun, why not go all the way and just act it out?'' Lauren looks at her ''so i can change back?'' ''Well that depends if you do a good job and behave good i will let you do as you please'' ''For real Claire Answer me'' ''Fine'' she pouts ''yeah, i got the potion but C'mon just have some fun?'' Lauren looks at her and sighs ''fine ill go along with this, might be fun so why not'' ''Yay! You are the best Lauren'' she giggles and huggles Lauren tightly ''And since you're a girl we can go shopping together and get free drinks and so much more'' ''...i think there is more to being a man or a woman than that but...isnt that kinda generic?'' ''Whatever! its all about having fun til the day you're just a fucking corpse rotting in the ground'' ''....i dont get you...'' ''You dont have to understand me, Lauren silly'' Claire once again giggles and kisses Lauren's cheek ''i thought you said you wouldn't do that'' ''Hmmm...i did but that was past me you know'' ''....right...okay, time for me to go then'' ''oh oh! im driving you there so lets go vroom!'' ''....yes...'' Lauren just sighs as Claire drives her to the place and drops her off for the interview Once again Lauren is sitting in the waiting room and waiting for Cassandra Cassandra walks out and looks at Lauren and smiles ''Lauren right ? please come inside'' she smiles as Lauren follows her once again inside the office and nails the interview just like last time ''huh...that was amazing'' she smiles ''T-thank you'' Lauren smiles ''So i would give you the job there is just one small issue...'' ''oh ? what is it...?'' ''Well Claire just sent me a message and i guess...you can work it out from there'' ''....Damn Claire...'' ''Now....that is fine Lauren, You do fit all the criterias now so there is no reason why i cant hire you but like i said you have to try out the...toys and that you will act like what you are...not that men and women cant act in whatever way they want but you know what i mean right ?'' Lauren nods slowly ''okay then, Welcome to the team then Lauren'' Cassandra smiles at Lauren and stands up ''if you got any questions and such dont be afraid to ask but i am a bit afraid the rest of the staff might know your little situation since Claire pretty much knows everyone here and sent them the same message'' ''How does Claire know everyone here?'' ''I dont know, big social circle i guess and she is kinda easy to get to know and get along with'' ''i guess so'' Cassandra smiles and shows Lauren around the office ''So this is our office, as you already know, we sell toys and sell them to people but we are trying to kinda branch out and open up our own store which is where you come in, i want you to run the store once it opens up'' ''So...im going to work in a adult toy shop ?'' ''that's right Lauren and i hope i can trust you...'' ''Y-Yes of course...i will do my best its just a lot going on right now but Claire just told me to go along with it'' ''Good advice i guess, i guess there is a lot for you to get used to at the moment'' ''Not...really, my body is different but i'm still the same person so its fine'' Cassandra just smiles and walks into another room and returns with a box and hands them to Lauren ''Here we go, this is just some beginner stuff i want you to try out before you start working, i hope that wont be any issue?'' Lauren looks at the box then at Cassandra and nods slowly ''ill...try to do it...'' Cassandra smiles and hugs Lauren ''That's great! so i will give you a call tomorrow then we can talk more about it and when the shop opens up on Friday i hope everything has worked out for you'' Lauren nods and takes the box ''so then, see you in two days'' She smiles as Lauren nods at her and walks out where she spots Claire in the car just listening to music and drinking some energy drink Lauren walks over and gets inside as Claire just giggles at her as she notices the box ''this is going to be great!'' she squeals as they drive back home and unpack the box which contains to no one surprise a bunch of adult toys and some kinky items ''Lookie here, we got some handcuffs...a paddle...a whip and some dildos and a jack rabbit...pretty common stuff...thought there would be some other fun stuff inside'' Lauren just sighs and looks at the stuff ''so what ? i gotta use these on myself to see how it is to be able to sell them better ? how does that work ?'' ''Well duh, a lot of people want recommendations on what they are buying silly so you gotta know which ones to recommend and you said you would go along with it'' ''I guess i did...'' ''then cheer up!'' Claire giggles and gets out the handcuffs and quickly puts them on Lauren's hands ''Yay! now we just remove those silly clothes'' she giggles as she starts to remove Lauren's skirt, thighs and her panties ''N-no wait now! i dont wanna do it now!'' Claire keeps giggling and drags Lauren to the bedroom and pushes her down on the bed Lauren looks at her as she holds up a pink dildo and giggles loudly ''Either i do it, and that might hurt or you be a big girl and do it on yourself'' ''Eh...my hands are kinda tied though'' Lauren sighs and Claire goes and unlocks them ''there we go, now your hands are free again, yay!'' Lauren just sighs as Claire throws the dildo at her ''i told you, go with it, ins't it kinda fun to see how the other side might feel ? i know you're excited and i know you sorta like it because if you weren't id known'' Lauren sighs but she is kinda right and she did decide to go along with it and the pay is kinda good ''fine fine so what do i do ?'' Claire giggles and hands her some lube ''put some on your toy and around your cute little virgin lips'' ''....how can you even say that with that face'' Lauren sighs but does as told ''And now you gently push it inside there and experience pure joy'' Lauren sighs and spreads her legs a bit and slowly pushes the toy inside her womanhood ''...'' Lauren slowly pulls it back out and in again a bit deeper this time as she experiences a tingling sensation all over her ''Ah...ngh...'' Claire looks on and giggles as Lauren just keeps going a bit faster ''Ahhh...my god....ngh....aaa....'' Claire smiles and grabs the dildo from her and starts helping her a bit out ''Now, close your eyes and just let your imagination run wild princess'' Lauren nods at her and does as told as Claire starts working it on her As she goes on Lauren moans loudly as Claire just keeps going for what seems like forever As Lauren lies their in intense emotional pleasure she can feel her body exploding in joy as she climaxes ''oh my god! i made you climax! your first climax! Yay! How was it ?'' Lauren just lies down on the bed and looks up at the celing ''A---Amazing....'' Claire giggles and puts it away and sits down next to her on the bed ''Awww so cute, you liked it, i knew you would so this isn't so bad now is it ? you get to experience that as much as you want and you have looked at yourself right ? you look adorable, really cute so i'm going to do something you will thank me for'' Lauren sits up and looks at her as Claire gets out of the bed and picks up a small bottle from her purse and shows it to Lauren ''You know what this is right ? this is the reverse potion but lookie here'' she smiles and gets out another bottle ''one changes you back, Another is a surprise but here is the catch, if you wanna go back there might not be a way to go back again since its kinda weird'' ''Okay...so what is the other on then ?'' ''Oh ? so you're not just going to take the reverse one ?'' Lauren says nothing but just keeps looking at her ''Well then my little princess cutie girl, this potion is a surprise but i know you dont like surprises so should i tell you?'' ''Yes, do tell me Claire for reals'' ''i will tell you if you undress right now!'' ''....'' Lauren sighs but removes her shirt and bra and sits on the bed naked and looks at Claire ''Awww, so cute! but okay then princess, this potion is the best thing ever, i know because i used it on myself'' ''So what does it do?'' ''Well, this potion...enhances your...hmm...well it enhances your inner femininity'' ''Which means...?'' ''Well, it wont make you a bimbo, but it will alter some of the way you talk, maybe your way of thinking a bit and make those feelings you just had more intense'' ''So...it will make me more into a woman?'' ''Well yes and no because as you know, every woman is different just like every man is different so i wouldn't know'' ''But here is the thing princess, Do you want to go back or do you want to go all the way ? do you want to be Lauren, work in the store, live as a woman ? dresses ? make-up ? shoes ?`clothes ? that way of life?'' ''Now you're generalizing'' Lauren smiles at Claire ''oh wow, i actually am'' Claire giggles ''But you're literally asking me to go on with this or go back ?'' ''Sorta yes, but i guess its up to you'' Lauren looks at the potions and both seem...tempting, Laurens life before was never bad, she had a big social circle, lots of good friends...just some trouble finding a job but nothing bad and she had never had thoughts about things like these before but on the other hand.... ''or should i make it interesting ?'' Claire grins and walks out of the room and returns back with two cups filled with something ''which one contains what ? so exciting'' ''So i just get to pick one ?'' ''Mhm! super exciting yay! right ?!'' Lauren looks at Claire and gets out of the bed and catches a quick glimpse of herself in the mirror ''Huh...'' walks over to Claire and looks at her ''i just noticed im actually taller than you now, tiny!'' ''whatever but i pick this one'' takes the cup in her right hand and drinks it it has a strange taste to it, kinda like...a lot of mixed drinks ''you drank it! yay! congratulations Lauren, what you picked waaasssss'' Before Claire continues Lauren looks at her ''it was the same in each cup right ?'' ''H-huh ? nuhuh!'' ''Right....you're lying'' Claire giggles and pokes Lauren's nose ''How did you know?'' ''....i dont know...'' ''Womens intuition ?'' Claire giggles as Lauren walks back to the bed and gets dressed ''i guess so...i guess so...'' ''So you knew, but you still did it...'' Claire looks at her not really sure what to say ''you didnt think i would do it ?'' ''Honestly ? no..not really that was kinda the reason i was joking around...there is no way back now but...you seem...content'' ''i dont know really what to think'' ''Does it matter ?'' Lauren looks at her and smiles Claire smiles and nods ''i guess not...Lauren'' Lauren smiles and sits down on the bed ''So...like...what now?'' Claire shrugs ''i dont know...but...now that i know you wont change back...hmmm'' she giggles ''Wanna make out then?'' Claire looks at Lauren ''i thought you wanted a boyfriend and so on'' ''its for fun, dont have to be serious'' Lauren shrugs and walks kinda seductively over to Claire and wraps her arms around her and looks her in the eyes ''its already working that fast...but you are cute and adorable so i think im going to engage in some debauchery then'' Claire and Lauren smile at each other as Claire wraps her arms around Lauren as they start to make out on the bed Two days later Lauren shows up at the store which has just opened up as Cassandra welcomes her ''Hey there you are!'' ''Sorry, had a bit trouble finding the way'' Lauren giggles ''and look at you, you look fantastic, i guess this means...'' Lauren nods at her ''Lauren full time now, and living every day to the fullest, i'm really enjoying it, a whole new world has opened up'' ''Claire even took me shopping and i bought more than her'' Lauren giggles as Cassandra hugs her ''Awww, i'm proud of you Lauren and i'm so happy for you'' Lauren smiles as Cassandra shows her around the shop and teaches her to use the cashier as they both smile at each other ''So, for the first day im going to be here as well so lets hope for some customers! oh and did you...?`'' ''i tried them all'' Lauren giggles ''they work perfectly and they feel amazing!'' ''Great to hear! this is the start of something new and something good Lauren'' Lauren nods as the doors opens up for the customer and the first workday in her new life is about to start. Whats going to happen in the future ? who knows but maybe we will find out.....sometime.

[putthison]

Digging in the Crates: Talking with Brian Davis of Wooden Sleepers

Wooden Sleepers is the kind of store I wish was near me. Brian Davis, the shop’s founder, has been around the menswear scene forever, but first opened his shop seven years ago on Etsy. Back then, he just had simple listings for his vintage finds, which ranged from classic Americana to workwear to Ivy Style items. A few years later, he opened a brick-and-mortar shop in Brooklyn, which has been since become a destination spot for men’s style enthusiasts. Japanese menswear magazines such as Free & Easy have featured the store; GQ called it the best new vintage menswear shop in NYC. 

When Brian opened his brick-and-mortar, he took down his online web shop in order to focus on his physical location. Carefully setting up the interior decor and presentation was a lot of work, too much to also include shooting photos and selling online. Now that Wooden Sleepers is more established, however, they’ve jumped back on the internet. This past month, they launched a fully dedicated online site (although inventory is still being added), and they’re been developing an in-house line of Wooden Sleepers totes, caps, and sweatshirts (we love all of it). They even shot a fall/ winter lookbook. 

I recently sat down with Brian to talk about his store, his history with vintage clothing, and his style suggestions for guys who are are looking to incorporate a bit of vintage into their wardrobe. 

Tell us about how you got into vintage clothing and how you started Wooden Sleepers.

I grew up on the east end of Long Island, skateboarding and listening to punk and hip-hop music. I lived with my grandparents at the time, a long way from any of the shopping malls. Buying second-hand clothes from local church shops was a way for me to rebel against the Abercrombie & Fitch crowd -- this was around the early- to mid-90s, when A&F was big. Looking back, a lot of the stuff I used to rummage through would later influence my taste in clothes as an adult – seersucker suits, oil-stained mechanic jackets, vintage Levi’s, etc. 

Fast forward to 2010, I was working a corporate job and wanted a creative outlet. My girlfriend at the time, now my wife, encouraged me to set up my own clothing shop. This was when heritage and Americana were huge online. There were sites such as A Continuous Lean, Valet, and Put This On; New York City had the Pop-Up Flea; Etsy was just getting started, but was still a fairly unknown thing. So I started listing stuff online for my thrifted finds. We launched on Etsy in 2010 and then opened a brick-and-mortar in 2014.  

That’s surprising because, right around that time, many brick-and-mortars started struggling. Do you find it difficult to do a brick-and-mortar business in NYC nowadays?

The New York Times had a story not too long ago about Bleecker Street, a big commercial area here with global brands such as Marc Jacobs and Ralph Lauren. At some point, the landlords got greedy and raised rents, and now all those businesses have had to move out. Maybe they could have afforded the rents, but it probably didn’t make sense given the amount of business they were getting from the area. And now, when you walk down Bleecker Street, there are a ton of empty storefronts.

My goal as a business was never about being part of that world. When I was looking for a shop space, I was looking for a place with a thriving community of small businesses. We found that in Red Hook in Brooklyn. Our street is very much orientated around mom-and-pop businesses, with great restaurants and small shops. We’ve actually seen our business grow year after year.

But many small NYC clothing stores have closed – Gentry, French Garment Cleaners, Carson Street Clothiers. It’s not just big brands that are struggling, it seems like it’s everyone. People are so used to comparison-shopping online, they’ll find the cheapest price possible for any given item. Do you feel you’ve been able to escape this as a vintage clothing store?

I think so. Although you can still comparison shop with vintage clothes, nothing is ever going to be the same exact piece. If you find something and it’s “the one,” you may never see it again. Sometimes there are idiosyncratic details or nuances that make it just right.

I also think we’re lucky to have a community that supports us. As a consumer myself, I try to support local and small businesses because I know those companies can easily disappear. And that’s not great for the neighborhood. We have many customers outside of NYC, but we’re also lucky to have lots of guys in the neighborhood that enjoy shopping with us. And they’re guys who aren’t going to get on the computer to see if they can find something for ten bucks cheaper.

How do you get your stuff?

No two days are the same. There are wholesale places that sell bales of vintage clothing. So, you go and buy these dirt-cheap lots, sorted by types of clothes – sweatshirts, t-shirts, jeans, etc. But you have to buy so much junk order to get a few gems. That’s how you get these huge vintage stores with a ton of inventory, with racks and racks of stuff.

Our business model is the exact opposite of that. We have a very small store, which forces us to edit. I only want the gems. Which means I have to go out and source things myself, often piece-by-piece. That can mean anything from crawling around an attic to get vintage chore coats to digging around an estate sale. Sometimes I’ll follow a lead I read about; sometimes I network with other pickers around the country. The key is to always be sourcing because out of ten leads, only a few will be good.

You network with other vintage sellers?

Yea, it helps to have people out there who can tell you when they’ve found something, but aren’t in your specific market. I once met an antiques dealer at a flea market who had a stack of old work clothes. I bought the jackets and told him I had a vintage clothing store in Brooklyn. So, we traded info.

A few weeks later, he called me out of the blue and told me he found an old, boarded up mom-and-pop shoe store in Ohio that has been closed since the 1970s. Inside were hundreds of deadstock boots. He wanted to know if I was interested in buying them. 

I was skeptical at first since sometimes things are deadstock for a reason – maybe they’re in odd sizes, for example – but he promised they had a good size range and everything was in great condition. So, I told him I was interested. He ended up driving all the way to NYC from Ohio and we met up at my store at midnight. I bought 150 pairs of boots from his inventory. Had shoeboxes going up to the ceiling that night.

I’m surprised those things still happen. I can imagine finding up an old boarded-up place with deadstock items in the ‘80s, but with the internet, it feels like anyone can offload stuff online. 

I’m as surprised as you are, but those pickers still exist. From a business perspective, you’re getting the best margin. You’re getting stuff that people think is garbage, so you’re getting it for the lowest price, and then you’re able to find specialty collectors or buyers. It takes a ton of work. These people are often waking up at 3am just to find things, driving around searching for old stores, looking for hidden gems. It takes a certain kind of person.

Do you ever get people coming in off the street with an unusual find for sale? 

Not yet, but I once got a call from Richard Press, the former President of J. Press. It was great because I’ve always been a huge fan of the company. He helped broker a sale where I was able to get a bunch of stuff that was in the personal collection of a former J. Press tailor. One that had worked for the company from about the 1960s to the ‘80s. In the collection, there were hundreds of ties, sport coats, trousers, and deadstock shirts. It was so great to see Richard’s face light up, to see how excited he got about clothes. I feel like it’s so easy to get jaded about things, especially in the fashion industry, but Richard had this youthful excitement about him when he saw old things from his family’s store. It was really special.

Are there things you’ve picked up along the way that you’ve decided to keep it yourself?

Well, I always want to give my customers the first crack. I’ve always hated those vintage stores that dangle the best stuff from the ceiling, but only for decoration. That said, I’m an outerwear nut and NYC winters can be brutal, so I was pretty excited to get a Brown’s Beach jacket to go along with the vest. The jackets are rarer than the vest, and I was lucky to find one that fits. My 1940s USN deck jacket is also a favorite. Mine is olive; the navy one is a bit of a unicorn.

A lot of the stuff I wear, however, isn’t that rare. I like madras shirts, old Brooks Brothers button-downs. I like cut-off military khakis, vintage military jungle jackets. Anything from that ‘60s and ‘70s Vietnam War era, in the OG-107 cloth. Some of those vintage military fabrics were made from a cotton-poly blend, especially in the later years, but the earlier stuff was often pure cotton. That’s the stuff you want because it ages in a really nice way. 

As a guy who cleans and repairs things for his store, do you have any tips on how to clean vintage clothing?

A lot of it is common sense. Cotton things can be thrown into the wash; wool items will often need to be hand-washed or dry cleaned. A lot of what I buy is vintage workwear, so they’re things that have been through a lot – a washing machine isn’t going to hurt them. There are some things I leave behind because they’re too raggedy, but there’s a lot you can save with a bit of mending and cleaning.

If you find a vintage item with a musty smell, you can also spray it with a 50/ 50 mix of white vinegar and water. It helps freshen it up a bit. The vinegar smell goes away, and with it, it takes out some of the smell you occasionally find in vintage clothes. 

For readers who are interested in trying out vintage clothing, do you think there are some pieces that are easier to wear than others?

Definitely, go with the classics. A French chore coat or a Levi’s trucker jacket. Unless you’re shopping at the very high-end of the market, buying brands such as The Real McCoys or RRL, you can often get a vintage piece that’s cheaper and cooler than more mainstream items. Even a Levi’s trucker jacket from the 1980s is going to look better than a mainline Levi’s jacket in the same style, but new.

I also really like getting guys into bigger pants. The pendulum has swung so far into the slim-fit trend that guys can feel like it’s a revelation when they wear something fuller. Maybe a pair of fatigues isn’t right for the office, but they’re great for the weekend. For spring and summer, you can wear them with simple, canvas sneakers, such as Jack Purcells or Chuck Taylors. For fall, they look great with brown, plain-toe service boots. For me, the key to wearing fuller pants is that you don’t want a break. Otherwise, they can look really messy. If you roll them up a little, you get a fuller cut without any of the bagginess.

M-65 military jackets are also really easy to wear. 1950s and ‘60s military issue khakis. Denim chore coats. Especially with chore coats, if you’re not a connoisseur, you’re not going to care if a piece is from the ‘40s or ‘50s or ‘60s. The look is the same, which means you can come up on something that looks great, but is reasonably affordable. Again, they go great with jeans, sweatshirts, and heavy boots. They can fit a bit roomy, but I think that’s the charm.

I know what you mean. Sometimes when the fit is too precise, especially with workwear, an outfit can seem too precious. Ethan Newton once told me how he likes vintage leather jackets because they fit in idiosyncratic ways – which is just another way of saying they don’t fit perfectly. I think that can be good with certain looks.

I agree. We’ve spent so much time talking about effortless style, but sometimes guys get too worked up over details. Just put on the jacket and wear it. A lot of this is much simpler than sometimes it’s presented online. It goes back to the first day of school and wearing a jacket that makes you excited, a jacket that makes you feel cool. It can be about a feeling.

Thanks for your time, Brian. 

Readers interested in Wooden Sleepers can visit them in Red Hook, Brooklyn or shop from their new online store. They’re also on Instagram and Twitter, where you can keep up with their daily happenings. 

[elitegleeksrp]

mwc?

We only have one scholarship student to three socialites, so we could use more scholarship students to take the spotlight off of Dave Karofsky. Any character can be rewritten to fit any role, but those that I can easily see as scholarship students include Brittany Pierce, Finn Hudson, Sam Evans, the Puckermans (if we get two of them, they can meet for the first time here - we could even make one a socialite and the other a scholarship student to up the spicy drama), Marley Rose, Ryder Lynn, Alistair, Brody Weston, Lauren Zizes, Spencer Porter, and maybe even the McCarthys- though those two could really easily fit into either option. You can also place any of these characters as NOT having gotten the scholarship, for grades or their public image or whatever reason, and leave them at the public college to wait for an opportunity to go to Las Dalton Encinas later. Give them the struggle life.

Good socialite characters include Sebastian Smythe, Hunter Clarington, Santana Lopez, Artie Abrams, Unique Adams, Mike Chang, Tina Cohen-Chang, Jane Hayward, Sugar Motta, Mercedes Jones, and Kitty Wilde.

The third option is to play a character that does not attend either college program (though they can get into either one later on if you want them to) and to use this as an open town rp to add to the drama but not be immediately connected to either school. Consider the character of Omar Shanaa as an example of this; he works at his family’s grocery store while Nadia goes to school and their father recovers from health issues, he takes the role of family caretaker so he doesn’t have time to do anything but work. Eventually, he does get a scholarship to Las Encinas and is a scholarship student as of the last season of Elite. These characters can be business owners, or they can just be working the 9 to 5. Almost all of these characters are going to be lower to middle class financially, because the socialite are all forced by their parents to go to school. It’s not really a situation where they can say no, so you won’t find many socialites going against their parents. Even the really rebellious ones, like Mencia on Elite, still go to school as they are told even if they ruin the uniform or do other things to rebel. If you do choose to play a socialite character that is not at Las Dalton Encinas, know that they will likely be working with none of their family fortune and will be struggling to make ends meet like a regular person. No mansion, no butlers, no fancy new clothes. The compromise to that is being a socialite that does both; school and their business in town.

If you’re looking for detailed suggestions, I’d love to see a Kurt Hummel that has enough family money to sit comfortable (sometimes) right in the middle of the financial/social status of the socialites and scholarship kids. Maybe he isn’t a scholarship student, but he transferred right before the scholarship program came back so he almost appears to be a scholarship student to those that don’t know him. You could use his canon storyline, where Burt scrounges up the money to pay his Las Dalton Encinas tuition to get him away from a bully. You can plot with our Dave too, if you want to try to fit the canon storyline there in too, to remind Dave of his not-so-savory past. I have a few ideas in the faqs tag beyond this too, from a previous anon. 

[selfcaredoc]

Where the Serotonin Lives

The Pursuit of Happiness

Do you know where serotonin (the happiness hormone) lives in your body? Your gut microbiome houses 95% of what I call my favorite hormone. So right there in the old bread basket is where your happiness, sex drive, sleep health, and mental health hold space. Maybe that is why comfort food is so comforting. You may be wondering what is a healthy gut microbiome and how do I get one or is my gut already healthy? Let’s unpack this and come up with some strategies for improving or maintaining a healthy gut microbiome.

  health·y – adjective- in good health “I feel fit and healthy”

gut – noun- the stomach or belly

mi·cro·bi·ome – noun- the microorganisms in a particular environment (including the body or a part of the body)

 A Tale of Two Brains

Healthy is an individual feeling. Its outward appearance can look different from person to person but inwardly it is an overall feeling of well-being. Thousands of years ago Traditional Chinese Medicine doctors recognized the importance of a healthy digestive system to overall health since the production of “Qi” vital energy for the body relies on healthy gut conditions. Western medicine has begun to study the connections between the mind and gut calling gut flora “the second brain.”  What are some things we can do daily to nourish our guts?

 Staying hydrated

 This is such a crucial step and one of the easiest to master. It can begin as simple as having a glass of water before you have a cup of coffee in the morning, switching out the diet soda at lunch for a glass of water, to having a glass of water with dinner before you finish with a glass of wine. Water just makes everything work better and you will see results in the quality of your skin, how shiny your hair is, the ease of eliminations, and better sleep.

 Eat the Rainbow

 Unfortunately, I do not mean the popular hard candy. On your plate make sure there is a variety of colors. A colorful diet can provide adequate amounts of vitamins and minerals as well as fiber, probiotics, and prebiotics.

 No Stress, Baby

 No stress… even I roll my eyes at this statement but there are several ways to manage stress and managing stress is so very crucial to your overall health. Recently I finished “The Book of Moods” by Lauren Martin, a good read I highly recommend it. Lauren recalled meeting a 70’s something colleague for the first time and marveling at how amazing she looked. Out of this meeting, my takeaway was the way the colleague looked at her to-do list as “things she gets to do not things she has to do.” Let that sink in for a minute while you take some deep breaths in through your nose with the back of your throat open. Breathe deep into your gut and hold it then slowly let it release through your nose. Try this a couple of times and note how you feel. Meditation is also a solid practice for dealing with stress. Find what relaxes you and take time throughout your day to take a moment and de-stress especially when you start to feel a tension in your shoulders. Keep in mind that unless your shorts are on fire there is nothing so pressing that you can’t press the pause button for a couple of minutes for some self-care.

 Dailies

 Moving your body regularly through exercise really is fundamental. Over the past 3 years, I have tried and failed to prove this statement as false. Exercise had always been a part of my day. As a kid I played, hiked, ran, barefoot in the woods behind my North Carolina home. In high school, I weight trained and became a bodybuilder. In adulthood after the kids went to bed, I would hit the Stairmaster and the exercise ball. In my 40’s I am struggling to find a routine I enjoy that I can stick with and through this struggle, I have watched my overall health decline and my mid-section expand.

We all want to be healthy, fit, feel good in our clothes but physical fitness and the routines designed around it are not one size fits all. Exercise has to be personal and enjoyable. I am a gamer you can follow my gaming life on Twitter @LadyGamerMom. Last Christmas my wonderful family gifted me with a Nintendo Switch. My birthday falls in January and I gifted myself the “Ring Fit Adventure.” I love it! I am gaming and working up a sweat 2 things I love.

The key points are:

 ·       Exercise is crucial to balancing hormones and having more Serotonin.

·       Don’t get discouraged keep searching until you find a routine you love.

·       Remember we want to be healthy not an Instagram model. Don’t stress this.

 Some Suggestions

I have been taking health coach courses from the Institute for Integrative Nutrition (IIN)  and I love it. Below is an excerpt from an *IIN Blog post entitled “Four Exercises to Support Your Gut Microbiome” written by Nina Zorfass. Nina holds a bachelor’s in dietetics, nutrition, and food sciences from the University of Vermont and is a graduate of IIN’s Health Coach Training Program.

These are her suggestions for healthy gut exercises. Perhaps you will find something you love.

 Four exercises to improve digestion and support gut health

Here are four of the best exercises that support a healthy and well-functioning microbiome. Be sure to check with your healthcare practitioner before starting a new exercise regimen, especially if it’s more vigorous than your previous regimen:

Yoga

Yoga connects breath with movement and is a mind-body practice that encourages you to tune in to how your body feels in space and within the corners of your yoga mat. In general, yoga can be an opportunity to de-stress, which is important for gut health, but there are several specific yoga poses that can promote digestion and detoxification:

Child’s pose – By letting your stomach relax between your legs, this pose can help ease any gut discomfort and can feel very soothing for your gut in general.

Low lunge – Our body is an interconnected system of parts, especially the muscles around our gut that can impact digestion and gut health. According to Kristin McGee, celebrity yoga and Pilates instructor, tight hip flexors can restrict the muscles in the abdomen and thus restrict digestion. A low lunge can stretch the hip flexors and relieve some abdominal discomfort.

Reclined revolved abdominal twist – “This is a great pose to help promote a healthy gut!” says Jacqui Bongiovani, RYT 200 and Integrative Nutrition Health Coach. “The twisting action wrings your abdominal muscles, improving circulation to vital organs.” The post is done by lying on your back with your arms in a T and bringing one knee across the body at a time. “The twist rotates your spine to stretch the muscles in your back all while stimulating the digestive tract.”

Seated spinal twist – By gently twisting from left to right, you apply gentle pressure to the organs that facilitate digestion and can stimulate proper motility. Straining during any type of twist will be counterintuitive, though, so be careful not to overdo it.

Tai chi

Similar to yoga, tai chi is also considered a mind-body practice. Rooted in Chinese philosophy, tai chi’s main goal is to improve the flow of qi, or energy, throughout the body while also promoting balance. It’s a low-impact exercise with a multitude of health benefits, such as improving strength, flexibility, balance, and proprioception, our awareness of our body in space, which declines as we age. Tai chi can decrease stress, which can improve immunity and support gut function!

Strength training

While high-impact exercise, such as cycling, running, or high-intensity interval training (HIIT), can actually slow down your digestion, strength training can still provide a cardio boost without negatively affecting your gut motility, the movement of your intestinal tract for proper elimination. High-impact exercise that gets your heart rate up for an extended period is still beneficial for your health, especially heart health, if you’re able to do so. But if you’re experiencing digestive distress, like constipation, low-impact exercise mixed with some strength training may be the way to go.

Breathwork

Breathing is something we likely take for granted – we don’t even have to think about it! – but many of us may not be breathing deeply enough to have a therapeutic effect on our gut. Diaphragmatic breathing, or deep breathing, is a technique that can be used on a daily basis or when you’re experiencing acute discomfort. It involves inhaling to fully expand the belly, then exhaling to contract the belly. This rhythmic breathing activates the parasympathetic nervous system (“rest and digest”) and reduces muscle tension, including the muscles responsible for supporting digestion and elimination.

Bonus Content

 Sleep is also crucial to a healthy gut microbiome but if you can stick to the suggestions above and develop a good sleep hygiene routine, I think you will find that a good night’s rest will occur naturally.

 I hope you have enjoyed this blog and feel like you have some healthy gut tools you can use. If you have other suggestions, please share those in the comments below. Enjoy the rest of your day and remember to be Healthy by Choice.

[5hfanfiction]

When She Sees Me (Chapter 1)

Summary: Camila’s a rich girl with some demons she can’t escape from. Lauren’s in a famous girl group and can’t tell the difference between who she wants to be and who others think she is.

It’s obvious they’re meant to be, but for some reason the universe is trying to do everything possible to tear them apart.

-

When Camila is in her senior year, she is already on top of the world.

-

“Baby. Wake up.”

She squints one eye open and rolls over to see Dua giving her that cheeky, beaming smile that she fell in love with three years ago and she breaks into her own grin. “What time is it?” Camila mumbles, propping herself up slightly and reaching for the phone laying on her nightstand.

“Six o’ five. We better hurry or we’re going to be late.”

Camila turns her phone on and immediately winces at the brightness. “Can you read the notifs for me?” she groans, flashing the phone screen at Dua.

Dua takes the phone in her hand. “Ally texted you telling you to wake up. Also, I think she sent you like, five, memes.”

Her phone chimes again.

“‘Did Dua stay over last night? I hear you two talking…’” Dua reads. “Yes, I’m here, Ally!” she shouts.

“Please tell me you guys kept it PG last night!” Ally’s voice is slightly muffled. She’s only in the next room over.

“Can you guys all be quiet? Some of us have an extra hour to sleep.” And then there’s Shawn, Camila’s older brother.

The door flies open and all of a sudden the oldest Cabello sibling, Harry, barges in. “Get out,” Camila whines, and Dua just laughs.

“Yeah, everybody seems fully clothed.” Oh, shit, he’s on the phone.

“Who are you talking to?” Camila sits up in bed and scowls at her brother.

“Ally.”

Camila rolls her eyes. “You guys are all idiots!” she yells. Three separate laughs come back in response. “Jesus Christ,” she hisses, and then she grabs Dua’s hand and tugs her out of bed. “Come on, hun, it’s time to face whatever dumbasses the universe throws at us today.”

She slips her glasses on her face as she and Dua walk out the door.

-

See, they all kind of have a routine by now.

Dua doesn’t stay over that often- only when Camila’s parents are off on particularly long business trips or it’s a special occasion (i.e. their anniversary)- but whenever she does, she always finds herself feeling a bit out of place. She’s only told Camila this once, but Camila has kept it in mind ever since, because she knows the whole Cabello clan can be a little overwhelming.

Okay, maybe more than a little.

“Are we going to stop to get Starbucks before school?” Ally asks as she maneuvers around Camila to reach for an apple. “Because if not I’m going to make a smoothie.”

Camila eyes the clock. “If we get Starbucks we’re going to be late. Go with a smoothie. And make me and Dua one, please.”

“Gotcha. Harry?” Harry tosses Ally the bag of frozen fruit. “Thanks.”

As Ally dumps the fruit in the blender, Camila pulls her phone out of the pocket of her robe and reaches for the Beats speaker on the kitchen island. A few moments later, a song with a nineties R&B vibe to it is pumping throughout the room. Camila sings along, as usual.

“He know I keep it ready on the regular, so I don’t have to get ready, ain’t no settin’ up…” She collects up her homework on the kitchen counter and makes a move for her backpack. “When I give it I make sure I give more than enough, yeah; he know, he know this-”

“I hate this song,” Ally says.

“Shut your mouth.” Camila glares at her. “Don’t disrespect the Unholy Trinity like that.”

Ah, the Unholy Trinity. They’ve been Camila’s longtime obsessions- she collects favorite artists the way some people collect coins, or… stamps. Do people still do that?

Either way, she love-love-loves the Unholy Trinity. Seriously, they’re right up her alley. Three smokin’ hot girls with amazing personalities and bomb-ass music? Sign her up. She’s loved them ever since they won the X-Factor two years ago. She’s loved them ever since the media deemed them the next Destiny’s Child. She may or may not write fanfiction about them in her spare time.

Okay, maybe that one’s going a little overboard. But can you blame her? Just look at them.

“Oh, right, I forgot that Lauren Jauregui is the love of Camila’s life- sorry, Dua.”

“That’s not true!” Camila frowns in protest. “I just think Lauren Jauregui’s really hot. But nobody compares to Dua.” She walks over to Dua, cups her chin in her hand, and kisses her cheek quickly. “I’m yours,” she whispers.

“Okay, gross. Back off with the PDA.” Ally pretends to throw up. Camila kisses Dua again and snipes, “You’re just jealous because you’re the only Cabello that’s single.”

“Stop!” Ally cries, hiding her face in her hands. “It’s not my fault that I suck at relationships.” Harry passes her three to-go cups, which she fills with smoothies before fitting lids on each one. “Here you go. Dua, Mila, you guys have thirty minutes to get dressed and out the door. If you don’t I’m leaving without you.” She gives Harry a quick hug. “Have fun at work, you old, old man.”

“Have fun at high school, you little, little toddlers,” Harry shoots back before rushing out the front door. Camila and Dua both grab their smoothies before heading upstairs to Camila’s bathroom. “Thanks, Als!” Camila calls over her shoulder.

Ally waves her off. “No problem. Just don’t be late.”

“We won’t!”

Much like the Cabello siblings have their own kitchen routine, Dua and Camila have their own routine in Camila’s bathroom. Nothing sexual- most of the time. But it actually works out pretty well because Camila usually wears quite a bit of makeup and Dua wears next to none, but Camila leaves her hair natural and Dua likes to straighten hers, so they switch off fairly smoothly and Camila has a very big bathroom and it all fits together neatly.

Today they’re moving a little slower than most days, so by the time they’re dressed and walking downstairs Ally is already threatening to leave.

“Hurry up!” she demands, smoothie cup in one hand and two tennis bags in the other- one is her own, and the other is Camila’s. Dua and Camila put their empty cups by the sink and pick up the pace a little. Right as they’re about to walk out the door, Shawn trudges downstairs, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

“Bye, guys,” he grumbles, clearly still tired. “Bye, Shawn!” the three shout in unison as they slam the door shut.

Ally practically runs down their long driveway, tennis bags bouncing against her hip. Dua follows closely behind, and Camila’s picking her way down in her Louboutins and that fishnets-under-ripped-boyfriend-jeans thing that she’s become quite taken with. Ally hates it 'cause she thinks the fishnets are stupid, and Dua doesn’t quite understand the trend (she’s more of a simple t-shirt and sweatpants kind of girl) but she thinks Camila looks hot as hell in them regardless.

“Oh my goodness, hurry up!” Ally calls, but she’s laughing watching Camila struggle down their driveway. “I call shotgun!” Camila screams. God, she’s usually so fucking good at walking in ridiculous heels but their driveway is her worst nightmare because of how steep it is.

Dua, being the amazing girlfriend she is, even though she’s stifling chuckles at Camila trying to get to the car, holds the door open to the passenger side for Camila until she gets down, and shut it behind her like a true gentleman. “Chivalry isn’t dead,” Camila whispers loudly to Ally as Dua slides into the back seat next to their backpacks and Camila and Ally’s tennis bags.

Ally leans in really close and says in Camila’s ear, so Dua can’t hear her, “A real chivalrous girlfriend wouldn’t have just stood there and laughed at you, but that’s just me.”

Camila sucks in a sharp breath and gives Ally a meaningful look. What else was Dua supposed to do. Carry her? That’s just ridiculous.

But this has been a pattern over the last month or so- Ally and Shawn, mostly, and sometimes Harry, and a couple times Camila’s parents have even said a few things about it. Just little comments about Dua and Camila’s relationship: about whether they’re really serious, about if they really want to stay together when they both go off to college. Stuff like that. Camila has no idea where this is coming from, considering she and Dua have been together for three years (since the end of freshman year) and have never once stopped to take a break. And in Camila’s opinion? They really are serious.

The one thing is sex. They haven’t had sex. Dua has made a couple of advances (trust her, it was just really heavy petting) but Camila just doesn’t want to. Yes, she’s eighteen, and yes (as some people, including Dua, have mentioned) she sometimes (all the time) dresses like she’s twenty-five and at a club, but it’s not a crime that she doesn’t want to have sex. She’s not going to be pressured into anything. She’s simply not ready.

It’ll happen eventually, anyway, so… who even cares? Why is she even thinking about this? She’s going to have sex with Dua. Probably. Definitely. Just… not right now. Maybe when they, uh, get married.

Married. It’s weird, because Dua and Camila have been together for a while, but something in her just can’t imagine walking down the aisle with Dua. Or even proposing. But that’s probably just because she hasn’t really seen lesbian weddings in modern media except in Glee, and Glee doesn’t reflect on real life at all.

They haven’t even talked about it. They haven’t even talked about what’s going to happen after they graduate and Camila inevitably goes to Harvard and Dua inevitably goes to some arty-farty school in Washington and they have to do a long-distance relationship or- or break up.

They haven’t talked about any of it.

Camila wonders if they’ll ever talk about it.

She turns her attention back to Ally, who is explaining to Dua where exactly the Cabello parents are this time.

“Sinu’s somewhere in Europe right now. She just came out with her new fall line- oh my goodness, have you seen it?” Ally’s eyes are shining, something that happens every time she talks about her mother’s career. “It’s gorgeous. I love it so, so much. It’s all over Instagram and Tumblr- did you know she let me look over her rough sketches and give my input on it?” She’s practically glowing.

Anyone who knows Camila knows she loves her clothes- designer brands and new internet trends and sky-high heels- but Ally is the true style aficionado in their family.

She takes after their mother, of course.

Sinuhe Cabello, the founder, namesake, head designer, and CEO of the iconic Cabello fashion brand, had risen to fame when she was just twenty years old. Newly pregnant. Newly married. She barely had anything except her talent, her compassion, and her brain. No money. No connections.

And now she’s here. Four kids and billions of dollars later and Camila thinks her mother is the most influential, amazing, inspiring person she’s ever met. And all of the Cabello kids see their mother the same way.

Even though she was always busy, she was always, always there for them. They never felt neglected or unloved. Sinu had always made an effort to be a huge part of their lives, even if it was over Skype calls or good morning and good night texts. She was just so there, even when she wasn’t there in person.

“And Ale’s giving a seminar in Arizona, I think. But he’s coming back tonight to take us out for dinner, which is really nice.” Ally turns to look at Camila. “Where did he say we were going tonight?”

And then there was their father, Dr. Alejandro Cabello, the brilliant psychologist-turned-writer who also spends his fair share of time in the spotlight due to his three bestselling novels. He is a former Harvard professor, he comes from one of the most influential, well-connected families in America, he’s one of the most intelligent people in the world, and he’s also easily the biggest, mushiest dork that Camila has ever come in contact with.

He’s also gone a lot, but not as much as he used to be, and definitely not as much as Sinu is. Alejandro puts in the same amount of effort into seeing his kids as much as possible, and it reflects a lot of his relationship with all four. Harry, being the first Cabello child and therefore experiencing the first overwhelming stages of Sinu’s fame, didn’t see his parents while growing up as much as Camila, the baby of the family, did, but you’d never be able to tell. Camila and Harry are equally close to their parents, which is almost impossible to reach considering the circumstances but they made it work somehow.

As long as Camila could remember, her parents had always been famous. She was born into fame. All of the Cabello kids were. And maybe some of that contributed to parenting that many people in the past have called “eccentric” at best and “life-ruining” at worst. For example, how Sinu and Ale insist the kids call them by their first names, instead of “mom” or “dad”. Or how Sinu and Ale have taken some pretty drastic measures in order to keep their kids out of the fickle world of fame, and have done some borderline insane things (including making detrimental career choices ) to do things like show up to Harry and Shawn’s high school graduation, or one of Camila or Ally’s concerts.

But it doesn’t really matter what other people say. They love their parents in the end. And their parents love them. Camila is very, very grateful for her family. For all they’ve given her, she would be the most selfish person in the world not to be.

“I don’t know,” Camila says to Ally. “I’m pretty sure he said it was some really fancy restaurant, but we’re definitely gonna end up at McDonald’s or something.”

“Of course we are.” Ally giggles at that.

As she pulls her Lamborghini (18th birthday presents from Sinu and Ale; Ally got one in white, Camila has one in black) into the school’s parking lot, there’s the usual commotion. Another “questionable” parenting choice: sending their kids to public school. All of them but Harry attended Restrepo High School, which although was decidedly not ghetto or anything, was definitely not the flashy all-boys private school Harry went to. Basically, seeing a Lambo wasn’t exactly the norm, ever.

Ally, Camila, and Dua step out of the car, and people start to lose interest. Despite Ally and Camila’s money-filled upbringing, neither of them are very popular. Ally is too genuine and introverted to care about popularity, and Camila is just… a nerd. She does Mathletes and the Interact club and she’s an officer of a handful of others, and though it looks stellar on college applications other people just mostly think she’s a nerd.

(Also, like she said before, most of the time she dresses like she’s twenty-five and an Instagram model, which is somehow not cool to anyone in real life under the age of eighteen. It’s actually really disappointing.)

She’s also pretty involved in theatre and drama- she’s been in the musical ever since freshman year. She loves drama, and choir, and pretty much anything where she gets to be on stage.

Ally is different in the way that she’s a literal piano prodigy- like, dear god, she’s amazing- and she’s also a star tennis player and is nationally ranked. Sure, they both play tennis, but Ally is an incredible player and Camila is only doing it so she has a sport on her college applications. She’s so uncoordinated and honestly pretty fucking awful at it.

They’re both involved in a lot of “lame” activites so they only have a few close friends, which would probably be lonelier if they didn’t have each other.

Camila always says she loves all of her siblings equally, which is true, for the most part. It’s just… she and Ally are each other’s ride or die. Always have been, always will be. They literally grew up side by side, doing everything together, because they don’t have the age gap they have with Harry or Shawn. They share everything: clothes, makeup, hair stuff, perfume, homework, books, food, music, secrets, and similar opinions on a lot of important topics, whether it be social or political. They’re absolute best friends- and yeah, sometimes people think it’s dumb that Camila’s best friend is her sister, but she’s not ashamed of it. They come as a team. You rarely ever will get one without the other.

They bicker occasionally, of course, as all siblings do, but they’ve never gone more than a day without speaking because they just can’t handle it. Who else are they going to trust with… everything?

Dua is Camila’s girlfriend, and she’s one of her closest friends. Perhaps her only close friend if you don’t count her family. But there are some things that Camila can’t tell her. Some things that she wouldn’t tell anyone voluntarily. The things that she stacks in the farthest corner of her brain, folded up and covered in dust. Dua doesn’t pry because she doesn’t even know they’re there- that’s how far back they’re hidden. They’re not talked about. It’s almost like if Camila pretends hard enough, they’re not even there, and never were in the first place.

Those are the things Camila would never tell anyone, and those are the things that Ally already knows.

-

After school, Camila and Ally have gratuitous two-hour tennis practices, and then Camila has to go straight to voice lessons and Ally has to go to piano lessons. Like everything else in the Cabello household, this is scheduled almost to a T: Camila and Ally change quickly in the locker room, then Ally drops Camila off at her voice lesson, then Ally drives herself to her piano lesson. Camila’s voice lesson finishes about fifteen minutes earlier than Ally’s flute lesson, so Harry, who is just getting off work by then, picks up Camila and drives to the Starbucks nearby.

Camila will get some sort of latte and Harry will get something unnecessarily strong considering it’s seven o’ clock in the evening. Ally meets them there and they help each other out with their homework before heading back home an hour and a half later.

They get their crazy time-management-obsessed genes from both their parents.

Speaking of which, when they get home, Alejandro is waiting for them with open arms.

“Ale!” Camila yells, bombarding her father with a hug. Harry and Ally quickly follow suit, and Shawn (a few minutes off their near-perfect schedule) bursts through the door and shouts, “You’re home!” Then an inevitable “ugh, I’m late!”

“How was Arizona?” Harry’s eyes are huge and interested- out of the four of them, he’s the most engrossed in Ale’s work, but Camila isn’t far behind.

“Fantastic. I love Arizona. If it wasn’t so inconvenient, you bet your asses we would be living there.”

Camila sees so much of herself in Ale. Everybody always tells her that they’re pretty much the same person.

“Don’t swear,” Ally reprimands, clicking her tongue disapprovingly- something she stole directly from their mother. Alejandro scrunches up his nose. “Oh, sorry. You bet your bottoms. Woo. Arizona. E for everyone.”

Camila and Harry crack up laughing in exactly the same way: large peals of hysterical, breath-catching laughter, where they double over and clap their hands a lot. Ally looks rightly miffed. Shawn looks surprised for a second, and then shakes his head and chuckles.

“So, what do you guys think about going to Cheesecake Factory for dinner?” Alejandro proposes. “They have some nice calamari. And really good bread. And cheesecake.”

“I’m down!” Camila grins like a Cheshire cat. Ally sighs and says, “Sure.” Harry and Shawn both agree with twin smiles. Then they return to their debate on whether the drinking age should be lowered from 21 or not- but that’s their thing, you know. Random debates. Camila doesn’t quite get the appeal.

They’re almost out the door when Alejandro’s phone starts to ring.

When he picks it up, Camila knows that it’s her mother on the phone, but from the way Alejandro’s lips are twisted, made to hide a smile, she can already tell that some dumb joke is coming.

“Offspring,” Alejandro announces dramatically, “your mom is on the phone. Please be little darlings and don’t tell her about the meth lab we built in the basement while she was gone. Or that we sold her rough drafts of her 2017-2018 winter collection or eBay to pay for it.” He smiles a fake saccharine smile.

Camila bursts out laughing. Ally squints at him and takes the phone. “I want a divorce,” sounds Sinu’s voice from the phone. Camila can tell she’s struggling to fight the exact same laugh Camila let loose seconds earlier.

“No,” Alejandro says.

“Well, screw you.”

“No, but kids get alcohol either way, right? It doesn’t matter if it’s legal.” Oh, that’s just Harry. Are they still talking about that?

“We don’t even have a basement?” Ally interrupts. “This is California? AKA earthquake land? That’s actually really dangerous?”

“Hi, Sinu!” Camila cheers.

“Hi, sweetheart. Thank you for keeping your father in line while I’m gone. I know he needs a whole lotta help.”

“What the fuck, babe?” Alejandro exclaims at the same time Ally protests, “I’m the one keeping him in line!” They look at each other and narrow their eyes with matching scowls. This isn’t over, Ally mouths. Alejandro makes a face at her.

“Don’t swear in front of the kids,” Sinu says. “That’s what I told him!” shouts Ally.

“I swear to god, Sinu, you are influencing our daughter too much.”

“Sinu, when are you coming home?” Shawn yells much louder than necessary. “We all miss you a lot,” Harry adds.

“Aw, I miss you guys too,” Sinu coos, voice softening. “I’m going to be home Wednesday night, but I promise I’ll call you guys once in the morning and once in the evening, okay? On schedule, like always.”

“Okay,” Camila and Ally say in unison. “Well, we gotta go, or Cheesecake Factory is going to close, so we’ll see you later?” Camila asks Sinu.

“Sounds good. I’m giving you a thumbs up but you can’t see it.” That’s classic Sinu, and Camila feels a rush of warmth for her mom- even though she’s not there in person she still seems like she’s all around.

“We love you!” the Cabello kids chorus as one, and Alejandro chuckles above them all. “I love you, honey,” he tells her.

“Love you too, Ale.” They can practically hear the fond smile in Sinu’s voice. “And I love all you guys. Don’t have too much fun without me. See you soon!”

The phone clicks off, and there’s a small silence: one for the millions of times it felt empty without their mother there, but quickly followed with the knowledge that she’d always be there for them, no matter what. And just the same, the quiet is filled with chatter about school and work and love and morals and philosophy and anything the five can think of, because they share the same blood, and they know it makes them feel better to let everything out through words.

Bottling it up never works. Camila knows it never works. She’s had so much- too much- experience with bottling up all of her emotions. It never leads to anything good. It never has in the past. But Camila tries not to think about the past too much.

It’s better now, anyway.

-

There is nothing Lauren loves more than her job.

She comes to this  conclusion when she’s backstage, waiting to perform, and Dinah won't  stop flicking the side of Normani’s head while Normani struggles to lace  up her knee-length heeled boots.

“Dinah, you annoying  little shit, stop it.” Normani shoots her a deadly glare and pokes  Dinah’s forehead with a single long acrylic nail. Dinah yelps, rubs her  forehead, and flips Normani off.

“If you don’t treat your  mama right, bye-bye, bye-bye.” Lauren mutters the lyrics of their song  “Lonely Night” under her breath. “If you got another chick on the side,  bye-bye, bye-bye.” Normani’s smooth, silky voice harmonizes perfectly  with her own.

“You look everywhere but  my eyes, bye-bye, bye-bye,” Normani chimes in. “It’s gonna be a lonely,  lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely night- bye-bye.”

The voice of their stage  manager, Corinna, comes through their in-ears. “Girls, you’re on in  fifteen. Make sure your clothes are good, okay? We don’t want another  situation like New Jersey to happen here.”

The three girls grimace  at the mention of New Jersey. They all like the state, but the last time  they were there Dinah had a little wardrobe malfunction (her tight bra  top came untied; nothing was revealed, but it was a close call) and  Lauren tripped three times (three. Three!) in her high-ass heels. The  heel part wasn’t the clothes’ fault, just Lauren’s for being clumsy. But  Corinna’s right to warn them. This is just prep for their upcoming  world tour, after all.

They’re currently  opening for Demi Lovato on her Tell Me You Love Me tour, and honestly  Lauren would probably be way more starstruck if Demi hadn’t been their  mentor on the X Factor, where they were discovered. She was such a great  teacher for them, and they actually became pretty good friends, so it  was a really cool full-circle kind of thing that they’re opening for her  tour now before they go on their own full world tour. And god, Lauren's  so excited.

Yes, of course, any tour is amazing, and opening for Demi has been such an incredible  opportunity for the three of them, but Lauren can’t wait for their own chance. Their first true world tour, displaying their first real album.

Now that the Tell Me You Love Me tour is coming to a close, Lauren thinks she has a pretty good  grasp on how everything works. They have a good team, a good designer, and amazing fans- they just have such a nice support system that Lauren never appreciated before this. But now she knows the importance of all those working parts coming together. And really, she couldn’t be happier about it.

Lauren turns to her bandmates. “Do I look okay?” She flips her dark hair, curled and pinned  back with bobby pins. Usually, she goes for a nude lip, but today she's  wearing red 'cause some fan accounts on Twitter said she looked good with it.

And she trusts her fans.

“Yeah, you look hot,"  Normani says, and she gives Lauren one of her overly flirtatious winks  so Lauren knows she really means it.

"Is my hickey covered?”

“Dinah, what the fuck?” Lauren is taken aback. “Who the fuck did you hook up with?”

“Watch your fucking language,” Normani tells her. Lauren looks at Dinah pointedly, waiting  for an answer., but Dinah looks away, blushing slightly. “I- uh- um,  never mind. I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

Lauren sighs and sinks  down into one of the plastic chairs in their dressing room. “God, even  you’re getting more action than me.”

Normani laughs. “If you really want some 'action’, Laur, I’m right here.”

“Ugh, that’s gross."  Lauren reaches for the tube of red lipstick and chucks it at Normani's  face. "I’m not a fucking lesbian. Sorry to burst your bubble.”

She misses the way Normani’s lips quirk down in annoyance and the slightly hurt look on Dinah’s face.

“Okay, cool it with the homophobia,” Normani mutters.

Lauren’s eyebrows crease. “I’m not homophobic. Dude- just because I’m not gay doesn’t mean I don’t like gay people.”

“Yeah, I know, I've  heard your Twitter rants, babe. I’m just saying a lot of the stuff you  say whenever people bring up you possibly being gay kind of sounds like  you doth protest too much.”

“I don’t-”

“You’re being a little defensive,” Dinah adds bluntly.

“I’m. Not. Gay.” Lauren gets it out through clenched teeth. “Can we just drop it?”

Normani throws her head  back and exhales. “Yeah, sure. Sorry, Laur. You know we just bug you  sometimes because we care about you, right?”

“Yeah.” Lauren softens at both Normani’s tone and Dinah’s irresistible puppy dog eyes. “I love you guys.”

Normani rolls her eyes. “Bring it in, bitch.”

The three of them come  together in a tight hug. Lauren, being the shortest, starts giggling at  getting caught under Dinah’s arm, and all of a sudden they’re all  cracking up and falling all over each other.

Lauren knows they disregard things too much. They sweep topics like Lauren's  over-defensive nature when it comes to… certain topics… under the  rug. But in the end, they’re a team, and they don’t let “petty” things-  things like that- come between them.

They would never survive in this industry if they did.

-

WATTPAD: seattlhe

[mbtizone]

Sutton Brady (The Bold Type): ISFJ

Dominant Introverted Sensing [Si]: It’s hard for Sutton to break out of her comfort zone. She’s spent three years on Lauren’s desk, and even though her dream is to work in fashion, she’s too “realistic” to pursue it. Because Sutton spent her entire life being the adult in her relationship with her mother, she is hesitant when it comes to doing anything that might be considered impractical. She is hardworking, committed, and highly organized. Her past is important to her and her experiences define who she is. She’s sentimental and has a great memory, particularly for things that are personally significant to her. When she tries to make a board for Oliver, she doesn’t make it personal enough at first, and focuses more on what she thinks he wants to see. When she takes another stab at it, though, she makes it reflect who she is by decorating it with the U2 shirt she was wearing when her mother told her she couldn’t afford to send her to college. She uses her prom dress, her diary, and other physical, deeply personal items from her past to show Oliver who she is. Sutton loves fashion and uses clothing to express herself. She is reliable and wants to show people they can depend on her. Sutton has a keen eye for detail. She has trouble being able to enjoy porn because of the poor production values and would much rather use erotica.

Auxiliary Extroverted Feeling [Fe]: Sutton is encouraging, affirming, and supportive. When her friends achieve something, she is proud of them and celebrates their success. She wants to offer them help when they’re struggling, and will drop everything to be there for them. Sutton goes out of her way for other people and wants to be liked. She is very conscious of other people’s feelings and doesn’t like to make them angry or upset with her. She might think something negative, but she doesn’t typically say it aloud if it might hurt someone or cause conflict, which she hates. When Sutton has a moral dilemma, she asks her friends what they think she should do about it and listens to their opinions. She doesn’t know what to do when she realizes that Oliver is only considering her for the position she applied for because he thinks she went to FIT, and has trouble deciding whether or not to come clean with him. Sutton is in tune with the emotions of those around her and tries to get them to be okay with what they’re feeling. She tells Jane that it’s alright if she’s not fine. You don’t have to be fine! Sutton is comfortable with expressing what she’s feeling and encourages those around her to do the same. She can also easily discern what another person might have been feeling when they made a particular decision.

Tertiary Introverted Thinking [Ti]: It’s usually easy for Sutton to figure out the logical thing to do. Sutton is witty and usually has a quick, sarcastic remark for most situations. She’s good at analyzing situations and coming up with correct assumptions, particularly about the people around her. Sutton is particularly good at coming up with resolutions to interpersonal problems. When Kat is having trouble figuring out what to do about Adena, she initially suggests just asking her how she feels, but then she gets the idea to use the letter Adena asked Kat to write as an excuse to get together so Kat can use that time together to see how she feels. Although she sometimes lacks confidence in herself, Sutton is usually certain that she can come up with a way to solve whatever problem she faces. When Oliver finds out that Sutton allowed him to think she went to FIT when she didn’t, Sutton accepts responsibility for her actions and sets out to work on a way to get him to hire her despite her lie, and ends up being successful. Things that other people say sometimes give Sutton a “lightbulb” moment, allowing her to come up with the solution to her problem (Si-Ti). When Sutton loses $5,000 worth of jewelry that she was supposed to procure for Oliver in a cab, it isn’t until Alex says “Big brother’s always watching” that she thinks to go back to where she got out of the cab and check for security cameras that might’ve recorded her that day.

Inferior Extroverted Intuition [Ne]: Although it may take some time for her to do it, Sutton is able to take risks. She keeps a $100 bill with her at all times, so that if she fails, she can buy a ticket back to her hometown, but eventually decides to apply for a new job and spends the money on a bottle of celebratory champagne and makes a toast to “crazy dreams.” The unknown is often frightening for her and she likes having a safety net. However, Sutton is creative (as evidenced by her fashion board), and is capable of taking chances (though, she only does so after intense deliberation). Sutton makes connections in her mind, typically to things she’s seen, read, or heard in the past, and typically uses them in her sense of humor (Si-Ne). Sutton can sometimes have trouble making decisions, particularly when she must decide between something practical and stable, and something new and unknown. When she’s offered the job she wanted “more than she’s ever wanted anything,” she reconsiders taking it once she realizes it pays less than her current job.

Enneagram: 6w7 3w2 1w9 Sp/So

Note: Sutton’s gut type is either 9 or 1. Whichever wing she has is very strong, so it’s difficult to decide. If you look at the 1 versus the 9 individually, she seems to fit 9 more, but if you look at the archetypes for 136 and 369, Sutton fits with 136 a lot better.

Quotes:

Sutton: When we started together as assistants, I had no idea that you guys would also become my very best friends. Jane, we’re so happy for you and so incredibly proud.

Kat: I’m gonna persuade that artist to be in the magazine. Sutton: Oh, no Kat. I would let it go. Lauren was not happy today. Kat: Well that’s just because she’s threatened by anyone young with ambition. Sutton: Well, Jacqueline wasn’t happy about it, either. Kat: Well, she wasn’t happy about the interruption. But she was basically telling me to go after that story. Sutton: I wanna be as confident as her. How did she get to be so confident?

Jane: God, it’s so weird being back here. I mean, how many hours did I spend hanging out on those steps with him? It’s okay, it’s okay. No need to be melodramatic. I’m fine. Sutton: Jane, he’s the first guy that you said “I love you” to. It’s okay to not be fine. Jane: But I’m seriously fine.

Sutton: Kat, where are you going? Kat: I don’t know, okay? I don’t know. I need to go to the consolate or… or call the… I don’t know. I just – I need to do something. Sutton: There’s nothing you can do. Jane: It’s gonna be okay. Kat: They could send her to jail forever or worse and it is completely my fault. Sutton: Hey, it is not your fault. Kat: Yes it is! I gave her the vibrator. It was my idea to smuggle them in all because I- I just – I need to fix this. Jane: No, what you need to do right now is just scream. When I was a kid in Colorado, I would hike up the mountains and scream. Just let it out. Kat: Well that is a beautiful story, Jane, but unfortunately this is not Colorado, this is New York City and there is literally nowhere in this entire city where people aren’t always on top of you.

Sutton: We’re just trying to help you. Kat: What are you gonna do to help, Sutton? You gonna call your boyfriend and see if maybe he can fix the problem for me? I gotta go. Sutton: You know what, if she wants to go through this alone, let her.

Sutton: I wanna be the girl you can’t stop thinking about. I deserve that.

Kat: Men are always such a let down. I can get the job done better myself. Sutton: That’s because you never stick around long enough. Takes time to train them.

Kat: Why don’t you just admit that you want to work in fashion? Sutton: Everybody wants to work in fashion, but it requires this little magical thing called talent. Kat: You have talent.

Sutton: My mother is complicated. I had to be the adult. It made more sense for me to do something practical.

Sutton: Honestly, it’s the production value of half of this stuff that turns me off. Give me an erotic novel any day of the week. Jane: Wait you like- Sutton: Get myself off to high-end errogenous literature? Oh, yeah. Henry Miller, am I right?

Sutton: No way. I mean, even if I could get a foot in the door, there’s no money in it. Unless you really make it, which, I mean, the odds of that happening are basically zero.

Sutton: I just feel like they don’t know what this could mean for me. Kat, especially. She’s never had to worry about money. She doesn’t have student loans and a mom who can’t pay her own bills. This job could literally change my life.

Alex: Okay, forget the money. What’s your dream? Sutton: Fashion. I’ve always loved it. But it’s too risky, you know? I can’t afford to fail and there are practicalities that I need to consider.

Kat: God, I feel like such an idiot. I just completely misread that whole situation. Sutton: You’re not an idiot. Jane: No, you’re not. I mean, you’re the bravest person I know. You take risks and you put yourself out there. I mean, I wish I could be more like you. Sutton: Yeah. Me too. Kat: Like I said, you gotta do something crazy. Jane: I can. And I will.

Alex: What are we drinking to? Sutton: Crazy dreams.

Sutton: I am not gonna let her hold me back. Jane: Good for you, babe. Sutton: Oh, I am going full Hamilton on this. Cause I’m the definition of young, scrappy, and hungry, and I’m out.

Jane: Huff Po did a profile on the congresswoman, and it was basically what I was gonna write, excpet they actually got a quote. Sutton: Oh, man. That’s awful. Jane: It is what it is. So I’m doing a piece on congressional fashion. Sutton: Yeah, that’s what I was talking about. That jumpsuit is beyond awful. Jane: Okay, you’re part of the problem. You should be criticizing her politics, not her pantsuits. I mean, look at these comments. They’re just… mean. Sutton: A walking popsicle? A Star Trek reject on acid? How much do people suck on the internet this week? Jane: This was the day that she decided to roll back the Clean Water Act… but instead of talking about that, they’re all talking about this hideous lime green situation. And then she turned around and said that she was being unfairly attacked as a woman, and that became a story. Sutton: I mean, I would never say this to her, and I would never put it on the internet, but to you I’ll say: that’s a terrible color for an adult. How does she not know that? Jane: I think she does. Here. “So when I choose an outfit, I’m always thinking, what am I trying to communicate? How can I use fashion to my advantage? Sutton: What are you doing? Jane: I’m seeing what she wore when she did that press conference defending the Keystone Pipeline. Ha! It’s hideous. Sutton: It is hideous. Jane: She is using fashion as a smokescreen. Sutton: That’s kind of genius. Jane: And I have my article.

Sutton: I have to tell him. I have to tell him, right? Jane: Yes. Kat: No.

Jane: Stop making excuses. You rewarded yourself, which you deserve to do.

Sutton: I hate conflict. And I don’t want Oliver to think that I’m not grateful.

Sutton: You’re really good at your job.

Kat: Hey, so according to this, I have to speak to Adena’s unique skills. Okay, see, now it makes sense why she wants me to do it… “and submit on official letterhead.” Sutton: Sorry, not seeing the significance here. Kat: God, it is a dark day when I’m the most legit person in someone’s life. Sutton: Or she really cares about the way that you see her. Kat: You know, I cannot get a read on her. Sutton: It’s a crazy idea, but you could ask her how she feels. Or better yet, use the letter as an excuse to hang out. Kat: Sutton Brady, are you asking me to lie? Sutton: No. Definitely not. But I am telling you to use the situation to your advantage. Tell her that you want to get the letter right, but you have questions, and then while you’re asking those questions… see how you feel. Kat: You know, that’s actually not a bad idea.

Oliver: So… this is it? Sutton: This is it. Oliver: I can really see the FIT influence. Sutton: You can? Oliver: Sutton, I’m gonna ask you a question. Did you really go to FIT? Sutton: Uh, no. And I know that I should have said something as soon as- Oliver: But you didn’t. In fact, your opening move in our relationship was to lie to me. Sutton: I know. I don’t know why- Oliver: Neither do I, Sutton. Thank you.

Richard: Sutton, I am so sorry. Sutton: No, it’s my fault. And I’m gonna deal with this myself.

Jane: What are you doing? Sutton: I was so close, Jane. I finally found something that I really want. Something that I’m actually good at. And you’re right. I can do this. And if I’m gonna go down, I’m gonna go down swingin’. So, I have to show Oliver who I really am. Jane: Okay, but what is… all this? Sutton: Well, that’s obviously my prom dress. Jane: Oh, obviously. Sutton: You know. And in here… is the U2 tanktop that I was wearing when my mom told me she couldn’t afford to send me to college. Jane: Did you bedazzle it yourself? Sutton: Yeah. And this is… my high school diary. Jane: Oh, it’s a letter from your dad. Sutton: Yeah… I just feel like if I’m gonna lose this job, it’s gonna be me who loses this job. You know? Not some fake FIT girl.

Kat: Jane, in 1986, seven New York women on a picnic were charged for showing “that portion” of the breast below the top of the areola. They appealed, and they won! Sutton: Yeah. Kat: Women fought for our right to do this. Sutton: Anywhere in New York that a man can take his top off, so can a woman. It’s the law. And I respect the law. Kat: This is our contribution in an ongoing mission to fight for women’s breast health and breast equality. Jane: Oh, come on! You’re just whipping your boobs out. Kat: Uh, yeah. Sutton: Sure. Jane: That is our water delivery guy. You guys are gonna flash the water delivery guy? Kat: It’s just a breast, Jane. Jane: Exactly. Which is why mine are going to stay in my bra where they belong. You two guys have fun though. Kat: Oh, yeah! I am! Sutton: Feels good!

Sutton: That’s been my desk for the past three years. And now I’m gonna keep walkin’.

Sutton: And I can’t stop hearing the recording of the mayor’s voice saying “Don’t forget your belongings.” I hated that thing! It freaks me out. It made me feel like he was watching me. Alex: Oh, big brother’s always watching. Sutton: You! That’s it. I have to go back to where the cab dropped me off. Do you wanna come?

Sutton Brady (The Bold Type): ISFJ was originally published on MBTI Zone

[lilacpisces1-blog]

Special Sauce: Tommy Tomlinson on Untangling Food, Love, and Loving Food

[Photograph: Jeff Cravotta. Burger photograph: Emily and Matt Clifton.]

It's pretty rare for a Special Sauce interview to speak so directly to me that it feels like I've been hit in the gut. But that's exactly what happened when I talked with Pulitzer Prize-nominated author Tommy Tomlinson, whose book The Elephant in the Room: One Fat Man's Quest to Get Smaller in a Growing America is a moving memoir about struggling with eating and weight issues.

As someone who has grappled with a weight problem my whole life, I identified with every word Tomlinson wrote and every bite he took, and I often felt during our conversation that he was speaking about my own experiences with food.

For example, here is Tomlinson on how food makes him feel: "I've never done hard drugs, but the feeling that I've heard people describe when they shoot heroin, for example that incredible rush and that warm feeling that goes over their body, is very similar to what I believe I feel when I have like a double cheeseburger from Wendy's. It's just this burst of pleasure and good feeling."

Tomlinson is similarly eloquent about how he started to make the connection between obesity and food: "I didn't really connect being overweight with eating because I was eating what everybody else in my family was eating. I just wasn't working the way they were working to burn off calories. And as I got older, I started to realize even more deeply that I had these two lives. I had this one life where I was successful and doing well, had good friends, had people who loved and cared about me. And had this second life where I had this addiction that I could not control. And...up until basically this book and me trying to figure it out, I never could reconcile those two things. And so, sure, I knew from early on that I had some fundamental issue, I just never could figure out what it was."

And here he is on the fraught relationship between food and love: "And then there's stuff that's very common in food which is it's about love and affection. Your family has made this gift for you often still to this day it's your mom or your grandmother or somebody like that has made this thing. And they've sacrificed and they've sweated over it. And they've worked on this recipe for years. And it's a family tradition. And they always have it. And so for you just to not indulge in it carries a whole lot of symbolic weight. It's like rejecting the people who love you."

This episode of Special Sauce made me laugh, made me cry, and made me think, and any podcast that can make you do all three of those things is worth listening to, whether you struggle with your weight or not.

Special Sauce is available on iTunes, Google Play Music, Soundcloud, Player FM, and Stitcher. You can also find the archive of all our episodes here on Serious Eats and on this RSS feed.

Want to chat with me and our unbelievably talented recipe developers? We're accepting questions for Special Sauce call-in episodes now. Do you have a recurring argument with your spouse over the best way to maintain a cast iron skillet? Have you been working on your mac and cheese recipe for the past five years, but can't quite get it right? Does your brother-in-law make the worst lasagna, and you want to figure out how to give him tips? We want to get to know you and solve all your food-related problems. Send us the whole story at [email protected].

Ed Levine: Welcome to Special Sauce, Serious Eats' podcast about food and life. Every week on Special Sauce we talk to some of the leading lights of American culture, food folks, and non-food folks alike.

Tommy Tomlinson: I'm never done hard drugs, but the feeling that I've heard people describe when they shoot heroin, for example that incredible rush and that warm feeling that goes over their body, is very similar to what I believe I feel when I have like a double cheeseburger from Wendy's. It's just this burst of pleasure and good feeling.

EL: Today I'm thrilled to be talking with the terrific writer, Pulitzer Prize finalist, podcaster... What else can I say about you, Tommy? Freelance writer extraordinaire.

TT: Man about town.

EL: Tommy Tomlinson. Tommy is the host of the podcast SouthBound in partnership with WFAI. But we're here because he's the author of the remarkably brave and candid, The Elephant in the Room: One Man's Fat Quest to Get Smaller in a Growing America. And I have to say, Tommy, I couldn't improve upon the press release copy, so pardon me for plagiarizing. "This moving memoir is at once a meditation on weight and identity and a candid and sometimes brutal look at the everyday experience of being constantly aware of your size, obsessing over where you're going to sit at basketball games and restaurants or dreading the lurch of a packed subway and the fear and guilt that result." Wow. Man, did you write that?

TT: I did not. But whoever did deserves a raise.

EL: Exactly. So welcome to Special Sauce, Tommy Tomlinson. It's so good to have you here.

TT: Thank you so much, Ed. I appreciate you having me on.

EL: I literally read your book twice. I'm a little embarrassed to say that. Some people will read like A Tale of Two Cities twice or Middlemarch. I read The Elephant in the Room twice.

TT: That's good company. I'll stay in that company all day.

EL: But weight is something I too have struggled with my whole life. So The Elephant in the Room speaks to me on so many levels. I once chronicled on Serious Eats my lifelong struggle with weight in a series of posts that were weekly for more than two years called Ed Levine's Serious Diet. And I would literally get on the scale every week and tell people how I was doing.

TT: That's brave.

EL: So let's talk about life at the Tomlinson family table which you obviously go into in the book. So it's a particularly relevant question for you.

TT: Well, back in my growing up years, I grew up in the Deep South on the coast of Georgia. And my family was a very Deep Southern country family. My mom and dad picked cotton when they were young. They were sharecroppers. And so they lived in a world where you could eat whatever you wanted because they would burn it off at work during the day.

TT: And so by the time I came around I was leading a softer life but we still had these big Southern meals, especially things like family reunions where there would be five or six meats. There would always be a huge platter of fried chicken in the middle of the table. And they would always, called the white food group, which is like mashed potatoes, potato salad, deviled eggs, rice, that sort of thing. Biscuits and cornbread. And then all these vegetables which were fresh out of the garden but also cooked with ham or bacon or fatback for seasoning. And then the deserts which were pecan pie, peach cobbler, pound cake, and all these incredible desserts that we had. Those were meals that up through my generation of my family. They could eat that and they'd just go off and work it off the next day.

TT: Well, I had a different life and that's part of the reason I got so big.

EL: Yeah, that's interesting. And it was your mom. Your mom was a good old fashioned country cook, right?

TT: Oh, absolutely. I mean everything. We had usually a coffee can on the back of the stove where she kept the bacon grease. So when she made bacon in the morning, she would save that leftover grease and put it in that little pot, that little can, and then would use that for later meals. So something that was very common is we fished a lot. And so we would catch catfish let's say. And she would use that bacon grease to fry the catfish in. And so the catfish would have that not only its own flavor but that bacon flavor too which was just incredibly intoxicating.

EL: I want that right now.

TT: I know. I know.

EL: Can I say that?

TT: Me too.

EL: So were you hyper-aware? Were you always aware? Like for me when I was a kid, I couldn't escape it because I shopped at the husky section at Meijer's department store.

TT: I was too big for the husky section of the department store. When I was a little kid, we tried to shop at Sears and JCPenney's and places like that. But eventually by my teenage years I'd even grown out of those stores. And so in the town where I grew up, Brunswick, Georgia, there was one big and tall store. It was called PS Menswear. And the clothes there are always out of style, often by 10 or 20 years. Nothing ever fit quite right. There was never any of the cool things that the other kids were wearing were never in that store.

EL: Right. There was no Ralph Lauren for big guys.

TT: Right. When I was a kid, it was Izod shirts. When I was a teenager, that was the cool thing. I'd never once saw an Izod shirt in that store. And so I would go in there with all these other overweight men usually and often teenagers with their moms. And we were all just incredibly ashamed and embarrassed to be there. And we would grab whatever came even close to fitting and go in the little dressing room to try it. And the worst days are when even those things wouldn't fit. And I remember a couple of those days when even the stuff in the big and tall store wouldn't fit. And I remember just going away incredibly frustrated. Like, "How am I going to dress myself for the rest of my life?"

TT: My mom managed to patch up a lot of the old things I had, let out some stuff, and sort of keep me in clothes for a while. But that was always a problem for me.

EL: And you talk in the book about being teased. And I remember when I was in junior high school they used to say, "Hey, it's fast Eddy without the S." Did you have that stuff too?

TT: That's among the more clever ones, actually. I mean, yeah, you always hear like, "Fatty, fatty, two-by-four can't get through the bathroom door." And all that stuff. But what I remember more than verbal stuff are just kind of insults was just the way people looked at you differently or laughed. I have a scene in the book where I talk about the relay races that we used to run when I was in elementary school. So they get like the whole grade into two big lines where it'd be a race grade against grade. And there'd be maybe 30 people in each line. And people would shift around because they wanted to be matched up against somebody who was sort of their equal. And I always got matched up against this one girl named Pamela who was as big as I was. And we were about the same speed. Some days I was faster than her. And that made me really happy. Some days she was faster than me and I was just devastated. What I always remember about those races is we would run from the line to this big pine tree in our school yard, touch the tree and turn around and run back. Every time Pamela and I went to that tree and touched it and turned back, I could see the other kids laughing at us. And I'm never going to forget that.

EL: Yeah, it's weird. We all have those childhood moments. And yet you were... From reading the book like me you were eating unconsciously. You had no idea why you were eating as compulsively as you were, right?

TT: Yeah, a lot of the books I've read on this subject start with some incredible trauma. Like somebody was abused as a child or something like that. That wasn't true in my case. I had an incredibly happy childhood. I had two parents who loved me. Very stable. We didn't have much money. But it was a very stable childhood. I had friends, good friends. I did well academically and all those sorts of things. This was just the one thing that I always had in me that sort of constant craving for more and more and more. And that has led all the way through my life basically.

EL: I want to talk about what food meant to you then and what food means to you now. But there's this amazing section in the book where you talk about that by any reasonable standard I won life's lottery. Then you say, "Except in those mornings and I take a long naked look in the mirror. My body is a car wreck. Skin tags. Long mole-like growths caused by chaffing dangle under my arms and down on my crotch. I have breasts where my chest ought to be." And then you say, "Some days when I see that disaster staring back, I get so mad that I pound my gut with my fists as if I could beat the fat out of me." Then you end that section with, "What the hell is wrong with me?" So when you just couldn't figure out what to do about it.

TT: As you said, it didn't really dawn on me at first. I didn't really connect being overweight with eating because I was eating what everybody else in my family was eating. I just wasn't working the way they were working to burn off calories. And as I got older, I started to realize even more deeply that I had these two lives. I had this one life where I was successful and doing well, had good friends, had people who loved and cared about me. And had this second life where I had this addiction that I could not control. And I never... up until basically this book and me trying to figure it out, I never could reconcile those two things. And so sure I knew from early on that I had some fundamental issue I just never could figure out what it was.

EL: So your dad had various jobs according to the book. And your mom worked as well, right?

TT: Yeah, they both worked. So when I came around they'd met at a seafood packing plant down in Georgia. So basically factory jobs. But my dad later on was a carpenter. He could fix anything. And my mom later on was a waitress for a long time. They always worked these blue-collar jobs. When they were young, they were sharecroppers. They picked cotton in other people's fields down in south Georgia. And so they always had the type of jobs where they could burn off big meals all the time. And this is a big shift not just in my family but in many American families where the culture goes from blue-collar work to white-collar work. But the food doesn't change. So we were eating those same big meals that they ate all their lives because they had needed that fuel to cover them for being in the cotton field for 14 hours a day. Well, they worked really, really hard in their lives so I wouldn't have to. And so I grew up sort of this bookish kid who was destined for a desk job. But I was eating those same meals. And so that's why I got big, and they didn't because we were eating the same meals but with different lifestyles.

EL: And when you were growing up, I mean in the book you go back and forth between the micro issues you're confronting and the macro issues that the country is facing with the obesity epidemic. And you say that fat America runs on the fuel of easy and cheap junk food motivated by constant adds for burgers and beers soothed and sated by oversized portions. And you also say, "As every fat person knows, there's no such thing as a cheap buffet. You always pay later one way or another. Fat America comes with a devastating bill. According to government estimates, Americans pay $147 billion a year in medical costs related to obesity." But back when you were growing up, and I think you're a little younger than me, but back... People didn't talk about the obesity epidemic, right? There wasn't a lot of macro chatter about it.

TT: Well, I think that's because there probably wasn't that much of an obesity epidemic because so many people still worked really blue-collar industrial-type jobs. And so it's really hard to get fat when you're sweating in a mill for 8 or 10 hours a day. And so I remember there being certainly overweight people walking around that I saw and encountered in my life. I went back for this book and went back and looked at some of my old school pictures like the class photos and stuff. And I was always the biggest kid in the class but there were other kids who were overweight too, but not nearly to the extent that people are now. If you just sit on a bench in the park and you watch 20 people walk by, 8 or 10 of them are going to be pretty seriously overweight. And that is I think part of this shift in the culture of work. And the vast amount of money that's to be made in selling high calorie, high fat food to people. As I said in the book, the movie theater closest to our house, a small coke is now 32 ounces. That's a quart of coke. In no world should a small anything be 32 ounces.

EL: That's true.

TT: But portion sizes have grown and grown and grown over the years as these food providers, restaurants, and theaters and places like that are competing for the audience. The audience reacts to having bigger and bigger portions. Everything's bigger.

EL: Yeah, you live in the South where Hardee's has been marketing two-pound hamburgers or whatever for so long now. It's like you can't have a big enough Hardee's burger in their universe.

TT: Yeah, and each one has like, "Here we've got the burger and we're putting on half a pound of barbecue," or, "We're slapping a couple of fried eggs on there," or whatever it is to make it even worse. And so yeah, I mean it's astonishing now if you go look at the calorie counts for some of those Hardy's burgers or some of those other places, the one that always, the place that always freaks me out is the Cheesecake Factory. If you ate a regular meal at the Cheesecake Factory, you'd have to run halfway across the country to burn off that meal.

EL: It's true.

TT: It's just an astonishing amount of butter and sugar and grease that goes into making something like that. We're all vulnerable to that kind of stuff.

EL: Yeah. You say in the book what food is about to you and you say that food is connection. Food is friendship. Food is a certain kind of love. But you also then later in the book talk about pleasure and even in the beginning of the book you say, "Bless me father for I have sinned. I lust after greasy double cheeseburgers and fried chicken legs and Ruffles straight out of the bag. I covet hot Krispy Kreme donuts that melt on my tongue. I worship bowls full of peanut M&Ms, first savoring them one-by-one then stuffing my mouth with handfuls, then wetting my fingers to pick up those last bits of chocolate dust and candy shell." For all of us that deal with weight problems food represents so many things to us.

TT: Well, first of all as you just described, it's a great pleasure. I've never done hard drugs. But the feeling that I've heard people describe when they shoot heroin for example that incredible rush and that warm feeling that goes over their body is very similar to what I believe I feel when I have a double cheeseburger from Wendy's. It's just a powerful... It's just this burst of pleasure and good feeling. But yes, beyond that in my family growing up we didn't have much money and so food represented in some ways the only real wealth we had. Our table at dinner time was as good or better than anybody in town's. We knew that we were wealthy at the table. And then there's stuff that's very common in food which is it's about love and affection. Your family has made this gift for you often still to this day it's your mom or your grandmother or somebody like that has made this thing. And they've sacrificed and they've sweated over it. And they've worked on this recipe for years. And it's a family tradition. And they always have it. And so for you just to not indulge in it carries a whole lot of symbolic weight. It's like rejecting the people who love you.

EL: It's true. In my family my grandmother, everyone has these stories in their family. And my grandmother was the good cook, an old Eastern European Jewish cook. And there's the story of when my oldest brother brought home three friends from college and there were seven of us at the table. And we consumed a hundred blintzes. But everyone has that. Your book is full of those moments.

TT: I had a very similar experience in college. I brought several of my roommates home. We were going to see a football game the next day. And so they slept over at our house. And my mom made what for us was a pretty typical meal. And I could see one of the guys in particular who didn't grow up in sort of a traditional Southern household with every bowl and platter and basket my mom brought to the table, his eyes got bigger and bigger and bigger. He was thinking like, "How many people are you feeding here? Are you feeding 30 people? There's just 5 of us here."

EL: That's awesome.

TT: And so the level of, first of all, the goodness of it. And then the abundance of it, is something that's really hard to push yourself away from.

EL: And you went to college at the University of Georgia.

TT: I did.

EL: And as you lay out in the book, college also lends itself to terrible eating habits.

TT: Well, yeah. I mean it was the first time I was out on my own. So I was unsupervised. I certainly ate a lot when I was home but my mom and dad were watching over me so I couldn't totally indulge. But you get to college and at most places, most colleges and universities they have all- you-can-eat dining halls which I had. And then we had the little sub shop across the street which I often indulged in. I had a friend who worked for Domino's at the time and he would often come back at 1:00 in the morning with pizzas that they hadn't sold for one reason or another. We would split up those pizzas. And then that was also a time when I started to drink fairly heavily as many college students do. And so I'm eating unlimited buffets. I'm eating sub shop's right across the street. Free pizza at night and lots of beer. That's a recipe for disaster.

EL: Yeah, for sure.

TT: Trying to keep in any kind of shape. I probably was more physically active those first couple years of college than I ever was. I played basketball hours a day almost every day. Took long walks from one class to another across a very hilly campus. But I still gained like 50 pounds because I was just inhaling so much food and so much alcohol.

EL: I assume without, like me, like without even thinking about it. And it wasn't just when you're anxious or nervous about something. It was just your default mode.

TT: Well, it's both. It's a catch-22. It's a thing that you're supposed to indulge in when you're happy. When everybody's happy and celebrating, what do you do? You have food or you have beer or whatever. But it's also the thing that's soothes you when you're feeling bad. The whole going to the fridge at night, eating the pint of ice cream. It's linked with both the euphoria and the downside too.

EL: So how much did you weigh in college?

TT: I was probably, I didn't step on a scale very often at college. But when I went to college I was probably in the 250-260 range. By the time I got out of college, I probably gained another 75 or 80 pounds.

EL: Wow. So that's really like, yes, 250 is heavy, but if you came out of 330 that's when you go into morbidly obese mode, right?

TT: Exactly. Which is I didn't even really know that phrase until I was in my late 20's and I ended up having throat cancer which is why I have this weird voice. And as I was in the doctor's office one day, he turned to talk to his nurse and I could see the note he was writing. And the two words ‘morbidly obese’ jumped off the page at me. And he was just... It was just a clinical description of what I was. And that meant I was obese to the point where my weight was likely to kill me. And so even though I knew that at that moment it took me a long time to get better. But yeah, certainly for the time I was in my mid-20's and on I was morbidly obese.

EL: And when you started the book, it's New Year's Eve 2014, right? So there were many years and by the time you started the book, you weighed 460.

TT: Yeah, and I was 50-years-old at that moment.

EL: You were 50-years-old and you weighed 460?

TT: Yep.

EL: And that must have been just beyond terrifying.

TT: It was. And the thing that had happened just prior to that was my sister had died. My sister Brenda who was a light in our family. She was a good bit older than me. She was in her mid-60's. But she had struggled with her weight most of her life as well. And that year and the holidays she'd had some swelling in her legs that was weight related, developed an infection, and it was one of those MRSA-type infections that by the time really anybody knew what was going on she was really, really sick. And my wife and I were in Tennessee with my wife's family. And my brother called and said, "Brenda's really sick. You need to get down here." So we made our way down and we hadn't even gotten halfway there. And my brother sent a text that said, "She's gone."

EL: Wow.

TT: And it blew a hole in our family. And at her funeral service as I was sitting there watching everyone grieve for somebody who was gone too soon I could see my future. As I wrote in the book, I was 50-years-old at the time and guys like us don't make it to 60. I realize that if I kept going down that path I wasn't going to make it much further. I had this old black suit. It was the only suit I owned at the time, this pinstripe suit. And I remember looking down and looking at that suit and thinking, "That's the suit I'm going to be buried in."

EL: Wow.

TT: And so that was the big impetus for me to change.

EL: My late brother, who was the first investor in Serious Eats and who adopted me after my parents died, had radical and early bariatric surgery where they removed part of his small intestine. And even though it had lots of anticipated and unanticipated side effects, he does say that it gave him a bonus. He probably had it when he was 50 or 55 and he made it to 75. And I think for him it was the same thought process for you. It's like, "I'm not going to make it if I don't do something and he didn't think that he had the self-discipline to do it on his own." So he went for the major, major surgery when they didn't know very much about this stuff, right? But you decided you weren't going to do that even though bariatric surgery had come a long way by the time you started 2014.

TT: Two things there. One is I know lots of people who've had bariatric surgery. And even though as you say they've improved it vastly over the years there's still a wide range of outcomes. There are people who have it and it totally transforms them for the better. They would do it a hundred times out of a hundred. I know some other people who've had real problems with the side effects, the lifestyle changes they've had to make, all those sorts of things. And they might not do it again if given the chance. And then all kinds of outcomes in the middle. So for me if the way I'm doing things now if I'm not able to sustainably lose weight for the next 5 to 10 years or so, then that's certainly on the table for me. But I wanted to try losing weight in a way I never tried before. And I wanted to give it a sustained effort one more time to see if I could do it on my own.

EL: And you describe the diet you put yourself on very succinctly, right?

TT: Well, yeah. It's a three-step diet. It's what a lot of people disdainfully describe as calories in and calories out. So I have a Fitbit that measures my steps and exercise every day that tells me how many calories I've burned. It also has an app where I can type in everything I eat during the day and it tells me how many calories I've brought in. If I burn more than I bring in every day, I consider that a win. And with my doctor's supervision I have set out on this plan to lose weight very slowly and sustainably.

TT: The reason for that is the vast majority of crash diets, not only the ones that I've tried, but the ones I've read studies about, the vast majority of commercial diets don't work for people like me. As the way I describe it, if you have 10 pounds to lose, you could probably go pull just about any book off the diet book shelf at your local bookstore and you can make something work for you. If you have 200 pounds to lose or more, you have to find something that's not just going to work for 30 days. It's got to work for 300 days or 3,000 days. And that requires a different approach.

EL: And to make it to 3,000 days that's also the only way to do it. You talk about in the book that the body has very strong defenses against crash diets.

TT: Absolutely. What happens inside your body when you lose a lot of weight, your body is still... part of your body is still stuck in Neanderthal days. And when you start to lose weight, it thinks you're starving. And so your metabolism slows down. And it tries to basically push you back to the weight that you once were because that was what they thought was normal. What at the cellular level your body thinks is normal. There was a study a few years ago of a group of contestants who were on The Biggest Loser, the TV show. And they found many of those people lost a lot of weight on the show and then gained it back. And what they found was that even for the ones who gained it back, their bodies were still slowing down their metabolism because it still wanted to push them even further to make them basically harder and harder for them to lose weight because your body sees losing weight as a flaw. Because you're suppose to fatten up for the big winter. And so your body fights against you in many ways, especially when you're trying to lose a significant amount of weight.

EL: I've always found that true. I once went on the Atkins diet in college. Remember the Atkins diet?

TT: I do.

EL: And I ate so little fruit I actually got scurvy.

TT: That's dedication. I have to tell you.

EL: I mean it's crazy, dude.

TT: You were the last person who wasn't a pirate to get scurvy.

EL: I was the last person who wasn't a pirate that got scurvy. So what's interesting to me is you say you're a journalist so you're into deadlines and here is my deadline. "By the end of 2015, one year from now, I'm going to lose weight and get in shape. I'm not going to set a number because every time I've done that I've fallen short. My goal is to prove that I can head down the right path and stay on it. I have to show that I won't quit even when it's hard because it's going to be hard. And if I get to the end of the year and I've failed every option goes back on the table. Bootcamp, pills, surgery, everything. I have a long history of doing this the wrong way. I've thought about the few simple things that might help me do it right. But it will take more than just a meal plan and a walk every morning. I have to dig deep." Again, that really spoke to me because there have been various times in my life where it's like, "Okay. Enough with the bullshit. You're just going to have to do this the only right way to do it. You eat less." And you know when you're eating less. And my body at least, and I'm sure your body does too, it tells you when you haven't. You get on the scale. Like I had a... Can I admit this to you, Tommy? I've got to admit this to you. I had a Popeyes' feast for Superbowl.

TT: Oh, wow.

EL: I love Popeyes.

TT: Popeyes is fantastic.

EL: I mean but then I got on the scale and I've been pretty good at keeping my weight down to around 230, 228 sometimes. And I got on the scale. Two days later and I was at 235. It's like, "Yeah, see. Scale doesn't lie." The ball doesn't lie. A lot of things don't lie.

TT: That's right. And there are direct consequences to all those terrible meals I ate over the years. But a big part of, for me, and I think for most people who are significantly overweight if you just have a few pounds to lose, you could probably just figure out how to do it. But if you have a significant amount of weight to lose, the how is never enough. You have to start talking about the why.

TT: And in fact the majority of this book is about me trying to figure out why I got so big in the first place.

EL: Yeah, exactly.

TT: And then understanding myself better helped me sort of unlock the ways to turn it around.

EL: Which is what we're going to get into in your next episode of Special Sauce. So we're going to have to leave it right here for now. Thank you very much, Tommy Tomlinson. It's really been a pleasure. Serious Eaters we'll be back next week so we can find out what is going on with Tommy and what he did discover when he went on this incredible journey. And we'll see you next time, Serious Eaters.

This post may contain links to Amazon or other partners; your purchases via these links can benefit Serious Eats. Read more about our affiliate linking policy.

Source: https://www.seriouseats.com/2019/03/special-sauce-tommy-tomlinson-1-2.html

[megacreativewriter]

Human Toilet at the Club Pt. 1

Introduction:

I wrote this story myself. Inspired by SiCiAiT's and hungry guy's literature. Enjoy. Chapter 1

“Finishing high school should make me want to celebrate, but I feel like shit,” I thought to myself. My girlfriend Lauren had broken up with me. She was the head cheerleader and the most popular girl in school. I was so madly in love with her, but she thought I was a loser. She only liked me because I was one of the first kids to get a car. I would drive her and her girlfriends around, and they would pretend to be nice to me. After dropping them off at club events, I would hear them laughing about what a loser I was as I drove away. I didn’t care—just being around these gorgeous teens was enough for me. The sweet perfumed smell of their hair, their soft and clear skin, their long lashes and luscious lips all drove me nuts. I would drive home and furiously masturbate to thoughts of them taking turns sitting on my face.

When I didn’t get into college, Lauren saw that as pathetic. Her and her friends all got into prestigious colleges, and I was condemned to working the same fast food job for the rest of my life. Lauren texted me a month after graduation, telling me we needed to talk. My stomach wrenched at those words. I knew what was to come. She was dropped off by one of the football players outside my house. She came in front door and said, “I can’t be in this relationship with you anymore. I don’t love you. You’re going nowhere with your life and I cannot have you weighing me down. I need a real man, and frankly, you don’t fit the bill.”

“But Lauren,” I pleaded, “please don’t leave me! You’re all I have, without you I’m nothing.” Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I could feel my face burning from the humiliation. Lauren scoffed, “Then it looks like you’re nothing. Goodluck, loser.” She left, and got back into the football player’s car. I saw them laughing together as they drove away. I was collapsed in my house, a hole in my chest.

I went to my room and packed a bowl, hoping the high would calm me down. I lay in my bed, letting my high take over. “Maybe tomorrow won’t be so bad,” I half-heartedly thought myself. My sister walked past my room and stuck her head in. “I heard Lauren dumped you. Serves you right, pothead.” Encouraging words from my bitch of a sister.

I spent the next day moping around the house. I constantly checked my phone to see if Lauren messaged me, but she never did. My heart nearly stopped when I heard my phone go off. I received a text from Gretchen, who was Lauren’s cheerleading friend. Gretchen despised me. She would take every opportunity to talk down to me. Her message read, “Meet me at 1903 Main Street, 7pm. Don’t be late.” “Odd,” I wondered what she could want with me. Maybe Lauren had something to do with this. Maybe, if I was the luckiest guy in the world, this is some elaborate way to take me back. I should have known better.

The next day was spent in agonizing anticipation. What did Gretchen want? The question rang in my head like a broken record. Finally it was time to go. As I drove towards the meeting spot, my heart raced. Anxiety took over, each breath felt more constricted the closer I got. I parked and went in. I hadn’t realized the address was the club where I regularly dropped the girls off. I went in, mind racing. My palms were practically swimming in sweat. The club was empty, except for Gretchen, another cheerleader named Katrina, and a woman that I recognized to be the bartender. They were all sitting on one side of a table, with an empty chair across from them. No sign of Lauren, but I didn’t give up hope.

“Sit,” Gretchen commanded dominantly. She pointed to the empty chair. I was struck off-guard by her tone. Normally she was bitchy, but this tone was authoritative. I sat, waiting to find out what the hell this was all about.

“Hello Loser, I was happy to hear that Lauren finally tossed you in the trash where you belong. She told us all about it, how you cried, and said you were nothing without her. I knew you were pathetic, but I had no idea how weak you really were.” I struggled to hold tears back, but with no such luck. Tears started streaming down my face, and the ladies started laughing, painting me red. “Look! He’s crying!” blurted Katrina. She was trying to be serious but couldn’t stopping laughing at my humiliation. Katrina calmed down and said bluntly, “Look Loser, we need a new… shall we say, employee, for the club. We know you didn’t get into college, and we know you don’t make shit working at the pizza place. We generous ladies are willing to give you a chance here. Your life can mean something.”

I was confused. All this torment and they want to offer me a job? This makes no sense. I worked up the courage to speak. “Why me?” I managed to croak out. The silent bartender found her voice and snapped at me, “look asshole, take the fucking job and maybe your little girlfriend will take you back.” That’s all I needed to hear. Reluctantly, I said, “Fine. When do I start?” The girls smiled. I knew something wasn’t right about this situation, but I was too desperate for Lauren to question it.

Chapter 2

The bartender softened her disposition. “Tonight is your first shift. You’re going to assist our female customers with their… feminine needs.” Her tone was playful. I thought to myself, “surely she isn’t serious, am I going to get these women off somehow?” I felt my dick start to tingle. My little fantasy was interrupted when the bartender told me to follow her. As she led me towards the back of the club, Katrina said, “good luck,” and both cheerleaders started laughing.

We walked passed the washrooms, and next to the women’s room was an inconspicuous locked door. The bartender unlocked the door and led me in to the dark, warm room. She shut the door behind me, and I couldn’t see a thing. Suddenly, she got close to me and whispered erotically in my ear, “strip for me baby.” She traced a hand down my chest towards my dick, teasing me slowly, until she brushed my dick with her hand. I was instantly erect, and her touch radiated throughout my body. She stepped back and I started taking off my clothes in the dark. Once I was naked, the bartender told me to lie down on the bench. She guided my body to a padded bench that seemed to be sticking out of the wall. Horny out of my mind, I didn’t think twice about this unusually placed furniture, or the situation I was in.

My ignorance was quickly punished, as I felt my wrists become cuffed by the bartender. My feet were then forcibly put into stirrups above me, locking me in a spread eagle position. In a panic, I realized there must be more people in this room, because there is no way the bartender confined me so quickly. I felt my head locked in place by metal clamps, and with that, I was completely immobilized. The bartender said, “we got him girls,” in an accomplished voice, and dread washed over me. The lights flickered on, burning my eyes.

When I recovered, I was shocked at my situation. The bartender and two girls I have seen around school were smiling over me. “Hey loser, welcome to your new job.” The bartender said. I was shook, my anxiety had taken over leaving me paralyzed. Completely incapable of reacting to my predicament, I lay silently as the bartender continued. “This is a special club—a club where powerful women can come to exercise their dominance. One way they do that is by using human toilets.” I wasn’t sure I heard that right, things were so strange that I had difficulties understanding her words.

“You have unwittingly signed up to be one of these human toilets, and so it’ll be your duty to eat or drink whatever our customers produce for you. Whether that is shit, piss, vomit, or whatever other nasty things the human body is capable of, you will consume it without so much as a peep.” The other ladies in the room smiled as the bartender explained my new job. I flinched when I felt something slick touch my asshole. One of the girls spoke up in an unfittingly sweet voice, “oh honey, I see you felt our little friend. This is an automatic fucking machine. It is a big dildo attached to a motor. If a customer is dissatisfied with your performance, she can press a button in the stall. Every time that button is pressed, the dildo slides forward an inch. It’s a big dildo, so if I were you, I’d keep customer satisfaction a priority.”

The bartender asked if I had any questions before I began my shift. All I managed to squeak out was, “why me?” She smiled, and bent over so her face was a few inches from mine. “Why you? Because you are a sniveling little piece of shit that deserves nothing more than to be a toilet for the goddesses that walk into my bar. The fact that you’ll get to gaze upon the beautiful women that enter your stall is payment enough for your services. You are a pathetic person, and so we will dehumanize you into a toilet, where you will serve us until I decide to let you out, which may be never if you ask me another god damn question. Do you understand?”

Her rant haunted me to my soul. I shut my mouth, terrified of the three beautiful women around me. The bench was pushed back, and my head entered a new room. In this room, my reality set in. I looked up at the ceiling of a bathroom stall. My head was inside a toilet. I wanted to scream, but I felt the dildo pressed firmly against my asshole. My fear of the bartender, and the thought of getting impaled, kept me quiet. I whispered to myself repeatedly, “this is just a prank.” I did not realize how wrong I was.

Chapter 3

The bartender entered my stall. “Listen loser, I’m going to give you your first taste of being a toilet. If you fuck this up, there will be hell to pay. Got it? Good. Now, when you are in the presence of a customer, keep your mouth open at all times. Swallow everything that goes in your mouth, and do it quickly. You wouldn’t be the first toilet to drown in this stall, so keep up if you want to live. When the customer is finished, they will tell you. You must clean them with your tongue before they leave.” She undid her jeans and pulled down her pants and panties. I was awestruck by her lewdness. Her pussy was slightly hairy with puffy, pink lips. It was divine. Suddenly, the bartender reached into the toilet and pinched my ear with her nails. I felt blood dribble down my earlobe. I started to tear up. “What did I tell you? Open your fucking mouth, idiot.”

Not wanting to anger my new boss any further, I opened my mouth. She leaned her head over me and stared for a few seconds. Then, she opened her mouth and slowly dripped a big wad of spit into my mouth. Despite my situation, my erection was throbbing. I watched her glob descend, felt the sliminess as it hit my tongue and creeped to the back of my throat. “Good toilet,” she cooed. I felt a small pang of pride for pleasing her. My submissive fantasies started to take over. I was enjoying this torment, and that scared me.

“You’re lucky, I only have to pee.” With that, she turned around and slowly sat on my face. I watched her perfectly round ass engulf my head. Her pussy sealed itself on my lips. I could smell her deep scent, taste it. Light body odor mixed with perfumed soap. Her pubes brushed against my face, tickling around my mouth and nose. Her ass cheeks were soft and warm on my face. I gently let my tongue glide across her inner folds. She let out a slight, “Mhh” when I did this, encouraging me. I could feel her wetness, her oozing lubricant stuck to my tongue as I lightly explored her. She tasted tangy, and slightly salty. I could tell she had been wearing her jeans in the hot club for a while, building up sweat. I looked up at the bottom of her breasts, and wondered what she looked like topless.

Suddenly, I felt her body tense. A stream of strong urine shot directly out of her and into my mouth. It was unexpectedly hot in temperature, and extremely metallic and salty tasting. The taste shocked me, and I struggled to swallow fast enough. Around the end of her stream, I started to choke on her piss, and I could feel the liquid coming out my nose. The sound of my choking caused her to turn around. She spoke with fake disappointment, “Hey, toilets do not make sound. I’m afraid I was dissatisfied with your service.” She faced the wall next to her, and I heard an electronic beeping sound. On the other side of the wall where my body laid bonded, I heard an electric engine start to wind. I felt the dildo shoot forward an inch, pressing hard against my anus. The pressure wasn’t enough to penetrate, but one more press of that button and surely the head would slide into me. I had to be more careful.

The bartender ordered me to clean her. I stuck out my tongue and licked her urethra. The taste was reminiscent of her piss, mixed with the tang of her pussy. She stood up and started pulling up her pants. My face was wet with her pussy juices, and it felt cold without her sitting on me. She leaned over the toilet, spat one more time into my mouth before saying, “Good luck, toilet.” What the fuck did I get myself into? When do I get to see Lauren?

More to come…

[dippedanddripped]

Our civilization encourages a dude to be a bigger man, but doesn't deign to dress him very well.

The situation in apparel for what the industry calls "big and tall" men stands in stark contrast to women's plus. A surge in feminist empowerment (spurred most recently by the #metoo movement) and the democratic nature of social media have given voice to stylish influencerswho display confident images of themselves, call out brands refusing to cater to them and hail those that successfully do.

For plus-size female consumers, a dearth of fashion options in a neglected niche has morphed into a plethora of new and legacy retailers not only getting into the segment, but also offering an inclusive size range available to all, or at least many more, women. It's become easier for those who don't fit into what is known as "straight" sizes to not only find apparel, but also see themselves in marketing and on the runway.

It's been a long road, and men, by and large, are still not on it.

"Big men are ignored," says Kat Eves, a Los Angeles-based stylist at Style Ethic, who calls herself "an ethical and inclusive wardrobe stylist, fashion designer, writer, and blogger." A shopping trip for a friend helped spark her career, and she hasn't seen much progress in the industry segment since, she told Retail Dive in an interview. "I had a big and tall friend in college who wanted to impress a girl and had one t-shirt and one pair of pants to his name. I love fashion for myself and I'm also plus size and have always been, and I think that was part of it for him, I think he trusted me — so I took him shopping. But there really weren't many options."

"They blame the customer. The excuse I’ve seen brands make over the decades is that they tried to do plus size and the sales just weren’t there — but I know that the marketing wasn’t there either."

Kat Eves

Stylist, Style Ethic

This part of the retail landscape only has a handful of well-known players. J.C. Penney recently ended its Big & Tall subscription box. There's DXL, formerly known as Destination XL. The Winston Box and Maximus Box (both offer sizes up to 6XL) have been in business for a couple of years, Bonobos​ offers extended sizes, and Stitch Fix recently expanded sizes for men — but they're strictly e-commerce. Brands like Gap, Old Navy, Ralph Lauren, Asos and Lacoste have options, but mostly, if not only, online. Others, including higher-end brands, sell through specialists like DXL and not mainstream retailers like department stores.

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Furthermore, brands that do sell a greater range of sizes for men don't market that much, according to Tara Drury, retail analyst at fashion analytics firm Edited. "Despite a larger selection of retailers investing in plus-size clothing, promotion of this is minimal," she told Retail Dive in an email.

Eves calls that a missed opportunity. "They blame the customer," she said. "The excuse I've seen brands make over the decades is that they tried to do plus size and the sales just weren't there — but I know that the marketing wasn't there either. Bonobos stepped up and actually invested ad money — that's a huge game changer from where we were. Most people don't know that Lucky jeans makes clothes for big and tall sizes. It's almost like they don't want it to work — they're even quiet about where they carry their big and tall products."

Few shoppers have a stylist like Eves to help them find the goods, and, in all, the number of possibilities pales compared to those for women, according to experts. Still, Ray Hartjen, marketing director of store analytics firm RetailNext, calls it an interesting market with "a huge upside potential in North America and Europe for retailers willing to 'get it right.'"

"[T]here's not a lot of options out there, and the opportunity exists to carve out a real competitive advantage. It's tempting to compare men's plus apparel to that of women's, and companies that clearly do it right, like ModCloth. I think it's a bit more complicated than that though," Hartjen said in an email to Retail Dive.

The size of the market

What complicates the men's market in part is the disparity in apparel sales more generally between men and women: Menswear, though still a smaller segment, has grown more than women's in recent years, Hartjen notes.

"That's driven largely by streetwear. At its roots, streetwear might lend itself to plus sizes, but the lines typically don't include professional looks and fashions for a night out on the town," he said.

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Dustin Hutton-Alcorn — who works at a tech company in Vancouver, Canada, wears double XL and has a subscription to GQ — has noticed that. He was first mortified to be shut out of teen trends as a kid and has struggled to fill his closet since, though he does see some improvement of late. "They tend to be more of an urban or streetwear style rather than business casual or formal, so it doesn't really work for office wear," he told Retail Dive in an interview. "So it's a tricky space to navigate. I'm 6 feet and 350 pounds. I'm not built like a football player who's modeling for Reebok or a brand of that nature. The same way women are fighting for larger models, how often do you see GQ with a larger model?"

People who don't fit into "straight" sizes are also missing out on the current activism around more sustainably produced apparel, according to Eves. "My personal focus is ethical fashion — which is also having a huge growing movement — and I would say plus-size women have very few options in the ethical world and men have virtually none. It's a highly exclusive, white, very Gwyneth Paltrow, very blonde movement that is ignoring that a majority of the population is plus size."

Hartjen says that some brands, especially in luxury, are starting to produce wider size ranges geared to younger men, but it remains difficult to assess the value of the market. "While men's apparel is growing at a faster rate than women's, it's important to note that men's apparel is only about two-thirds of women's apparel in total size," he said. "So, where does a brand invest? A segment of the faster growing, but smaller, men's market? Or, the slower growing, bigger market?"

Additionally, there isn't much number-crunching for the big and tall market. Many of the same research firms that track the market in women's plus and inclusive sizing didn't have similar numbers to share regarding men's. One study, from IBIS World, found that the plus-size men's clothing industry grew by 0.2% over five years to $1 billion in revenue in 2018, while the number of businesses has risen 1.6%.

The huge diversity

Some companies, especially newer online upstarts, have discovered demand on their own. When Stitch Fix launched a big-and-tall offer for size XL, for example, it garnered a waitlist of 25,000 men, according to an email from the company to Retail Dive.

"Some men are bigger than others. Some men are taller than others. We all have different bodies and that should definitely be taken into consideration when certain brands walk into the big & tall market."

Kavah King

Big-and-tall model, fashion blogger at The Gentlemen's Curb

The service's data also revealed a need for a diversity of fits, including for men who find sleeve and shirt lengths to be too long. Kavah King, a big-and-tall model and fashion blogger at The Gentlemen's Curb, told Retail Dive in an email that's something more brands need to do.

"Some brands [are] extremely quick to offer 'extended sizes,' but haven't done enough research and appeal to only one body type," he said. "Some men are bigger than others. Some men are taller than others. We all have different bodies and that should definitely be taken into consideration when certain brands walk into the big & tall market."

While many styles available now simply accommodate girth, men like Hutton-Alcorn would like other fits to choose from, like slim-cut jeans. "I continue to find clothes definitely geared toward older gentleman, not so much to those who have fashion aspirations. Being a young person, I would love to be able to purchase a pair of branded jeans, from Lucky brand, maybe, just a nice pair of dark denim," he said (unwittingly possibly proving Eves' point about that brand's marketing efforts). "In flipping through these magazines or even just watching TV and seeing ads, these brands carry options for bigger men but don't carry them in store. Or they carry them for women but not for men."

Entering the market, though, does invite complications. The design and manufacture of extended sizes require extra attention and work with suppliers. Production takes pattern grading and knowledge about neck size, sleeve size, shoulder span, waist and all-around fit. "I've worked on the inside of a brand that's inclusive and know how difficult it is to accommodate every body type," Eves said. "If a brand that has traditionally done straight sizing, when they expand into plus sizes, and they should, they really are starting from scratch if they're doing it right."

The big problem in stores

Shopping for apparel can be especially daunting when a guy runs into customer service at the store level that, like the clothes, wasn't designed for him.

"I think there's a sense in the retail space that it's a world-class experience for anyone who is coming in, say at a Nordstrom or a Calvin Klein, but it can be difficult when you walk in and you get ignored because the people working there know you're not going to be purchasing," Hutton-Alcorn said. "Even if they don't have the items for the plus-size customers — maybe it isn't today, but it's a matter of making sure that you're treating any customer as though we are customer number one."

His experience at a Tom Ford location in Las Vegas is seared in his mind. "I was given a phenomenal experience by their team members," he said. "So I don't necessarily purchase Tom Ford clothing, but I'm purchasing Tom Fordoptical and Tom Ford fragrances, and the way I've been treated, I am a promoter of their brand. If and when he were to announce a line of plus-size apparel, I would be among the first to purchase it."

DXL, as did women's specialty retailers like Lane Bryant years ago, is filling a void, and the retailer appreciates its unique position. "At DXL, we are focused solely on a guest who often can't find anything in his size in other stores. In contrast, we offer one-stop-shopping for this underserved guest," DXL COO and Executive Vice President Brian Reaves told Retail Dive in an email. "Big and tall is all we do, but uniquely different than other stores, our fit is spec-ed by size and garment and for each size. We don't just scale up product from a regular fit like most other retailers. [O]ur associates uniquely understand the big and tall shopper."

As Reaves notes, the retailer carries labels like Polo Ralph Lauren, Lacoste, and Levi's each season, as well as developing designs for DXL's own labels, like Harbor Bay, Oak Hill and True Nation.

And yet, men also want to be able to shop at other retailers — a desire that has helped propel the swift acceleration in recent years of more inclusive sizing for women at retailers like Nordstrom, J. Crew, Target and others that previously didn't offer plus at all, or relegated it to a corner of their stores.

"I would love for those retailers and brands that cater to big & tall men to receive the accolades and a return of investment," King said. "But, I would love for the generation after to not feel weird that they only have to shop at certain places. I know that feeling all too well. As a child when a brand doesn't cater to you, it definitely affects your confidence when all of your peers shop at that store."

Will bigger get better?

When it comes to advancements in apparel sizing, women have paved the way, and men's brands seem destined to follow suit.

In fact, the recent rapid change in women's inclusive sizing is likely accelerating efforts because fashion brands these days can hardly afford to ignore any slice of the market, according to Hartjen. "Women are leading the charge, and one thing that success breeds is imitation, so the expectation is that the men's market will be a fast-follower," he said.

"DXL will continue to grow its footprint. Parallel to that are the product brands themselves. DTC brands will continue to push the market, primarily online, and that's going to lead to deals similar to Walmart's acquisition of ModCloth," he said. "Merchants like Target will be looking to source more and more brands to build out their offerings, and department stores will begin to expand their product line offerings. And, I think, all of that is going to happen fairly quickly."

Eves and King do testify to progress in recent years. "A few years ago the selections were hooded sweatshirts, Oxford shirts, khakis, and polo shirts," King said. "So there are a lot of changes and more opportunities for brands so that there is some diversity in the field. There are different designs and patterns. A few retailers even offer some patterns that previously were exclusive only to custom pieces. I think that it's a beautiful time! I want to commend and show respect to the women that have been on the front lines, pushing size inclusion until it was forced to be recognized."

[laurenxconrad]

Lauren releases a maternity line!

Lauren Conrad is taking the dive into pregnancy fashion design!

The reality television alum and lifestyle guru’s upcoming newest endeavor with Kohl’s is called, fittingly, LC Lauren Conrad Maternity.

Featuring everything from dresses to jeggings, the brand new line debuts Wednesday, June 7, online and in Kohl’s stores, joining her recently dropped LC Lauren Conrad Beach Collection.

Conrad, 31 — who’s expecting a baby boy with husband William Tell — spoke to PEOPLE about her new collection.

PEOPLE: Can you tell us a bit about what we can expect from your maternity line?

Lauren Conrad: Of course. I was so excited to do this category, but again, I wanted to wait until I felt confident designing, like I had experienced maternity as a category myself. It was really nice to go in to this while I was trying to figure out my own maternity style, so I really wanted to make sure that the aesthetic of this line was very cohesive with the existing LC Lauren Conrad collection.

One of the things I really struggled with when I was shopping was that I wanted to maintain my everyday style, but I had trouble finding the types of pieces available in maternity collections. So I wanted to cater towards our existing customer who just happens to have a new shape, but still wants to dress in line with her style that she has had for years.

PEOPLE: Using what you learned throughout your own pregnancy, what did you figure out you wanted to include and didn’t want to include?

Lauren: By the time it came down to it and we were putting it together and merchandising it all, I had some pretty strong opinions about silhouettes. We definitely wanted to include a lot of dresses, mostly because at the time this was coming out, I basically lived in dresses – they were the most comfortable for me and were the easiest fit-wise.

We did do two pairs of colored jeggings, which are kind of fun to pair with some off-the-shoulder flirty tops we did. I definitely wanted things that were cinched or more body-con because I found that I felt best in pieces that gave me a shape as opposed to more tent-like pieces.

PEOPLE: How hands on were you in the process, and how long did it take? I know you had a hand in selecting the pieces.

Lauren: We started right after I announced, so the beginning of this year, and then we spent the following several months developing the line. It was actually a pretty short timeline for us because we had to do everything from inspiration and vibes to developing it.

Fortunately, because of our approach keeping it in line with the existing collection, we were able to work off the trends we’re going after in that line, so that helped us out a lot. It’s been a process. I’m really impressed with my team, especially on the production side, for being able to pull it off on such a short timeline.

PEOPLE: Is there anything new you learned from creating this maternity line that you hadn’t in previous collections?

Lauren: I think maternity was pretty seamless. It really was just about tweaking the fit. There’s a little bit you want to consider when it comes to fabrication, but personally, I just wanted to shop like I’ve always shopped and have things fit me.

It really was just focusing on that fit. Kohl’s has a lot of experience in maternity, so they were so helpful there. It really wasn’t as challenging as I expected it to be. It was pretty simple.

PEOPLE: What have been some of your maternity must-haves?

Lauren: I think for me, it’s dresses and flowy tops. Those are my go-tos. I personally like softer, stretchier fabrics for every day, and some kind of sweeter sundresses. With the dresses, we did two of them — one of them is off the shoulder and a jersey-type dress, which I really like.

Then we did a couple that were sweeter and they did that cold shoulder because I felt like you still want to dress sweetly and show off a little bit. Shoulders are a pretty easy part of your body to show off when you’re trying to dress around some other things, so I felt like that was a relevant trend, and it was a good one to go after in this line. It was one that I was looking to wear.

PEOPLE: Is there anything you’re looking forward to wearing post-pregnancy?

Lauren: I guess I miss my waist. That’s the only thing. I’m fine with everything else. I’m excited to wear high-waisted shorts and jeans again and more separates. I’ve been living in dresses. I’ve already started doing a little bit of shopping for my post-dressing. But then I also didn’t even consider, which was so silly, but the wardrobe when you’re nursing is a little different too so it’s just an excuse really to shop just for button-downs and V-necks.

PEOPLE: What did you hope to achieve with the line?

Lauren: To fill a void, really. I feel like in the past, the most organic collections that I released are ones that I felt like I needed. Like if I was shopping and couldn’t find this, I have a feeling other people are having that same issue. So I just wanted to create a really beautiful line that pregnant women could feel really confident in and feel really good about themselves.

PEOPLE: Would you ever consider designing baby clothes next?

Lauren: I would! We haven’t really talked about it yet but yeah, everything is cuter tiny, so I think that I’ve done my fair share of shopping for baby clothes, which has been really fun. So I think that would be a really exciting category to get into.

PEOPLE: Your baby shower looked beautiful. How did everything go?

Lauren: Oh, it was great. It was so nice of them. [My] friends and my mom and mother-in-law got together. It was very sweet of them, and it was a beautiful day.

PEOPLE: How are you getting ready for the baby? Shopping, setting up the nursery?

Lauren: I’m just about there. I think we’re ready, but I feel pretty good about where we’re at.

PEOPLE: What are you most excited about for the baby to be here?

Lauren: I think the most exciting thing is just to meet your tiny person that you’ve been growing for so long. Up until now, they’re kind of a mystery to you, so I think we’re just really excited to meet our new family member.

LC Lauren Conrad Maternity debuts Wednesday, June 7, online and in Kohl’s stores nationwide.

[creepy--pasta]

The Candy Man

It was the summer of 1987. The heat of that June seemed to come out of nowhere. One minute we were shuttered inside, looking out at the granite-grey shoreline, and then next the sun was pouring in, starching the grass, unfastening flowers and pulling everyone down to the pier. The fairground came, manned by the same troupe of gypsies who were as ingrained as the seasons themselves--big strong men with funny accents and work-rough skin. They were the ones we suspected first. The month passed in sweltering heat; some flocked to the beach, toes enmeshed in the powdery sand; some went in gaggles to the pier, swelling among the attractions, gorging themselves on candyfloss; some stayed in the cool darkness of the arcades and others just sat stewing on their stoops, like sweating water in an icy jug. That summer I celebrated my fourteenth birthday with my good friend Maggie. Maggie was the quiet sort, tall for her age and bony. She lived with her father who she tried desperately to please, and appeared to be stuck in the 1930s; Maggie always wore a navy cotton day dress, a simple, modest frock with a drop waist and sensible shoes to match. Some of the other kids used to tease her for it. On July 13th the news came through. Twelve year old Charlotte and eleven year old Lauren were missing, last seen walking home from the fair. The story sent shockwaves through our small town; we spent five days hacking through foliage and searching through woods, terrified that we might happen upon some horrific discovery. One man found a girl's shoe by a large oak, but the shoe looked more fitted to a five year old than Charlotte or Lauren. I had a deep, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that something awful had happened, which wasn't helped by the putrid heat and the hot fug of wild mint which packed my nose as I raked through bushes. Maggie was quick to blame the gypsies, but I knew that was just her dad putting words into her mouth. The gypsies denied any involvement and soon packed up their gear, ready to be on the road again. The pier looked empty without the fairground there. That was the first thing I thought as I walked along the coast that morning. I was taking my dog Alfie out for a run along the beach. It was an uncharacteristically cold day, with the clouds knitting together above my head, bone-grey and dismal. I narrowed my eyes against the spray of salt water and Alfie ran on ahead. He seemed to have found something. He was sniffing in the slushy sand and barking as if alerting me to come over. After a few seconds he retreated, and I could smell the death already. My mouth went bone dry. A sweat sprang to my armpits as I raced over to Alfie, distinguishing two lifeless shapes sprawled out by the tide. I waved a flurry of seagulls away and felt bile rise in my throat. It was them. The two girls. They lay face-up, all grit and goose flesh, sloppily re-buttoned into their clothes like distended marionettes. Weak patches of blood bloomed through their shirts, their eyes still open in terror. The news hit us like a ton of bricks. We were horrified, terrified, disgusted and confused all at once; the two girls had been raped and stabbed to death, but that was not the baffling part. The baffling part was that Charlotte's kidney had been removed and so had Lauren's spleen. The knife wounds had been quick, erratic, the work of a mad-man, but the incisions made to retrieve the organs were neat, clean... professional almost. A fortnight passed and I was still having nightmares about finding them on the beach, of their rotting flesh, their dead eyes. The investigation eventually went cold. Nothing else was heard, no threats, no missing people, so parents gave their daughter's stern warnings to be home by dark, and everyone tried to move on. After all, it wasn't like it would happen again. It was around this time that Maggie's grandfather came to visit from Yorkshire. He was a small, stocky man with a stooped posture and a tiny bald head. He looked like a mole, with thick-lensed glasses and a huge copper-brown coat that swamped him. I greeted him politely but he never spoke back. Maggie told me that he had fought in the First World War and had been injured badly, which would explain his muteness and the large bumpy scar that ran down the centre of his cranium. She also told me that he'd ran a sweet shop back in the 40s and could still make delicious toffee. Maggie's grandfather was the tamest creature I'd ever met, but he aroused suspicion from his neighbours which came out in full storm when a third child went missing. It was a little boy this time, nine year old Owaine who'd been playing at the arcade late one warm purple night. I didn't blame poor Owaine for being out at such an hour; despite the atrocities that had occurred there, our town was still the same blasé place, a place where kids wandered from garden to garden and front doors were left gaping open. After the disappearance of little Owaine the town fell apart. It was every man for himself. My parents even stopped me from visiting Maggie, much to my anger, saying that no-one could be trusted. Feds trawled the beach every day, hoping that the serial offender would drop Owaine off at the same spot he did the two girls. They were right. Owaine's body appeared the next day with no wind or where about it. No-one saw anything, he just turned up in the sand, the nudging tide performing a sad imitation of life against his little body. This time the killer took a lung, one single lung, stitched him back up like a surgeon and pummelled the rest of his body with stabs. The gruesome discovery filled me with rage; how could someone do this to a child? I wasn't more than a child myself but at the time I felt a surge of protection for the dead kids. Maggie had always been like a little sister to me, meek and lonely and constantly needing back up, and this was no different in my eyes. I decided I'd find this bastard, even if it meant putting myself in harms way. But it wasn't until Maggie went missing that I put my plan into action. Maggie's disappearance sparked less of a fury among the press and the public, much to my anger. I knew straight away it was because she was odd, quiet, and not particularly attractive; she wasn't pretty like Charlotte and Lauren, nor was she as young and cute as Owaine. This coltish fourteen year old was hardly the kind of face they wanted splashed across their newspapers. But I'd find her. I'd find her and I'd bring her home and catch this mad bastard. Besides, I would make the perfect bait. I only slipped out when I was sure my parents were asleep. I had packed beforehand; torch, key, kitchen knife and the hunting rifle Dad kept mounted behind one of our framed paintings for emergencies. I wriggled out of my window (we lived in a cottage so it wasn't too high,) and landed in our tomato patch with such a thud that I was afraid I would wake someone up. Fortunately they stayed asleep. I hot-footed it onto the high street, looking out for any telltale signs of strangeness. The streets were empty, eerie, and I felt a chill bolt through me as I stood there alone. I had a fleeting moment of regret before my thoughts of Maggie brought me back down to earth; I had to do this. I could hear the knife and rifle sloshing around in my backpack. The rifle was loaded for convenience and I remember being terrified that it might go off accidentally. So much so that I took it out and aimed it as I entered the darkness of the woods. My heart began to race as I stepped over the ditch and found myself under a thick canopy of leaves. I aimed the rifle with two hands and held the torch in my mouth, trying to contain the shakes as I did a quick 360 of my surroundings. Nothing. After a lot of scared stop-starting I found myself by the thick oak tree where a man had found a child's shoe just a few weeks before. The shoe still sat there, a tiny blue shoe with a Velcro strap, grubby and waterlogged. I picked it up for inspection, holding it before the torchlight. SNAP I dropped the shoe and whipped around to where I had heard the sound. My heart dropped into my stomach. The torchlight hit a darkened figure-- Maggie's grandfather. I stood there in shock, heart racing, finger trembling over the trigger, before slowly coming to my senses. "Oh," I said, voice still shaky with nerves. "What are you doing here?" "I could ask you the same thing," it was the first time I'd heard him speak. His voice was rattly and old, but gentle in a soft perverted manner. He seemed totally calm. "I'm looking for Maggie," I said, lowering the weapon. He nodded, and I saw his hand duck into his pocket. I only saw it for a split second but his hand looked odd somehow, like some of it was missing. "Old army injury?" I asked, which in retrospect was pretty rude of me, but I was beginning to get unnerved and his silence wasn't helping. He said nothing and instead unearthed a brown, square cube wrapped in cellophane. "Candy?" I was taken aback. My mouth struggled to summon enough saliva to speak. This was getting weird. "Um, no thank you." "It's really good," he said, and took a step forwards. I took a step back. I needed to get out of here. Now. "No. no thank you." "Really. Ask Maggie." Then I saw his mouth. A thin, white puckered hole in the centre of his face. I turned to run, but a pair of strong arms grabbed me and hoisted me into the air. I screamed and bucked, trying desperately to escape whoever was holding me. In my panic my hair fell over my face, obscuring my view of the night. Sickness swilled in my stomach. All of a sudden I felt a cold, bumpy hand forcing something into my mouth. It was the toffee from earlier. I groaned in protest, arching away from his touch but he shoved the toffee in anyway, along with my caught up hair and his freezing, rotten fingers. I woke up drenched in sweat. At first it was groggy-- my hair was covering my face, I was hunched over--until the jarring realisation hit me like a shot. I sprang up and was tugged down immediately; I was strapped to a chair by my ankles and wrists, thick leather cutting into my flesh. I bucked and screamed like a mad woman, but to no avail. My eyes were still adjusting to the light, but on second glance I realised that I was in a crude, grimy cinderblock room, lit only by a naked bulb that hung from the ceiling. A large white surgical table lay a few feet away, accompanied by a sterile tray of glistening instruments. Merely the sight of them made my stomach lurch. Two hunched figures sat in the darkness, and a third... a third with sensible shoes, a navy cotton skirt, a drop waist-- "Maggie?!" She looked at me, trembling, her eyes full of tears. A pair of jagged scissors rattled in her hands. "Please," she whispered. "I... I didn't want to." It was all too much. I puked down my front. One of the darkened figures stood as I was coughing away the rest of my bile. It was Maggie's father, huge, tall, terrifying. He put a hand on Maggie's shoulder. "Maggie always said you had a good heart," he grinned. "Let's test the theory." "I TRUSTED YOU!" I screamed, overtaken with rage. Maggie quivered away from me, snivelling pathetically. I spat a chunk of vomit onto her front. She hardly noticed it, just kept on sobbing. Her father continued smoothly: "Please try to understand. We aren't evil, we just need your help to keep an old soldier standing." "WHERE IS HE?!" I screamed. "WAS IT HIM?! WAS IT HIM ALL ALONG?!" Then, with swiftness, the third figure rose from the darkness, sending a hail of flies up with him. The first thing I noticed was the stench, a stench so strong that I almost puked again. Instead I stared, glaring into that darkness. When Maggie's grandfather stepped into the light my jaw went slack and every bone in my body turned to mush. It's a sight I will never forget: He was stripped naked, with no coat or glasses. And his body--if it could even be called that--looked like a Frankenstein mesh of other bodies. His torso was a patchwork of foreign flesh held together by sutures, flesh of different shades, textures, and stages of decay. Some flesh had the blood flowing through it, while some was putrefying so badly that I could see right through it. He had no nipples, no bellybutton, and no genitalia, just a flat expanse of hexagon-stitched skin. His hands looked like chicken's feet, three-tonged with no fingers. His feet were the same, like they were wrapped in a dozen bandages. But his face was the worst. Without his glasses I could see the mimicry of his eyes--one blue and one brown-- which lay squashed behind a cage of taut white skin, stretched over the two puncture marks of a nasal cavity and the anus-like mouth which tugged itself into a horrific imitation of a smile. He pointed to his chest. "I have Owaine to thank for this--" down to his stomach "--and Charlotte and Lauren to thank for these." His chicken-hands drifted to his chest. "And little Cindy... such a kind heart. It lasted me eighteen years, would you believe? That little shoe you found, a memento I dropped all that time ago. It's amazing how long things last." He began advancing towards me. I writhed and screamed, pulling desperately against my restraints. Maggie's father stopped him. "Let Maggie do her job first," he said, and gave a nod towards his daughter. "Get her clothes off." I was having none of this. I continued my insane writhing, spitting curses as meek little Maggie edged closer with her scissors. "BITCH! BITCH!" I screamed, as she took a shaking pinch of my shirt. I snapped my teeth at her hand but was powerless to stop her as she slowly began to snip the material away. Soon my shirt was left gaping open, exposing my front to the two men in the room. Maggie then tried to hack at my bra, but the thick underwire stopped her from cutting through. This is the only time in my life I have been thankful for the underwire of my bra. "Maggie?" Her father rose with indigence when she turned back, hopeless. "I--I can't cut it," she whispered. Her father started stomping towards us until the Monster stopped him. "Stop. Let the girl do it." "But she's--" "She has to learn some time." He nodded towards Maggie. "Untie her and cut it from the back." Maggie gave a quick nod and began fumbling with the straps on my wrists. My heart raced. I wouldn't have long. She unbuckled the first wrist and my fist went flying into her bony chin with such a force that it sent her flying backwards. The room sat in shock for a few crucial seconds as I feverishly untied my other wrist and my two ankles, blood coursing through me. Maggie's father charged as I lunged out of reach and snatched up the rifle he'd dumped by the wall. With a huge BANG I unleashed my first bullet into his fleshy head. He jerked back with a burst of blood and hit the naked bulb, which swung crazily as Maggie screamed. Then, without thought, without a plan, I shouldered every last atom of strength I had against the door and bolted out into the freezing darkness. The air rushed in and stung my skin. All I could do was run and run and run, screaming all the way, until I reached the coastline and collapsed, weeping, into the arms of an early morning jogger. The next morning the police found the barn-house I had been taken to. They unearthed a chair with straps, a surgical table and a tray of instruments, and Maggie, still holding her dead father in her shaking arms. She sat in a pool of blood, her traumatised eyes fixed on the ground until one of the officers pulled her away. I stayed in that town for two more years before my parents decided to move. And all throughout that time I wondered if I'd made the Candyman up, that he was a fabrication, a horrible nightmare I created to deal with my shock. And all throughout that time I looked down onto the beach, thinking of how it could have been my body there, my lifeless body with its missing heart.