#I've got a few aspirations actually!

[corset]

I frankly am just so excited to go to a doctor. I'm tired of feeling like I'm trying to live my life and I'm being dragged around on the ground by my ailing health like a corpse instead

[defness]

→ drawing the same pose over and over again and feels cringe

→ realizes that these drawings are simply pre-ref drawings to figure out one's design so I can Draw Them

→ no longer feels cringe

[aberooski]

Been in not the most fun place mentally the last couple days but I felt a lot better today. I think taking a break from trying a failing miserably to look for a job helped 😅

[ckret2]

This is an earnest question - it came up in one of my fics and I'm curious how other people interpreted it.

I know that the Westmore-Backupsmore dichotomy is supposed to be a joke. It's a kids show, the depth of Ford's disappointment and failure has to be made obvious in the span of a few seconds, and hyperbole is funny.

However, it has always pushed my suspension of disbelief that Ford was being evaluated for a place that was supposed to be in-universe Stanford University or something, and when he didn't immediately get a full-ride scholarship to one of the best universities in the country, his alternative was a place with such a poor reputation that it was literally marketed as a backup plan.

I've seen several explanations for this. I've seen it suggested that he was just too arrogant to apply for a wide variety of schools, and by the time he realized he couldn't do Westmore he was scrambling for the only place with a long application window. I've seen it suggested that Backupsmore was actually a pretty good school, and that its poor reputation was unearned and due to classism because it made an effort to cater to lower-income students. The one I personally went for is that his family was skeptical about his academic aspirations, and as a result Filbrick would only pay the application fees for a small handful of schools.

Do you have an explanation?

When the principal calls the family in to tell them that Ford's a genius and has a shot at getting into West Coast Tech, they're all surprised and thrilled—including Ford. This isn't a case of "I just won't bother applying anywhere but WCT." All evidence suggests he didn't apply to WCT at all... since it seems like he'd never even imagined going until then. It sounds like, until then, Ford's post graduation plans really were sailing around the world with Stan.

I think it's the complete opposite of arrogance: I think he didn't apply anywhere because he assumed college just wasn't in the cards for him.

His family's poor. His family's also Jewish, which probably wouldn't actually impact anything in Friendly Disney Channel Show For Children but in real life it would be a reason for a lot of colleges to quietly turn down his application in the 60s. His family probably also knew that Ford was smart, but unless someone else told them, none of them—Ford included—had enough of a basis of comparison for just HOW smart he was.

They probably thought, sure, Ford's a bright kid, but, HOW bright? Yeah, brightest in the school, but that could be a "big fish in a little pond" deal, this doesn't look like the preppiest high school. Bright enough to be accepted into the fanciest schools in the country? They're not sure—until he's told he has a shot at West Coast Tech. Bright enough for his education to be worth the strain on the family that paying for a college education would be? DEFINITELY not... until that education became worth potential millions.

Bright enough for him to apply to the in-universe equivalents of Harvard and Yale and Columbia and Brown etc? Why bother? West Coast Tech was only interested in him when he had an amazing science project, and lost interest when he didn't. His stellar grades clearly didn't matter to them without that science project. No point in applying to the other equivalent schools now.

Or, hell, maybe he did apply—and, without a big flashy in-your-face wow-worthy science project, all they saw was a poor kid who got good grades from a mediocre school. Unless a poor kid is something really special, a 1960s Ivy League college would rather accept middle-or-upper-class kids with equally good grades—those kids will actually pay their tuition fees.

Or maybe they even did accept him! ... But, didn't consider him quite impressive enough for scholarships, and were too expensive without them.

Sure, we know Ford was a super genius—but a college would need some kind of proof he was a super genius rather than just Really Smart, and he didn't have that proof.

He didn't even consider going to college until probably late in the school year (assuming their science fair was probably in the spring). Within a couple of days he suddenly had WCT offered ("you're worthy of the greatest schools in the country!") and snatched away ("nvm you're not worthy"). Now suddenly, possibly for the first time in his life, college is on the table, and he's been told that he could be REALLY successful if he goes to college... but, the big fancy colleges won't take him. What does he do now?

Backupsmore might have been the best school that 1) he thought would take him (or actually WOULD take him), 2) he could still apply to, and 3) his family thought they could afford.

[erinlindsayy]

professor || carol danvers

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ . ┊ You're Carol's designated note taker, and usually the one teaching her a few things. What happens when you give her the wrong set of notes?

��  warnings: dirty talk, spanking, edging, violent use of straps, carol danvers tops (but I fully believe she's a switch now), umm... general unholiness, bratting, etc.

✧   a/n: surprise... I'm back... more content coming soon... I promise I've got a val/carol/r fic coming soon, but this popped into my head and I couldn't resist... JOCK COLLEGE CAROL, OK? JOCK RUGBY COLLEGE CAROL.

↬ like this work? let me know! comments help encourage writers to write more and let them know that you liked what they wrote :)

★ requests are open–I write for a number of fandoms! just ask :)

☆ comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated ☆

“Can any of you attempt to discern meaning from this week’s assigned reading? Why might I have selected this particular work for you all?” asks Professor Valkyrie, starting class for the day. Your hand immediately raises, and she nods in your direction. 

“Well, was not Beckett’s entire point to find meaning in the absence of conventional meaning?” 

Professor Valkyrie, nods. 

‘Interesting thought,” she says. “Care to elaborate?”

“Well,” you begin. “Beckett created a landscape for us that is so alien and foreign, and unlike what we know. The play does not include any symbolic elements, and it does not really go anywhere. You might try to make meaning out of the carrot that Didi and Gogo share, or the leaves appearing on the tree, but they literally mean nothing. At the end of the play--we, as well as Vladimir and Estragon, are all still waiting for Godot. So, in a sense, there is no meaning, but perhaps there is meaning in the fact that there is no intended meaning.” 

“Good,” replies Professor Valkyrie. “As always, a carefully articulated and thoroughly crafted response. Excellent work as usual.” 

You smile politely, and fall back into your seat as Professor Valkyrie continues to lecture about Samuel Beckett and the wonderful nature and reality of Waiting for Godot. 

Meanwhile, you’ve jotted at the top of your notes, in big bold letters ‘I hate this play!’ 

After all, the ability to just to understand and converse about a work of literature does not mean that one has to enjoy it. 

After class, you’re stopped, as usual, by the one and only  Carol Danvers. Resident jock, captain of the division one team, aspiring pilot, rumored sex god extrodinare, Carol Danvers. She’s quite the legend around campus, but not exactly for her work ethic as it pertains to academic pursuits, which are... lacking, to put it politely. 

“Do you have my notes for me,” she asks, holding her hand out. “I need to at least act like I’m going to study tonight, right?” 

You roll your eyes. “Carol, why do you ask for my notes if you never use them? You do realize that mere possession of the notes will not translate into you understanding the material, yes? You have to actually read them in order for the information to enter your head.” 

Your reply is snarky, short and snappy, but you’re fed up with Carol at this point. She asks you for notes in all the classes you share together (which, granted, is not many,) but never seems to read them or take any of her classes very seriously. Carol narrows her eyes at the response. 

“I’ll just sleep on them? Os--” 

You cut her off, finishing her sentence. 

“--mosis does not apply, Carol. You know that. You cannot absorb the material through the pores of your skin. Read the notes, and actually try for once, or stop bothering me. I could be taking notes for myself, rather than focusing on summarizing all of the lectures so that you can stuff them into your bag, never to see the light of day again. Don’t ask me for notes again unless you’re ready to be serious.” 

With that, you hastily pull out a few papers from your bag, not bothering to double check if they were the correct ones or not. You shove the papers into Carol’s and turn away sharply, not bothering to look back. Granted, you were headed in the completely wrong direction, but you weren’t about to give Carol the satisfaction of seeing your face again. 

Of course, Carol knows that you hardly need notes for your own purposes. Summarizing the lectures for her provides you with the information you need to keep your own mind sharp, with years of literary study and reading filling in the blanks to broader context for you. But still, you love to hassle her. Carol does feel guilty occasionally, knowing how much work you put into the notes you take for her. They’re always organized, and you write important little tidbits down in the margins. She always glances at them, but can never bring herself to actually study the notes. 

Tonight is different. Carol is inspired, reenergized by your scathing talk. She sits down at her desk, and finally pulls out the notes you gave her. She reads the first line, and laughs to herself. 

These definitely weren’t the notes she meant to give me, she thinks to herself. 

_______________________________________________________________________

You’re startled out of your evening study session by a loud ding from your phone. Normally, you wouldn’t check your phone in the middle of studying, but you’re intrigued. 

Your jaw drops slightly when you notice that the text is from Carol. 

8:57 hey. I’ve got a question about the notes

You’re shocked. Carol actually... read the notes? 

9:00 Shoot for it. How can I help? 

9:01 Well. The notes weren’t really on Waiting for Godot

9:04 Oh. Did I give you a repeat copy of last weeks’?

9:05 Well, I wouldn’t exactly say that they’re standard academic notes

You roll your eyes at her comment, typing out a harsh response before deleting it and sending a far more cordial reply. 

9:06 Oh? 

9:07 Well, for starters, I don’t think that Waiting for Godot has anything to do with sex. 

Attached to her text is a picture of your recent exploration of the things that turned you on, or as you aptly named it “An empirical study of the things that make me wet.” 

You’d never meant for anyone to see it, ever. It was purely a list of the things that you desperately wanted to try, things you enjoyed watching and reading, various things that interested you. 

You’d written the list mostly as a joke, as a way to get the ideas out of your head. You wondered how it even found your way into your backpack, and you’re ready to curl up into a ball and cry when Carol texts you again. 

9:13 I could help you, you know

9:14 I have a few things that I could teach you

9:15 What do you say we make a deal? 

You swallow thickly, intrigued. 

9:17 What sort of deal? 

9:19 You teach me literature. 

9:21 I’ll fulfill your deepest fantasies. (And take you out on a date ;) )

You blink slowly, unable to process the words appearing on your screen. A date? Lessons in sex? It all seems to be far too much to handle, and you’re not sure if Carol is serious. The prospect is alluring, however, and you can’t help but admit that you’ve had the tiniest (largest) of crushes on Carol ever since you saw her in that signature leather jacket of hers, kicking her legs up against the desk in front of her, even if your feelings were against your better judgment. You knew she was aware of this fact, and the way you were always angry around him for some odd reason. 

9:24 If this is a joke, it isn’t funny, Carol. 

9:30 I’ll pick you up at 7 tomorrow. Be ready. We’re getting pasta.  

__________________________________________________________________________

“So. You want to be a pilot, but now you’re here playing rugby and studying literature?”

Carol shrugs. 

“My best friend Maria and I were supposed to enlist together, but some shit happened and he needed me to stick around. I’ve always been good at rugby even though my dad hated that I played sports, and so I stuck around here. Got a full scholarship for rugby, and put the dream of flying aside. The academy will always be there. It’s not what I wanted, but it’s what Maria needed. I couldn’t just leave her when she needed me most.” 

You smile softly at Carol, shocked by her sudden display of emotion. She’s clearly conflicted, and her eyes drift up to the sky, staring wistfully at the dimming horizon. 

“I think that’s very brave of you, Carol. You’re a really good friend,” you say, reaching out to place a hand atop hers in a sudden burst of confidence. The evening had been oddly pleasant, and conversation flowed between the two of you. Granted, Carol was still somewhat of an egotistical jerk, but she was obviously emotionally conflicted, and she had sacrificed her biggest dream to help her closest friend when she needed it most.  

Carol looks down at your hand, tensing up for a second before flipping her palm to meet yours and giving your hand a quick squeeze. 

“I’m alright, ok? I don’t want you worrying about me.” 

You nod. Carol smiles, and moves to stand up. 

“What do you say we get out of here, and head back to my place? Maybe watch a movie?” 

You smile, nodding at Carol. “I’d like that a lot,” you whisper. “I’d like that.” 

Carol holds her hand out to you, helping you up out of your chair. You move to pull your hand out of hers, assuming she meant to just assist you up, but she holds on firmly as the two of you walk back to her vintage red Mustang. 

The drive back to her apartment is filled with throwbacks from the 90s, widows open and hair wild. You’re both singing the words of the songs obnoxiously, relishing in the sweet freedom of the open night. 

When you finally reach her apartment, your eyes are bright and your hair is messy. You look over at Carol, messy hair strewn about. You begin to laugh uncontrollably, with Carol joining shortly after upon seeing your own windblown look. 

When the laughter finally succeeds, you look over at Carol to find her gazing at you intently. You laugh apprehensively, but Carol’s gaze does not falter.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re beautiful,” she asks. 

You nod your head slowly. “Not really, no.” 

“But you had a boyfriend?” 

You nod. “It wasn’t really the best of situations. I’ve since come to many realizations about myself since then.” 

Carol smiles. “Well, then I guess I’ll just have to tell you as many times as I possibly can to make up for the lack of times you’ve been told that.” 

“Carol, I don’t even know how to respond to that,” you sputter out. 

“So don’t.” 

Carol leans in over the middle of the car, hesitantly pressing her lips against yours in a tender kiss. You’re surprised at first, but you lean into the kiss, melting against her mouth. Your hands tangle in her already messy hair, and you smile against her lips. The kiss intensifies as your hands begin to roam down Carol’s back, fingers itching to explore. She pulls her hands off of you, smiling softly. 

“Let’s head inside, Princess. We can have a lot more fun in my bedroom than we ever will out here.” 

You nod your head, eagerly anticipating the next steps. 

When you reach her apartment, he leads you past the kitchen, flipping on various light switches as she heads through the living room, finally reaching her bedroom. It’s surprisingly neat, with framed photos of her and a woman that you guessed was her friend Maria. There’s a small pin shaped like a sort of star resting atop her desk, with a framed photo of an adorable orange kitten. Her bed is neatly made, and the room is incredibly put together. 

“You like it, huh?” 

You jump, startled by Carol’s voice. 

“Yeah. Um, it’s very nice,” you reply. “Super neat.” 

Carol laughs. 

“Yeah, for all my disorganization at school, I do like to keep my apartment pretty tidy.” 

Carol walks over to her desk and picks up your list. 

“I think this belongs to you, my darling. We don’t have to do anything with it, or even speak of it again should you so wish that to be the case.” 

You bite your lip, considering your options. 

“Were you really serious, Carol?” 

Your heart is beating fast, and your palms are beginning to grow clammy. 

She laughs. 

“Of course I was serious, Princess. Why would I offer if I wasn’t?” 

You look down, mumbling your answer out. 

“I didn’t really think someone like you would ever be interested in someone like me, honestly.” 

Carol laughs, walking over to you. She gently tilts your chin up, meeting your eyes. 

“Hey. You’re smart, you’re beautiful, and you drive me up a wall when you’re yelling at me to fucking finally read your notes, as you so kindly put it in your own words. Of course I would be interested in a girl like you. You’re incredible.” 

She kisses you softly, slipping hers hands underneath your sweater. Breaking away for a second, she whispers to stop her if anything is too much. Green for go, she says. Red for stop. 

Her hands roam up your body, making their way up to your neck. She gently squeezes at the column of your throat, whispering in your ear. 

“I noticed you had this on your list, Princess. I did read your notes this time, and I did study up. I know all the things that could make you tick. And yet, I still want to hear you tell me what you want. You want me to choke you? Squeeze your throat till you’re begging me to stop?” 

“Yes, please,” you moan out. 

“Then use your words, Princess. Mmm... and what else should we do today? What other things from your little list do you want to try? I know you don’t want to start off simple... You even said so yourself. Tell me with your words, Princess. Tell me what you want.” 

You gasp, head tipping back as Carol’s hands resume their exploration of your body. 

“Cat got your tongue, Princess? Normally you’re so vocal during class... Why change now?” 

You moan again, unable to speak properly as Carol’s fingers find your nipples, gently pinching. He pinches harder when you are unable to answer her question. 

Moving hers hand to cup your jaw, he harshly tilts your face to look at him. 

“Answer me, Princess. I’m growing impatient and I don’t have all day. Normally you’re so quick to answer. What a shame.” 

“Put me in my place, please,” you gasp out, voice breaking. “I want you to edge me and spank me and punish me and tell me what a naughty little girl I’ve been, touching myself to the thought of you. I want to eat you out while I’m forced to touch myself, unable to cum without your permission. I want you to choke me as you pound me into the mattress with your cock, reminding me of my place. I want to be your good little girl, moaning only your name as you show me who I belong to.” 

Carol smirks. 

“I’ll be honest—I always knew you had a thing for me. You weren’t exactly discreet. The secret is, I had a thing for you too. I wasn’t expecting you to write about me in your notes, though. And I definitely wasn’t expecting you to write something like that ever. Our little teacher’s pet, our good little girl, the smartest girl in class—and such filthy thoughts! Didn’t take me long to figure out who the mysterious blonde figure was. You wrote some pretty explicit stuff in there, Princess. You’re such a filthy little whore... So many dirty thoughts! Imagine if those notes had fallen into the wrong hands...” 

Carol’s hands dip to the edge of your sweater, swiftly pulling it off of your body. She cocks an eyebrow at you upon seeing the lacy navy blue bodysuit underneath that you’d specifically selected for tonight. 

“Did you wear this just for me?” 

You nod. 

“Good girl. I like the way you think. Now, take off those pants for me. While you’re at it, get rid of that lacey little thing. It’s pretty, but you’re prettier.” 

You obey her quickly, shedding every stitch of clothing from your body. You’re trembling with excitement and anticipation, and you’re nervous as Carol’s eyes rake up and down your body. 

“Stunning,” she says, never taking her eyes off of your body. “You’re absolutely perfect. I can’t wait to teach you how to be a good little slut for me... you’re such a good learner. Wonder if that translates in the bedroom?” 

You groan, rolling your eyes. “Why don’t you shut up and find out already?” 

Carol laughs condescendingly. 

“You sure you want to mouth off like that, Princess?” 

You nod. “You seem to be all talk right now, and no action.” 

Carol growls. “We can change that. I don’t tolerate brats around here. Brats get punished. If you’re a good girl, you get rewarded. Which is it going to be tonight, Princess. I need an answer.” 

You roll your eyes without even thinking. “Just fuck me already, Carol.” 

Carol tangles her hand in your hair, pulling your head back. “I told you that brats get punished. It looks like you've selected the brat role tonight. Get on your fucking hands and knees. I’m not going to ask you a second time.” 

You quickly obey, scrambling onto your hands and knees. You wiggle your ass slightly, but Carol firmly holds it in place. 

“Stop. Now, since this is your first time, I’m going to take it easy on you. We are only going to do ten, but mark my words, if you pull this sort of bratting on me again, I can and will increase that number. Now, I want you to count.”

The first strike comes faster than you were expecting, but it does not hurt as much as you thought it would. 

“One,” you gasp out.

Carol strikes again, harder this time. 

“Two,” you gasp out again.

He continues, hitting a bit harder each time, and your ass is red by the finish. 

“Good girl,” she whispers in the shell of your ear. “You took your first punishment so well for me—it is almost like you were made to do this...” 

She ghosts her fingers lightly over your neck, drifting down to your collarbone before moving her hands to gently massage the soft tissue of your breasts. 

With a gentle slap to your aching ass, she gives you a new set of instructions. 

“Now. For our next lesson, you’re going to suck me off. The better you do, the less edges I’ll give you tonight. I hope you’ve been studying, Princess. Either that, or you just better wish that this comes naturally for you.” 

Carol swiftly pulls her pants and boxers down and throws her shirt to the side, revealing her toned abs and muscled back. You can see her muscles ripple as she stretches her arms above her head to take her shirt off. Your jaw goes slightly slack at the sight of her perfect nude figure.

“Close your mouth, Princess. You’ll catch flies.” 

You blush. “Sorry, Carol. You’re just so beautiful.” 

Carol winks. “I can tell, Princess. Your eyes haven’t left my torso.” 

You giggle, but quickly stop when Carol moves directly in front of you. 

“Test time, Princess. Hope you’ve studied. But, if you haven’t, I’ll allow for retakes. Think of this one as a pretext, if you will. How much do I need to teach you when it comes to this particular subject?” 

You moan at her words, mouth salivating. You’re desperate to touch her, to run your tongue over her strap. Carol leans down to press a quick kiss upon your lips, immediately guiding your face to her strap after. You’re unsure of what to do at first, the feeling foreign upon your tongue. Eventually, you begin to find your rhythm, head bobbing as you introduce a hand to match your rhythm. You continue your tiny kitten licks, timing them with the thrust of your fingers. Carol is silent for the most part, but every so often she breaks her stoic silence with a loud moan or gasp when you hit a particularly sensitive spot against her body. You grind against the pillow that Carol has placed between your legs, annoyed with the lack of friction you got, but thankful to have anything at all. Your tongue continues its way along Carol’s strap, body quivering with pleasure. 

It isn’t long before she’s moaning continuously.

After all, you have always been a very quick learner. 

Carol pulls away, and you whimper at the loss of contact. She messily kisses you, groaning at the taste of herself on your tongue. 

“For your first time, that was surprisingly good.”

You beam in satisfaction.

“However, I’m still going to edge you at least five times.”

You whimper. 

“But Carol—“

“No buts, pretty girl. It’s for your own pleasure, alright? It’s good to practice delayed gratification. Now, get over there on the back of the bed for me. Spread those legs as wide as you can. I want that dripping cunt of yours on display.”

You move off of your pillow, following her instructions. Carol walks over to you, hovering over you on the bed as she cages your body with her arms. 

“I want to hear every moan you make,” she growls. “Don’t hold back on me, Princess.” 

You nod. 

“Yes, Carol.” 

Carol smiles and strokes a single finger through your dripping folds. You shudder. The feeling of her soft fingertips against your throbbing core is heavenly, and you’re unable to hide from the breathless moan that escapes your mouth. 

Carol continues to slide her fingers through the folds of your cunt, relishing in the puffy texture as she explores. Her fingers trace small circles here and there, dipping into your soaking hole when she feels like doing so, pinching your clit, edging you into oblivion. 

You ask her to cum numerous times, but she always pulls away. Finally, she pulls away for the last time. 

“You can cum this time, Princess. But I want to cum on my cock for me like a good little slut, alright? I want you to scream my name for me. Let the whole world know you’re mine now.” 

You nod, moaning at her filthy words. She carefully lines up with you and thrusts in quickly, giving you a chance to adjust to the size and foreign feeling of the cock inside of you. 

When you nod at her, she begins to thrust her hips at an ungodly pace, hitting that perfect spot inside of you that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. She moves one hand to your clit, rubbing tight little circles over the throbbing organ, and her other hand moves to your throat, lightly pressing down. She’s pushing you into the mattress, firmly grinning the column of your neck as her hips thrust faster and faster. 

“You like it when I choke you? When your brain starts to go a little bit foggy and you can’t tell if it’s from the sex or lack of air? You like it when I tell you what a good little slut you are, taking my cock like such a good little Princess, showing how well you learn and how well you take instruction?”

“Yes,” you manage to gasp out in between moans. “Please, fuck me harder.” 

Although it seemed humanly impossible, Carol managed to fuck you harder. The relentless snap of her hips grew faster, thrusts hitting further and further inside of you each time. The hand rubbing your clit runs faster, harder, and just before you’re about to rip over the edge, Carol whispers in your ear. 

“Cum  for me, Princess. Cum like the good little girl you are.” 

You scream out in ecstasy as you tip over the edge, collapsing against the mattress. Carol pulls out, falling into bed next to you, wrapping her arms around you as she presses kisses to your neck and collarbone, drifting up to your forehead. 

“You did so well, Princess. You’re such a good learner. Looks like you’re just as good in here as you are in a classroom.” 

You smile. 

“I try my best. Honestly, that’s all I can ever do.”

Carol smiles. 

“A good attitude to have. Now, let’s go get you cleaned up.”

A few snacks, some water, and one blissful shower later, you’re dressed in Carol’s old sweatpants and sweatshirt as you climb into bed beside him. She’d invited you to stay the night, and you hadn’t been able to resist. Carol flips the lights off, pressing a delicate, featherlight kiss to your forehead. 

As you lay in bed however, you remember an important fact. 

“I still have to teach you all of literature,” you mumble. 

Carol laughs softly. 

“And I have many things to teach you still, darling. But for now, sleep.”

You smile, closing your eyes as you feel Carol’s grip on you grow stronger. 

Literature could wait until tomorrow.

[pudgedork]

feedist kinktober 2024 #10: containment breach

I was hoping to do more of these this month, but unfortunately some other stuff's come up and I've not had the time :(

I did finally get one done though, so here we go! your feedee fantasies had always been on the extreme side. when people asked about your aspirations, you had to resist the urge to answer truthfully. you’d instead talk about some career that sounded respectable, or how you wanted to travel, or something inoffensive like that. in reality, your sole desire was to get obscenely fat. you didn’t have a particular number in mind; but you wanted to be a spectacle, and you wanted to achieve this as soon as possible.

initially you tried gaining by yourself, but you soon realised this wasn’t going to achieve the results you were looking for. you managed to find some feeders online who would help pay for stuffing sessions, which helped greatly. the budget required for your lofty goals was substantial though, and soon even this arrangement proved insufficient.

a few years – and a couple hundred pounds – into your gain, you got a lucky break. you met someone who was interested in helping you reach your full potential. they’d learned of your extreme goals and wanted to find out if you were serious. this wasn’t the first time they’d heard a story like this though; feedees who claimed to want to become huge, but who’d inevitably end up bailing out well short of their goals.

they wanted you to prove your commitment first. if you did, they would completely fund your gain. they’d move you into an apartment near them, and everything would be taken care of for you; all you would have to do is eat all day, every day, for the rest of your life. you could become the whale you’d always dreamed of being.

originally this feeder had intended for you to complete some smaller challenges to prove your desire was genuine. when you managed to pack on 40 pounds in three months though, it was clear to them you meant business. soon they were helping you move into the new apartment they’d bought for you, and your weight began to absolutely balloon.

about a year prior to meeting your feeder, you weighed a little over 350 pounds. with their assistance, you were on the verge of 500 pounds a year later. another year came and went, and you now exceeded the capacity of your 600 pound limit scale. you had no intention of slowing down.

your lust for obesity had transcended desire, to become something you required. your appetite was insatiable. you were downing pints of weight gain shake like they were glasses of water. you were borderline feral each time you tore into another fast food delivery. it was a good thing your feeder was wealthy, because the bottomless pit in your gut was costing them a fortune.

within a few years of living this way, the effects were… dramatic. since moving into your apartment, you hadn’t actually left at any point. initially this was down to pure laziness; you could have all the food you desired delivered to your door, so why burn precious calories by going outside? soon you struggled with clothing; you didn’t own anything that could adequately cover even a fraction of your bulk, which you took as a sign to stay home. eventually, you simply became too wide to fit through the front door; not that you ever actually bothered trying, though.

for most, that would be the point where the consequences of their greed jolted them to their senses. even most hardcore feedees would – upon realising they had become so fat they were trapped in their apartment – probably dial things back a bit. for you, this achievement barely registered.

as the months passed, it became increasingly difficult to haul yourself to your feet. not wanting to hinder your progress, your feeder hired a live-in maid to eliminate the need for you to move. literally everything – short of lifting food to your mouth and chewing – was now done for you. the woman hired as your maid handled everything else, and – under the instruction of your feeder – constantly encouraged you to push yourself; to keep expanding, to keep getting heavier.

the pounds continued to pile on, and soon enough you had entered true blob territory. quite how heavy you were was a mystery, but it was hard to imagine there were many – if indeed any – people fatter than you on the planet. it had been years since you were last capable of hauling your enormous ass out of bed, and you lived in a permanent state of bliss.

and yet, you’d remained a secret. despite your pleasure from the absurd amount of weight you’d piled on, the anonymity left you a little unfulfilled. delivery drivers occasionally spoke of the enormous person who lived in this apartment complex, but nobody had seen them in years.

most wrote it off as an urban legend, and even those who believed the stories assumed there was a hefty degree of artistic license at play. others in the building had noticed there was one unit on the first floor that seemed to get an awful lot of deliveries, but the woman who answered the door was fairly thin. as far as they were aware, nobody else lived there.

you had achieved your fantasy; a helpless eating machine, living in your own little hedonistic haze without a care in the world. as far as you could reach out, all you could feel were the endless waves of your own flab. nobody would ever tell you to slow down, criticise you for what you'd become, beg you to get a hold of your addiction… you would be enabled and encouraged from here on out. it was perfect.

that was, until it happened. the day you breached containment. it was a pleasant, unremarkable friday evening. most of your neighbours were arriving home from work, while you were busy finishing your second gallon of weight gain shake to wash down the several dozen donuts you’d inhaled in the last hour. as you released a satisfied belch – and your maid lifted the funnel away as she climbed off of you – you heard an odd creaking noise. you were used to the floor straining a little as you leaned your weight around, but this sounded more… intense? was the bed going to collapse?

before you had a chance to process this thought, the floor of your bedroom completely caved in beneath your bed. you crashed through to the ground floor below; dropping into the middle of the lobby. thankfully you landed on a seating area that wasn’t in use, and between your now destroyed bed and your own ample padding the impact hadn’t been especially sore. once you collected your thoughts however, the reality of the situation set in.

you had gotten so fat, that your apartment floor couldn’t support your weight anymore. you hadn’t even considered that as a possibility. but here you lay, in a crater caused by your sheer mass; completely naked, beached, and with a room full of strangers staring in stunned silence at you. they gawked at your rolls, beginning to whisper among themselves; you were absolutely mortified. in different circumstances you’d want the ground to swallow you up, but you’d had enough of that for one day. yet despite this utter humiliation – or perhaps, thanks to it – you’d never felt so aroused in your life.

well you had always wanted to be a spectacle, hadn’t you?

[bamsara]

Good evening, Bam! I actually have an inquiry that pertains to writing. Im sure you heard this a thousand times, but i love your fics. Y/N feels very much like a real person and the ideas are stellar. But, the question is: How do you get your word count up? I aspire to be a writer but always seem stuck at around 2k words. Any general tips would be much appreciated! Lots of love your way :)

To be honest I struggle with writing until something possesses my mortal form and makes me forget all earthly needs and desires so I sit down and not move for about 14 hours while I write 10k-15k in one sitting so I don't have any legitimate advice-

However! I did learn one trick that helps me when I'm stuck. Write the dialogue first, and then the actions and words in between after, on your second run through. So your draft looks like this:

"I really don't think you should be messing with that. What if someone catches you?"

"Relax! I've got connections. And no one is gonna notice anyway."

Then go back in, break up dialogue and add in your actions and possessive nouns:

His eyes flit between her and the computer, then to the door down the hallway where the last employee disappeared behind moments prior. "I really don't think you should be messing with that " Ryan whispers, hushed low enough and shoulders hunched up to his ears like there were cameras sticking out of the walls. "What if someone catches you?"

She's already tried the first few passwords, failed, and succeeded by the 4th try by the time he's done whining. So she waves her hand nonchalant."Relax! I've got connections. And no one is gonna notice anyway."

May not work in all spots and cases since sometimes less action speaks more and leaves more up to the imagination of the reader to fill in the gaps for the expression the characters have, or the tone, and the setting. But just a small trick I learned that I use when drafting.

[star-crifice]

James Diamond x Reader

Words: ~ 3160

A/N: My 10 year old self must've taken over me and ghostwritten this bc why the hell am I, a 19 year old, writing BTR fanfiction AND it's the best stuff I've written in months. God. Have fun. I'm so done over here.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

James has got a thing for you.

And that’s not a secret, not even to you. When he likes someone, he pursues them – that’s nothing new. The very moment you stepped into the Palmwoods, retrieving your key and James just so happened to walk into the lobby, the word “Dibs!” left his lips so fast, his friends didn’t even have a chance to lay eyes on you.

He wasn’t afraid to show you his interest, just like he was with every other person that appealed to him. But the difference with you was that every sweet word from him was laced with the tiniest bit of hesitation.

Just after a few days of getting to know you, the sheer thought of being rejected by you would have ruined him. One part of him wanted to share every sweet thought about you that ever crossed his mind, another part of him was – possibly for the first time – genuinely scared of your reaction.

His advances at you didn’t go unnoticed. At first, you felt flattered at such a good looking, charming guy flirting with you. Though it did feel a bit overwhelming, you barely knew him after all. You thought if he actually liked you like that, he would wait a bit. He’d be ready to get to know you more. But that wasn’t quite the case, at least how it appeared to you.

You got to know the boys of Big Time Rush along with the friends they made in the Palmwoods and spent a lot of time with them. However, James would always try to get close to you – it felt suffocating. You didn’t have the heart to reject him and tried to instead gently push him away, both literally and metaphorically.

James didn’t quite get it, thinking you aren’t into him yet and he would have to try harder. But after a while it felt simply pointless to him and he stopped. He went back to his usual self, flirting with any pretty girl willing to pay attention to him. It was obvious that he did this to distract himself from you, but if anyone would have asked him he’d insist that he’s over you – what a lie. At that point he was head over heels.

Desperation coated his aimless flirts, reaching for the attention he craved from you.

At this point James and you were good friends, having known each other for a bit longer. You finally felt like you knew him and he might know you.

It happened quite overnight – no, actually. Faster than that. He was only a friend, you swear. But that one friday night… A power outage. A few people from the Palmwoods sat outside beside the pool, surrounding a campfire. That and the countless candles being the only sources of light shimmering on your skin. A guitar went around, person after person sharing their musical talent waiting for the electricity to come back. Of course, it didn’t take long until it was James and his friends' turn. You were swaying back and forth, humming along with the tune of their song and basking in the heat of the fire. It was a very cozy moment and for the first time since arriving at the Palmwoods, you felt like you were surrounded by normal teens instead of aspiring stars. You’ve never felt closer to your friends, neighbors and even the people you’ve never talked to. You dared to look over at the boys singing, just a moment. But that very second you laid your eyes on James, something clicked in your mind. You’ve seen him countless times, always looking perfect, keeping himself in check. Though in that moment, the way he sat there – his hair disheveled from being in the pool, wearing his still slightly wet swimming trunks and a loose shirt, singing and swaying and having fun – something sparked in you.

And suddenly you missed when he shifted to sit just a bit closer to you, kept eye contact like his life depended on it and would put his hand on your shoulder, so tender and carefully as if he could scare you away. You took it for granted back then. That was quite literally how you got to know him and now that part is basically gone.

That “moment” you looked at him happened to turn into a full on stare. Not too obvious of course, but embarrassing enough that when his gaze caught yours, you turned your head faster than you even processed what just happened.

You’d like to slap yourself for the train of thought that just occupied your mind. Yes, James was nice and lovely and good looking and charming and whatever – but to you he also seemed like he never took it seriously.

To you, he tried to wrap you around his finger until he realized that you aren’t that easy to swoon.

To you, it seemed like he got bored of you and flirted with the next girl, until he got bored of her and flirted with the next. Again and again.

To you he was just a heartthrob, simple as that.

To him, you were an unattainable star he could only wish for.

Therefore, only a friendship blossomed between the two of you.

A while has passed since that night of realization and to be honest, you kept struggling to look at James the same. He shined a bit brighter in your life and that made you mad. There was no way you could ever have something serious with him, you told yourself. Just yesterday you saw him in the park with his arm around a pretty black haired girl.

Though the truth is, her eyes reminded James of yours. And he ghosted her by the end of the day because her laughter sounded off beat and sour compared to yours. He kept asking himself if you laugh at other peoples jokes like you do at his – if you ever gifted that smile, that one special smile he only saw a couple of times, to anyone but him. He hoped you didn’t.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

James, Carlos, Logan and Kendall were at the studio, recording a song like so often. As usual they were having fun, making jokes, pissing off Gustavo until James fell silent.

“Everything alright?” Logan asked after he took note of James' sudden change in behavior.

“My mother will come this evening,” he says rather quietly, shocked at himself for forgetting this.

“That’s good though, isn’t it? As long as she doesn’t want to take you back to Minnesota.” Kendall shrugs.

Of course that’s good. James is glad that he might build a normal mother-son relationship despite the long distance, now that his mother agreed to come visit him more often. However, there is one tiny little issue…

“I told her I have a girlfriend,” James admits.

“But you don’t..?” Carlos raises an eyebrow, “When was the last time you’ve had an actual girlfriend?”

“THATS-” James says loudly before cutting himself off, “Don’t say it like that.”

He takes a deep breath, thinking about how to handle this situation. A while ago his mother called, in true motherly fashion she obviously had to know about her son's love life. He might have been too prideful, and amidst his pride a bit delusional; he didn’t want to admit that for the first time in a while, he was hopelessly in love with someone. So he lied.

Of course he had a girlfriend. She’s lovely and special, not like any of the girls he brought home that his mother never approved of.

The band wasted no time, finishing work in record speed, rushing out of the studio so fast, not even Gustavo's angry shouts reached them. They were going to find a “girlfriend” for James for this evening, no matter what it takes.

They reached the Palmwoods, scanning the lobby like they were on a hunt.

“Any preferences or just anyone? Look at that blonde over there, she’s pretty!” Carlos pointed across the room.

“Oh no she knows me,” James shook his head.

“We need someone we can trust to play along and lie. And she has to lie well, you know James’ mom.” Logan thought out loud.

Just in the right moment, you came out of the elevator, walking across the lobby.

“Her!” Kendall, Logan and Carlos shouted in unison. You stopped in your tracks, hesitantly pointing to yourself with a questioning expression, “Me?”

James stared at you with wide eyes. Of course you’d be the perfect fit. You know him, join his shenanigans regularly, aren’t too bad at lying and surely wouldn’t get your hopes up like others might. Though his heart aches a bit at the thought. He doesn’t admit it to himself, but he still likes you just a bit too much for his liking. Maybe he’d be the one to falsely get his hopes up after acting out a relationship for a whole evening. Going back to friends after his mother leaves might hurt a little too much. Is he ready to take that risk?

“We need you to be James' girlfriend!” Kendall said loudly, rushing over to you along with Carlos and Logan.

“What? Huh?” You’re surprised to say the least. Was that a confession? A joke? The boys explained the situation to you – a bit fast and all over the place, but good enough. By the end of it, James finally walked over to the four of you, his expression being a mix of embarrassment, panic and hope.

“Could you do that? Pleeeease? For us?” Kendall said, joined by Carlos: “We’ll make it up to you, pinky promise!”, as Logan nodded profusely.

“I guess, yeah. We can do that.” You nodded slowly, looking over at James. The tension in his shoulders was gone, he could breathe for a moment.

Together, you went up into the band’s apartment, being greeted by Kendall’s mom. She already started the dinner and immediately you joined her and helped prepare the meal and table. With now 5 more people by Ms. Knights side, it took significantly less time to get everything ready.

“James, can you pass me the plates?” You asked the boy, he looked at you for a moment, appearing like a deer in headlights, before bringing you the stack of plates. You smiled at him, nodding as a thanks and put the plates down around the table.

The both of you haven’t been this close in a while and on top of that, didn’t feel this awkward around each other in a while. About half an hour until James' mother arrives at the Palmwoods, the food was simmering on the stove and the table looked like straight out of a five star restaurant, adorned with flowers and folded napkins.

You joined James on the sofa, letting yourself fall against the soft cushions in hopes of it releasing the tension building up inside of you. In just 28 minutes you’d have to act like the girlfriend of the boy you’ve had a very complicated almost-crush on (that you had yet to admit to yourself).

“You’re stupid, you know that?”, you said with a slight laugh in your voice. James turned to you, slouched back into the sofa with his arms crossed. Up until then, he looked serious and deep in thought. Now he’s raising an eyebrow and fighting a smile.

“For lying to my mom?”

“For lying to your mom,” you said, slowly subconsciously mimicking his pose. You looked at him a bit longer, trying to figure out what he thought at the moment.

“It’s gonna work out, yeah? I’ll try my best. I’ll be so all over you, your mom would think we're about to get married or something,” you tried to joke to lighten the mood, slightly nudging his knee with yours. A long sigh escaped his lips and finally, a smile appeared.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“So you’re the lucky girl?” Ms. Diamond says in an unreadable voice. James just picked her up at the entrance of the Palmwoods, guiding her up into the apartment where everyone else was waiting patiently. She walked through the door, radiating willpower, sternness and a bit of sass.

Now she’s standing in front of you, reaching out her hand for you to shake and looking you up and down, before glancing towards James, raising her eyebrows so quick you almost didn’t see it. You follow her gaze over to her son, widening your eyes a bit, hoping he gets the message that you're ‘struggling over here!!!!’

He quickly comes over, resting his hand on your back. You see his mother noticing the gesture and lean a bit into James' touch, just as the cherry on top.

The both of you guide Ms. Diamond over to the table and you rush to help Ms. Knight with the pots and pans, bringing them over to the table. As everything’s ready and you want to sit down, James quickly gets up from his seat beside you and pulls out the chair for you in true gentleman's fashion. He gestures to you to sit and you do as he says, before he pushes your chair to the table.

Accidentally, as he sits down, his knee touches yours, but he doesn’t pull away. Neither do you. You keep telling yourself it’s just for show.

Everyone starts chatting – especially the two mothers of the table that desperately need to catch up – and filling their plates up. You do as everyone else, though quietly. You’re so unbelievably focused on James (obviously for the sake of the lie) that you’re not sure what to say.

“So,” Ms. Diamond says, her voice effortlessly louder than the others, “How did you two sweethearts meet?”James and you look at each other. Shit. You didn’t plan anything like that.

“Uhm..” You start, stalling a bit to figure out a good story.

“Right here, at the Palmwood,” James says confidently after a moment, “She walked in and I saw her and I said ‘wow!’”

“Actually, he said ‘DIBS!’,” Carlos says with a full mouth, earning a light punch from Katie.

“I got to know the boys and he didn’t move from my side,” you add to James’ retelling.

“It just kind of happened. We became friends and slowly… more,” he looks at you and you have to fight to keep a smile on while hearing his corny words. You nod, looking at your food to not let the mask slip.

James' mother asks you more and more and you feel like you can’t put an end to it. Every now and then James would get a bit closer, say something sweet to you or simply wink. You felt like when you arrived at the Palmwoods. But you let it happen, for the sake of fooling his mother. And maybe you enjoyed it a bit. Just a tiny little bit.

But the thought that all this is just fake and quite literally the result of the fact he doesn’t take relationships seriously, makes you want to push him away again.

Gently just like the way he slowly grabs your hand right now.

Tenderly like the way he lets his thumb glide up and down over the ridges of your knuckles.

You want to push him away, just not too far. So he’ll be gone for now but might come back later.

Maybe you just want to push him to lay your hands on him just once, but there are better ways to do that, aren't there?

So you let it happen, basking in his adoration for once. Enjoying it a bit too much for your liking.

After about an hour of dinner and chit-chat, Ms. Diamond excuses herself and her son to go on a little mother-son-walk through the park. You bid goodbye to her, reciprocating her firm handshake as a good last impression.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You finish washing the dishes before James comes back from the walk. Neverending questions about what his mother thinks of you plague your mind, but you're not sure why. The show is over after all.

Finally back in your own apartment, you pace back and forth, replaying the events of today again and again in your head. It’s already a bit dark out when you almost overhear someone knocking on the door from how filled your mind is. You rush over, not even looking through the peephole before opening the door.

Of course, James is there. Alone and calm, no smile or even flirtatious smirk adorning his face.

“Hi,” you say, curious about what he wants.

“Hey.” He lays his hand on the door, pushing slightly, letting himself in. It’s dark in your apartment, aside from a small warm lamp on a table beside the couch, illuminating the both of you just enough, casting an orange glow on his face like that night at the campfire.

Oh and how you wish that feeling in your stomach – just like that night at the campfire – would leave.

You take a few steps back, standing awkwardly in your living room, letting him come in.

“How did it go? The walk with you mom,” you ask quietly. He nods, collecting his words and looking into the lamp.

“Good. She liked it. She liked you, I think.”

“What did she say?” you ask, now even more curious. She liked you.

“You seem like a sweet person. She’s used to other types of girls from me. She thinks you’d be good for me.” He laughs a bit at the end.

You fidget with your hands, not sure what to say. Usually he’s more cheery and talkative, finding topics for conversations, even if he just wants to talk about himself.

“So… friends, right?”, you say, even more quietly.

A smile forms on his lips, barely visible, “I don’t know. Do you like me? Because I like you.”

“I know you do. You like a lot of people though, so what’s it worth?”

His smile drops.

“If you’re not going to give me a chance, then at least a kiss to get over you?”

He steps closer, you stay put.

“You’re just trying to swoon me,” you say, trying to be stern but hearing that sentence out of your own mouth makes you smile a bit. He comes closer again and you want to step back, but looking at him makes you remember all the times he made your heart flutter. You think of all the times you looked at him and thought to yourself, if he kissed you now, you’d be his. You feel his warmth now, he leans in.

And you let it happen. And you kiss back. Gently. Tenderly. Slow.

One kiss, he said. But not how long it will last.

Eventually, you pull back, looking down.

“Are you over me now?” you ask, not sure what answer you’re hoping for.

“Are you kidding?” he laughs.

“So… this is serious, then?” you ask hesitantly.

He nods.

[sydsaint]

A little taste of what's to come with our fav GM Reader and her boys. <3

Summary: GM reader flexes her hard-earned experience and the benefits that come with it to Ava at a draft meeting. But offering Ava some wisdom isn't the only thing that she's got on the agenda.

"Your boys lost the match fair and square, Pearce." You smile across the table at your fellow general manager. "Which means that Smackdown gets first dibs at the NXT roster, courtesy of Ava, of course." You turn in your chair to face Ava sitting a few seats away from you.

Ava flashes a friendly smile at you. This is her first WWE draft meeting, so she's still in the feeling-out process of everything. "I'm just happy to be here." She admits.

"And we're happy to have you here." Pearce nods. "But back to business. YN, do you have a pick from the NXT roster to kick the night off?" He turns back to you.

"I do, yes." You grin and twirl your pen in your hand before pulling open the vanilla folder in front of you. "Smackdown will be taking Carmelo Hayes as our first pick from NXT." You inform the room.

A knowing scoff escapes Pearce's lips. He taps his pen against his palm and nods at you. "Excellent choice, YN." He compliments you. "Your eye for talent never ceases to amaze me." He adds knowingly.

"What can I say, Adam? I can't help but have good taste." You laugh and wink at him playfully.

The meeting drags on for a few more hours while you and Pearce go back and forth on draft picks. Ava chimes in when one of you has a question about the NXT roster, but otherwise stays silent and soaks in all the information she can get. Ava especially keeps a keen eye on you. She aspires to be like you one day. A strong woman that commands authority and understands the inner-workings of the company like the back of your hand.

After the meeting finally comes to an end, both you and Pearce are feeling satisfied with your respective picks. The two of you shake hands and part ways until the next executive meeting or PLE show. You are just about shoot the boys a text that you're finished up with your meeting when Ava approaches.

"YN! Hey, again." Ava cracks a friendly and eager smile as she walks over to you.

"Hmm?" You glance up from your phone. "Oh, Ava! What's up, girl?" You greet her.

Ava bounces on her heels nervously and smiles at you. "Sorry to bother you." She bites the inside of her cheek. "But I was hoping that we could talk for a minute?"

"Yeah, sure." You nod and pocket your phone. "I've got some time before my date gets here."

Ava nods and the two of you move to a more comfortable spot to chat for a bit. You both take a seat out in the outdoor lounge and take advantage of the warm sun still hanging in the sky.

"You were great earlier." Ava starts the conversation. "I mean. It's so cool how you manage to control the narative when you're negotiating with Pearce." She gushes. "That's what I want."

"Thanks, Ava." You giggle at her awe of you. "You did good for your first draft meeting too." You offer her an encouraging smile. "I know you haven't been in charge of the NXT roster for long. But you seem to have a good handle on it. Your knoledge of everyone really helped Pearce and I out with our picks." You assure her.

The smile on Ava's face grows wider at your encouraging words. "Thanks, YN. That really means a lot." She blushes.

"Of course!" You nod. "You've got a bright future kid." You knock into her shoulder playfully.

You and Ava chat for a while about work. You offer her some tips about things that you had to learn the hard way in order to move up in the business. Ava soaks up the information and doesn't hesitate to ask questions, which you like.

"Hey, I actually have another question for you." Ava prepares to drop another ask on you. Not that you mind. "If you don't mind, that is." She adds.

"Ask away." You smile at her.

Ava picks at her nails for a second before nervously meeting your gaze. "Are the rumors true about you, LA Knight, Grayson Waller, and Austin Theory?" She asks you sheepishly.

A laugh falls from your lips upon hearing Ava's question. "Well it's no secret that Knight and I have a special relationship." You half-answer her. "But when it comes to Theory and Waller? Well, some things are better left to the imagination, don't you think, Ava?" You tease her and your phone buzzes in your pocket.

You take out your phone and quickly read the new message. Ava watches you curiously as you rise to your feet and pocket your phone before pulling down your sunglasses.

"You're doing great as the GM of NXT." You praise Ava one last time. "But don't ever forget that being the GM comes with it's own special perks." You grin at her as a fast-sounding car whips into the parking lot.

Ava watches you gesture for her to follow you as the luxury car sounds closer and closer. She follows you out to the front of the building where she spots the luxury car she heard now sitting still. LA Knight leans against the drivers-side door and nods to Ava when he sees her.

"You out here picking up strays now, darlin?" Knight peers at you over the rim of his aviators.

"Just giving a newbie some tips from a pro." You grin back at him. "You ready to go? The boys are starting the party without us from the text I just got from the pretty boy." You add.

Knight chuckles and walks around the car to get the door for you. "The party don't really start until you get there, sweetheart. You know that."

"Take care Ava!" You offer Ava one last wave. "Shoot me a message if you ever need anything, alright, girl?" You add.

"Yeah! Okay!" Ava nods, her eyes sparkling with awe as you dissapear into the car.

Knight walks back around the car and pulls his glasses down to get a good look at Ava. "You have a nice rest of your day, sweetheart." He shoots a wink at her before pushing his glasses back up and disapearing into the car as well.

Ava watches the car speed out of the parking lot and shakes her head. Oh yeah. She's definetly got a new role model to look up to.

In the car you laugh with Knight regarding your little display. "Oh her face was so cute." You giggle.

"She did looked pretty shocked, yeah." Knight agrees. "How'd the meeting go with Pearce?" He asks you.

You smile to yourself and look at Knight knowingly. "It went great. Smackdown is about to become the A-show again. Trust me on that, babe." You laugh to yourself. "Because I've got Carmelo Hayes in my office on Friday night. And he's all mine to work with."

"Hayes, huh?" Knight glances over at you for a brief second. "You ain't looking to add another boytoy to the roster, are you?" He asks you.

"We'll see." You shrug, plans for new rivalries and storylines already forming in your head.

[pedal-writes]

Homesick (1)

Summary: What happens when Sam Witwicky's older sister, you, gets wrapped up with the conflict of the autobots and the decepticons coincidentally by visiting your family? Over time, it seems that you and the autobot's leader find out you two have more in common than you initially thought… But it doesn't really mean anything, right?

A/N: Hi everyone! This is gonna be my first actual long fanfic which I'm pretty nervous about (since I always seem to backtrack on the ones I try to write.)

But I recently watched Transformers 2007 and the brainrot is honestly too intense, I had to do something about it so bayverse OP x reader!! It's funny, I've been a transformers fan since 2017 and I've now just got around to watching the movie. I was kinda putting it off since it's not exactly a fan fav among some transformers fans haha. Oh yeah, there are a few scenes from the movie I won't write like the weird bumblebee piss scene and some of the mildly suggestive dialogue considering the other two main characters (besides the reader) are literally like 16 😭. Micheal bay is a freak!!!

Just a heads up, I guess I'm going for a more wattpad-y vibe for this fic considering some of the tropes that I'm using and the fact I'm going directly off of the tf 2007 movie (cause that's like every bayverse op x reader that's on there lolz). Idk Ig I just have a guilty pleasure for corny fics so yeah!!

If y'all want to read this on ao3 or Wattpad, it's in my pinned post :3 Anyways, bye pookies!!

As the moon's reflected light illuminated the dark room, it was quiet besides the occasional shuffling and jolting that came from your sleeping form. Suddenly your eyes shot open. You groaned as you sat up and felt a layer of cold sweat coating your forehead. You shakily got up from the bed and began a walk to the kitchen to get a glass of water. A small creak came from the cabinet and you grabbed a small glass and filled it with tap water, taking a few gulps. After four long years of college, you decided to move away from your hometown and all the way across the country to the east coast. Los Angeles was never your type of city as, in your opinion, it was mainly set up for movie stars and aspiring musicians, not computer scientists. So moving to a completely different city like Philadelphia to pursue your passion sounded like a fantastic idea. But now that you’re here, you’ve felt nothing but homesick.

You’ve always been a family-orientated person, always spending time with your parents and helping Sam, your little brother, with what he needed for school. Although he could be a serious little shit sometimes, the two of you were like peas in a pod, absolute besties! A small smile grows across your face as you think of the times you picked him up from school and took him to the arcade or when you always managed to find tickets to his favorite bands and saw them during the weekends.

A small sigh leaves your lips and you set down your glass on the counter. You walk back into your bedroom and take a look at the calendar hanging on the wall, the month being March. The thought of visiting your family crossed your mind and you could wait a few more months until summer came around but it’s not like you were working at the moment. After you moved, you were working a job as an information security analyst. The pay was definitely above average and it was going alright until an unsavory incident happened with a coworker and you literally couldn’t work there, so you quit.

Alright, I have enough money in my bank account to buy a plane ticket and to sustain me for a few weeks while I’m there. I should probably call mom in the morning and tell her I’m planning on visiting, her and dad will probably be ecstatic. As for Sam…

You opened a drawer on your nightstand and pulled out a piece of jewelry. It was an opal bead necklace you found at the mall one day. It was sort of an impulsive purchase, considering the price, but you thought it would be a nice gift for your little brother because opal was his birthstone after all. You gently placed the necklace back in the drawer and shut it, making your way back to your calendar and writing a few reminders on some of the upcoming days. 

       . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

After all the planning and flying, you were finally back in California. It really was a pain since there somehow weren't any available flights to Los Angeles from Philadelphia so you had to spend the night in an empty airport in Kansas and fly to L.A. in the morning. A yawn falls from your lips as you drive through the familiar neighborhoods leading up to your family's home. You turn on the radio and the latest hit began to play, “Irreplaceable” by Beyonce you thought. It wasn’t really your type of music but it’s Beyonce.

A few minutes passed and you heard your phone ringing. You turned down the radio and grabbed it from the passenger seat, flipping it open and putting it against your ear. “Hello?”

‘Hi honey.’ It was your mom. ‘How far out are you?’

“Oh hi mom. I’m not that far, just give me a few more minutes. You don’t have to call me when you know I'll be there eventually.” You chuckled, gently pressing the brakes as you stopped at a red light.

‘I know, I’m just excited to see you!’ Her voice buzzed excitedly. ‘I’ll be waiting outside for you, see you in a bit.’

“See you in a bit.”

A few moments later the familiar layout of your house came into view and you couldn't help but feel a bit giddy. You saw your mom, Judy, excitedly waving next to the frontdoor, you smiled to yourself. You pulled your car into the driveway and got out of it, Judy pulling you into a tight hug, swaying you from side to side slightly. "I'm so happy to see you, honey!" 

She said sweetly, pulling away while holding both of your hands. "How’s my little genius been?"

Your smile turned into a small frown. "Oh I've been doing... alright for the most part. I had to quit my job recently because of a bad experience I had with a coworker. I’ll tell you about it later but it really sucks, I liked that job." You grimaced slightly at the memories of the not-very-pleasant experience, Judy patting your back in a comforting manner. "Anyway, say, where's dad?" You abruptly changed the subject.

"Oh, your father had to run some errands, but he'll be back soon. He's been so hellbent on making his grass perfect. I think he's starting to go a bit crazy." She said, doing a swirly motion around the side of her head.

You chuckle as you walk back over to your car to retrieve your bag and suitcase. You and Judy walk into the house, an excited mojo greeting you by jumping up and down in that typical chihuahua fashion. "Aw, hi mojo." You cooed, leaning down and petting him near his ears. "I missed you too." Your eyes drifted down to his coller, seeing the jewelry wrapped around his neck.

“Is this your doing, mom?” You laughed.

Judy simply shrugged. “I think it looks cute on him. Oh yeah, Sam's upstairs doing his whole eBay thing, I'm sure he'll tell you all about it when you talk to him." Judy said, walking towards the kitchen and preheating the oven. "Do you need help with your bags?"

"No I'm alright mom, thanks though." You say, walking towards the staircase with your bags in hand.

"Alright honey, make sure to tell Sam I'm making lunch."

"Will do!" You holler from upstairs.

You head towards the rather empty room that used to be yours and set your things down, looking around at the empty walls where posters used to hang and the still neat bed, feeling a little nostalgic. You exit your room and head right to Sam's, ignoring the do not enter sign and opening the door. You see your brother’s hunched over figure messing around on his computer and shake your head, knocking on the door frame to alert him of your presence. Sam jumped, turning around suddenly. "Jesus! You scared the shit outta me. I didn't know you were here yet."

"I can't believe you didn't hear me. Come here, give me a hug dude." You said, spreading your arms in an inviting motion. Sam rolled his eyes and walked over and hugged you. You gave him a small pat on the back and pulled away from him, giving him a small grin. "So how are things? How's school?" You asked.

"It's good, pretty good. I've been trying to get this whole eBay thing running. Oh yeah, and dad made a deal with me and soon I’ll have my own car. I just gotta get an A on this history project coming up." Sam replied, turning around and typing a few more things into his laptop before closing it.

“Wow, that’s awfully generous of him. I’m excited for you though.” You chuckled, leaning against his door frame and crossing your arms. "Anything new with that one girl… What was her name?"

"You mean Mikaela?”

“Yeah Mikaela, The girl you’ve liked since forever and is totally not out of your league.” You said sarcastically.

"What??" Sam exclaimed, whipping his head towards you. "She is not out of my league! She is really gorgeous and stunning in every single way, and she would totally give me a chance. I just gotta… ask her.”

"And when will that be, Casanova?" You laughed.

"Soon! Really really soon. When I get this car next week, and I will get that A, then I’ll have a chance! Any girl loves a guy with a nice car." Sam said, a cocky tone in his voice. 

"Oookay, I hear you... oh yeah! Hold on, I got something for you, give me a second..." You walked into your room and rummaged through your purse, pulling out the necklace. You walk back into Sam’s room and excitedly give him the piece of jewelry. “I found it while I was shopping at the local mall a few months ago. Since Opal is your birthstone, I thought you’d like it. And it’s also not a super girly necklace, you’re welcome by the way.”

Sam took the necklace from your hands and admired the carefully strung together beads in the sunlight of his window, the beads glimmering a variety of colors. “Wow this is really neat. Thank you but y’know, I'm not really much of a jewelry guy." Sam said a bit nervously.

"Oh come on, wear it!" You pat him on the back reassuringly. "Girls love guys who are comfortable with their sexuality, it shows maturity. Besides, you'll look like one of those... surfer guys. You know what I mean? When they wear those small necklaces.”

Sam frowned and gestured to himself. "Do I look like a surfer guy?"

"I’m just trying to be supportive!" You said, making your way out of the room. "By the way, mom's making lunch. Make sure not to get too engrossed in your master plan of getting with Mikaela and actually put some meat on those bones." You commented teasingly.

Sam groaned and waved you off dismissively, sitting down at his desk again. You chuckle and walk into your room, crouching down and pulling a few essentials out of your suitcase. Now that you’re back in Cali, you were excited to see a few of your friends that you’ve been friends with since high-school. Funnily enough, you managed to become friends with the “popular girls” solely because you helped a few of them with their math and science work and now they deemed you besties for life.

Which you didn’t mind honestly.

Most of these girls were rich and actually really nice despite what people stereotype “popular girls” to be. The person that comes to mind is your friend Felicity. She’s probably the one you would call your “top tier bestie”, the girl that constantly came over to your house when you were a teenager (annoying your brother immensely), the girl that called you like every single day you were away to college since you two went to different ones. She was super duper excited when you called her, telling her how you were gonna be in town for a few weeks.

Of course she had plans for you two to go to the spa and then go to the beach and blah blah blah. It would be nice to get out of the house every once in a while to catch up since Sam's gonna be in school most of the time. You put your laptop down on your bed and was about to sit down before you heard your mom yell for you from the kitchen.

“Hey sweetie, can you come down and help me?”

“Oh– Coming Mom!” You quickly got up and left your room, heading downstairs. You couldn’t help but look forward to the next few upcoming weeks, knowing it’ll be the most eventful and actually fun thing you’ve done in months. 

[topazadine]

Let's do another spicy writing take, one that is going to get a lot of people very mad. However, please note that I am saying this out of love and concern. This is not an attack on you personally or on your writing process.

Take a deep breath, prepare to listen with an open mind. Alright. Here goes:

Stop starting a million WIPs.

I am serious. Please. Do not do that. Do not start a million WIPs.

Why? Because then you won't get any of them done. And why is that? Because you'll lose motivation, get distracted, and hop on to the next thing, leaving a trail of heartbreak in your wake.

I have 131 stories on Archive of Our Own and have written over 2 million words of fiction. Two. Million. Words.

Don't believe me? Look.

And then there's more that is not accounted for here: a 110k novel, another 109k novel, and a 20k novelette, along with my current WIP which is currently around 10k. All told, I have written approximately 2,084,000 words.

Are they all perfect? No, of course not, especially the older stuff. But is it done? Yep.

And I did that by doing each project one at a time.

If I get another story idea while I'm in the middle of another story, I write a note in my WIP list, but I don't start it. Only when I'm letting a story "rest" before editing do I start outlining another book, but I still don't start. I wait until I've finished one entire project before I do another one.

Your brain does not actually multitask. Our brains aren't wired to do that. This article from Forbes explains:

You are highly unlikely to be part of that 2.5% even if you think you are. I'm not, and you're probably not either.

What you are really doing is task switching. Take it from the software management program Asana:

That article from Forbes elaborates:

And it is even worse when you are hopping from one WIP to another, essentially changing contexts.

Pleexy, another task automation company, continues by discussing 'context switching':

Every time you stop working on one WIP, you are switching contexts and pulling yourself out of the world you have created, jumping into another. Now your brain is struggling to reorient itself, and it's not going to do its best work.

"But I love writing different WIPs and I get some of them done!"

I am sure you do, but is it your best effort? Would you have been able to write faster, more coherently, better, if you had only worked on one? Probably. And don't you want to do your best?

"But I have ideas and if I don't do them right now I'll forget them!!!"

Then write them down. I have a whole WIP list of things I am intending to write later. Make a notepad document, a spreadsheet, whatever, for your different WIPs.

When you think of something interesting for that project, put down a small note underneath it, but don't start writing! Your brain will let it marinate and when you're done with your current project, you'll have a better idea of what to do with it.

I like to visualize things before bed, so a lot of the time, I will use that visualization for a different project as my way to calm down, but I'm not devoting too much attention to it before I'm ready to work. I've got some scenes and images that I have daydreamed about, but I haven't drawn attention away from my current WIP by actually beginning to write.

This way, I can devote all of my brainpower to my current project while reserving a little bit of attention and aspiration for the next one. I also avoid writer's block because I have my next WIP lined up, waiting for me, and I can transition to it almost immediately.

Generally, I don't go more than a few days without starting a new project (after completing one!!!!!) because I am prepared for it: I can give it my full attention. There's no sitting around and waiting for inspiration.

"But I have so much inspiration for this project and want to start right away!"

Something I am learning as a writer is delayed gratification. I am an impulsive person and I want to jump into things right away, but then I get disappointed with the results. For example, I released 9 Years Yearning before commissioning a really good cover. I regret that and I'm going to learn from that mistake with the next book in The Eirenic Verses.

By waiting, you get a better payoff.

I've got four different projects waiting to be released and one waiting for serious revisions. They are all finished, but they're not polished. It would be very easy for me to spend a few hours formatting them and then just throw them up, but I won't get the best payoff then.

Instead, I'll wait for a break between projects before turning back to them and fixing them up, giving them all my attention. Yes, it means I don't release a billion books a year, but it also means I release my best work.

Writing is not a sprint; it's a marathon. It's okay to give your projects a break.

By letting my stories rest, sometimes for entire months, I can come back to them with fresh eyes and make sure they're perfect. The same is true of your WIPs. Let them sit and marinate for a while.

How to avoid having a billion WIPs:

Make a list of future WIPs. Put it in one document. Add things as you think about them.

Put this list of WIPs away and ignore it.

Allow yourself to get some writer's block if you're struggling with your current project. Writer's block is okay sometimes. Don't use writer's block as permission to start something else.

Put reminders up that tell you not to start things. I like the phrase "bird by bird" which I got from the eponymous book by Anne Lamott (which is really good writing advice).

Read up on task switching and the myth of multitasking to show why having a million WIPs doesn't work.

Interrogate yourself. When you have a bunch of WIPs, do you actually get any of them done? Be realistic and ruthless with yourself.

Look back at how many WIPs you have in storage. Identify your WIP completion rate. It's probably lower than you think.

Read about the writing habits of other writers. You'll find most successful writers do not have a ton of different projects at once. They also go one at a time.

"No I'm going to write a million WIPs anyway! You don't know me!"

Okay, then go for it. You're not obligated to take my advice. I can only tell you that the science - and my personal experience - says that's not a good idea.

Ultimately, it doesn't really matter to me if you continue to stop and start a gazillion different projects and get none of them done. That's your problem, not mine.

But I'd rather you be able to finish something you're proud of, because then you're growing as a writer, and I always encourage personal growth.

It honestly makes me sad when people go "teehee I have soooo many WIPs and I just started another one hehehe!" because I know, without a doubt, that almost none of them will see the light of day.

You deserve better than a bunch of unfinished projects. You can achieve more than that. Put down the WIP list, focus on your current story, and go for it.

[scarlett-v-the-fox]

WarioWare Move It! Japanese profile entires part 1

As of today, there are only a few profiles of the characters. These are Wario, Jimmy T, Mona, Ashley, Red, Dr. Crygor, Mike, and Penny. I am sharing what they say to you in English.

Disclaimer: My Japanese isn’t perfect, and I had to look up some of words used. But I’m confident 95% of this is correct!

President of the very great Wario Company

WARIO

CV: Hironori Kondo

(Translator’s notes: Wario uses the first person pronoun “ore” and uses the suffix “sama” after it.)

[Image of Wario in front a pile of gold] Today is also a great day! I'm cool, intelligent, and handsome!

WAHAHAHA! You had a good idea that you were interested in me! Take a close look at me from my head to my butt!

This is my profile!!

Favorite letter of the alphabet:

W

Most hated letter of the alphabet:

M

Charm point:

You’ll know it when you see it! Everything!

What made me happy recently:

I went to scrub myself today, and what a surprise! I lost 20 kilograms! That’s amazing!

What surprised me recently:

There was a type of canned food that I thought was delicious and became addicted to, but when I looked closer, it turned out to be for dogs! I got angry!

Things I am not good at:

Nothing! I am perfect!

Recommended movies:

There’s “The Wario Movie” starring me! ...Hmm? There’s no such movie? Hey Nintendo! Make it quickly!

Favorite proverb:

Be on the toilet bowl for three months.

Future aspirations:

Hey! That's enough! That's it for my profile!

~

Energetic high school girl

MONA

CV: Ruriko Aoki

(Translator’s notes: Mona uses the first person pronoun “atashi.” She also uses the “ojisama” suffix for Wario and Dr. Crygor.)

[Image of Mona in a city with her pets in the background] Isn’t Wario wonderful!? That nose and mustache!

Hi~! I’m Mona! I'm busy with my part-time job and club activities every day, but I'm going to run through it with high energy today too!

Profile:

My dream for the future:

To become an adventurer!

Person I admire:

I guess I’d say Wario after all! That big and wild nose… super awesome!

Transportation:

[Image of Mona’s bike. Below it reads “Mona Bike!”] Dr. Crygor made it for me!

Part time jobs I’ve done:

I've done a lot of things! I was a gelato shop clerk, a diner waitress, a pizza delivery girl, a rock band's vocalist and guitarist, a Chinese restaurant's poster girl, an amusement park staff member, a reporter, a cameraman, and even a spy... Oops, maybe I shouldn't have said this? [picture of strawberry gelato]

Family:

My papa is an artist and my mama is a supermodel! I'm an only child, but I wish I had an older sister.

My favorite animal:

Baby moth larvae with fluffy fur!

What I’ve been into lately:

I keep an observation record of the flowers I saw today! I like that they’re bumpy, hairy, and shiny!

Introduction from the president (Wario):

Mona thinks I'm cool, and I'm a guy with quite good taste! …however! As an adventurer, she’s not even close to my level! Even if she finds treasure, it's mine, of course! Because the president is amazing! Wahahaha!

~

Cool dancer

JIMMY T.

CV: Yuma Kametani

(Translator’s notes: Jimmy uses a lot of English words. He also uses the first person pronoun “boku.”)

[Image of Jimmy on a lit up dance floor] Oh YEAH~!! Let’s dance together until the morning, YO!

Everybody! I’m glad you came to visit my page, YO! Let's get feverish with COOL steps!

Profile:

How to spend the night:

Dancing until the morning at a nightclub, YO! [Image of Jimmy P]

Hobby:

Checking my emails! YEAH!

Special skill:

I might be second to none when it comes to high-speed flick input on smartphones.

A little boast:

For some reason, cats tend to like me, YO!

Relationship with Wario:

He’s my email friend! We are also childhood friends!

Favorite way to spend my weekends:

Watching the pigeons in the park, YO! And those kids there have some pretty good BEAT and VIBES, YO!

A secret I’ll only share here:

Actually, my afro, well… No, it’s nothing. Forget it.

Introduction from the president (Wario):

Jimmy is my e-mail friend and childhood friend! He teaches me how to make money with blogs like “Afro Eight” and is a very helpful guy! That's why I made him a special employee of the company, but I’ve never paid him a salary! Wahahaha!

~

Apprentice witch

ASHLEY

CV: Ayaka Fukuhara

(Translator’s notes: She speaks using third person in Japanese at times.)

[Image of Ashley with a mansion in the background] …I’m Ashley, the world’s witch.

…I’m Ashley… What do you want? …If I don’t have any use for you, can I use you as an ingredient?

Profile:

Hobby:

…Research on cursed magic.

Specialty:

…To make magic and potions.

What I think is cool:

…Monsters and carnivorous plants.

Things I don’t like:

Cute dresses… sweets… colorful things… I hate them.

Eating style:

…I eat what I like for last.

What I want most right now:

…Frie—… Nothing really.

How many times have you been called cute?:

Tsk…

Introduction from the president (Wario):

Ashley is always with her familiar, Red! She may be a bit perverse, but she's actually lonely!? Since she's an employee of the Wario Company, I'll take care of her! Looks like she can use magic to find treasure! Wahahaha!

~

Ashley’s partner

RED

CV: Mako Muto

(Translator’s notes: Red uses Kansai dialect, and uses the first person pronoun “ore.” He also talks like a kid.)

[Image of Red with Ashley in the background] Alright! Leave the transforming to me!

Yahoo! I am Red! I am Ashley’s partner, as well as her best friend! You came all the way to visit us, so take your time!

Profile:

Where I live:

In a haunted mansion on the edge of town! But I'm actually really scared of this place...

Special skill:

I can transform into something about the same size as me! Like a magic wand or broom! It’s amazing, isn’t it?!

Personality:

I am quite skittish…

What scared me recently:

When I saw my own reflection in the mirror, I freaked out… Eep…

What I think about Ashley:

Ah, it looks like she’s really shy. She remembered her parents from back home and looked into the distance.

Recent thing Ashley did:

She was practicing smiling in front of the mirror the other day! She was so scared! Ah, this is definitely a secret I should keep!

The scariest thing in this world:

Ashley when she’s angry…

Introduction from the president (Wario):

Even though Red is a monster, he's still taking care of Ashley! And I don't know where he learned to speak Kansai dialect! ...That means he might have some talent for business! Okay, me. Let's sell your game all over the world! Of course, we won't give him any rewards! Wahahaha!

~

Mad scientist

DR. CRYGOR

CV: Kensuke Matsui

(Translator’s notes: A gappori machine is a machine that gives loans in cash)

[Image of Dr. Crygor in a green lit laboratory] People call me a genius scientist... And I am actually a genius!

Here... it seems like you got lost on my page. This must also have something to do with me. Could you let me use your body as a test subject?

Profile:

Occupation:

I am a genius scientist that everyone recognizes.

Someone you hang out with often:

My granddaughter Penny, and my assistant Mike.

Hobby:

Dancing flamenco for inspiration.

My secret to youth:

Modifying my own body and wearing a life-prolonging suit. However, I forgot to extend the life of my scalp and ended up going bald.

Recent research:

I am devoting all my energy and research into promoting my hair regrowth.

Representative inventions:

Wario’s Bike, Wario’s Car, Mona’s Bike, Dribble’s Taxi, Kat and Ana's high-tech swords, 9-Volt's skateboard, Jimmy's cell phone, the Karaoke Robot Mike... You can see how genius I am.

About Wario:

I see him as an interesting research subject. I shall do some human experiments on him someday.

Introduction from the president (Wario):

Dr. Crygor is an old man, but he seems to be doing well! He is also the inventor of my Wario Car and my Wario Bike! But it's disgusting that he’s still bragging about that! ...Well, whatever. Someday, I'll have him make a gappori machine that will give me an infinite amount of money! Wahahaha!

~

Karaoke robot

MIKE

CV: Ryota Suzuki

(Translator’s notes: Robot characters use katakana in their visualized speech. They are also polite and use simple sentences.)

[Image of Mike in a room full of viles] I want to sing more and more!

I’m the karaoke robot Mike! What do you think, would you like to sing a song after?

My profile, lyrics and music by Mike:

Creator:

I was created by Dr Crygor.

Body structure:

I have microphones on my head and speakers on my body.

Hobbies:

I like cooking! My fruit punch is very good.

Special skill:

Karaoke, obviously. But for some reason, when I start singing, everyone covers their ears.

My dissatisfaction:

Why does the karaoke robot have to do all the cleaning?

A secret I’ll share only here:

I want to be independent.

Things I’ve been curious about lately:

Those meal serving robots for family restaurants...

Introduction from the president (Wario):

Mike is Dr. Crygor’s assistant! He seems to be good at cooking and doing the laundry, but he seems to have run away from home in disgust once! If he's going to be used badly, he'd be happier being used by me! Next time you run away from home, I’ll use you as my butt wiper! Wahahaha!

~

Future scientist

PENNY

CV: Maya Enokichi

(Translator’s notes: Penny uses the “chan” suffix for her grandpa. She also uses the term “scientist’s egg” which just means she’s a future scientist)

[Image of Penny in a park] My dream is to become the best singing idol scientist in the world!

Hello, nice to meet you! My name is Penny! My grandpa is a fantastic scientist!

Profile:

Occupation:

I’m a Diamond City junior high school student! I’m also a future scientist!

Someone I admire:

Dr. Crygor! He’s my grandpa!

Hobby:

I love singing in front of people! I wish I could be a singer...

My invention masterpiece:

"Sparkly Voice Ultimate" allows anyone to have a beautiful voice!

Things I’m not good at:

Actually, I'm not good at reading music sheets... just looking at the treble clef makes me dizzy...

About my hair accessory:

You can take the heart-shaped hair clip I'm wearing!

A secret I’ll share only here:

I've been checking all the information about idol auditions, but I'm scared. I haven't been able to apply yet...

Introduction from the president (Wario):

Penny is Dr Crygor’s granddaughter! She's a future scientist, but for some reason the minibike she sent to me ended up turning into a mini-mini myself while riding it! What on earth does that mean!? Well, she also has a geeky side. However, if she comes up with an invention that will make money, I will make a lot of money! Wahahaha!

[studentbyday]

{ 05.11.24 } · { 50 days of routine } · { day 7 }

I was never “popular” at school. Not that I ever cared to be. I don't have the personality for it. And I don't really care to have the personality for it either. I'm not and never will be That Girl™ material, a “high-value woman”, or whatever feminine persona is trendy on TikTok these days (and i'm not even ON TikTok, but ofc the trends spread everywhere like wildfire) because I don't look the part (nor do I want to...i quite like my personal style) or think or speak or act the way she would if it goes against my values and/or it won't actually improve my wellbeing. I say I don't care. And I really truly don't because a lot of it and what it leads to is straight-up problematic for my personal case, running counter to the life I want to live and all my reasons why. But as with anything, being yourself has its pros and cons.

Sometimes I still feel like it's hard to truly belong anywhere...even the places I make for myself like this blog... Sometimes when I feel like this, I feel like the only place I most belong is in my head. It's not good. That's not where I need to be, nor do I need to be much concerned about trends on social media and what drives people to follow them. And I certainly don't need to compare myself to anyone else. I need to be in the real world and focused on my work only because I think it's worth it and because I think I'm worth it as I am.

I'm not sure why I felt like saying this.

~~~Friendly PSA: STOP 🖐🏻 scrolling social media of any kind when feeling low in self-esteem.~~~

got up at 7, continued filling in the CBT workbook then decided to move my answers elsewhere because the annotating feature in the ebook app is getting annoying, started my day at 8 with the usual minimalist morning routine

10/30 mins of the same beginner pilates workout i did a few days ago except i forgot to breathe and ended up so light-headed i couldn't go anymore...

filling in CBT workbook because i can't get the reflection questions out of my head until i answer them... 😣 so far, nothing new has been revealed to me, but in the busy-ness of the day-to-day, i tend to neglect ALL the other dimensions of my life and then forget that that's why i feel so shitty and the problem is the self-prompted reflection i tend to do at this time carries a lot of negativity and pessimism and comparison and judgment and it's not very organized, it's actually not organized at all, it's always just a word vomit. but when i do it now, with the tone of the categorized prompts not being judgy at all, i'm able to look at my problems more objectively and holistically and like "oh okay, i'm not doing as bad in this dimension as i thought and the REAL problem is this other dimension of life and all the specific things you mention are lacking here" and idk, sometimes i think it's weird that my brain works this way, it's like i was looking at the same picture the entire time and all i had to do was turn it a bit to the left for it to make sense. is this how brains normally work? 😅

finished last week's microbio module

researching for global health assignment...will begin writing tmr 😅👍

finished section 1/2 of last week's immunology module and started the loooong second section 🥴👍

🎧 some nights – fun.

@zzzzzestforlife tagged me to do this picrew! it was fun. and it's so coincidental that i've been thinking about ghosts lately! the past versions of us that we follow without question when they tell us what to do, what not to do, and what we should aspire for... ☁️ sometimes those ghosts are right...and sometimes they're just plain toxic.

tagging @whenmemoriesfrost @chemblrish @ecologie-txt @winryrockbellwannabe @obakanosandoitchi if you want to :)

[bonefall]

Struggling to find posts u've made in the past about Stoneclaw, but I love her sm. Definitely one of my BB Blorbos

I don't think I've ever put together a particular thingie on her, she's a beloved background character who tends to show up on her own in various places. Like when I talked about sign, before making the deafness guide!

BB!Stoneclaw is a gray-and-gold tortie, and the sister of Thrushwing. They come from one of the field guides, where it's revealed the two of them were sitting their vigil on the night that ShadowClan drove WindClan out of their home. In canon, Thrushwing is the survivor, but for BB, we all just kinda liked Stoneclaw's name more than Thrushwing's, so I decided to hit him with the Woman Beam.

On the night of the WindClan Massacre, Stoneclaw and Thrushwing were sitting vigil.

Daughters of Flytail and Eagleswoop, and grandkits of Tallstar himself. They were a promising young pair.

Before they even knew what hit them, they heard Brokenstar's yowl.

A squadron burst from the shadows, sliced Thrushwing's throat open, and smashed Stoneclaw's head to the ground

ShadowClan wasn't showing mercy, survivors were incidental. Their goal was to kill as many cats as possible.

Stoneclaw was dazed for a few seconds, going limp, but when she came to she leapt right back into the fray. She watched the rest of her family fold.

Tangleburr and her squadron went right for her father, Flytail, out of revenge for Lizardstripe, mobbing him and pulling him down

Eagleswoop just had a stroke of bad luck, failed to dodge, and was killed like prey

It was a horrific night, and what was once a large family was decimated to a couple of cats. She lost auncles, both parents, and her sister in one fell swoop.

Injured and aching, Stoneclaw said nothing as WindClan escaped the scene. The other survivors took it as a sign of great honor from the young warrior; that she had upheld her vow to the bitter end, even after losing so much.

But it lasted long after that night. The vigil has never truly 'ended' in her mind, so her vow of silence hasn't either.

Unfortunately, WindClan gets rough shake after rough shake from this point on, and she barely has a chance to heal in the constant barrage of violence and aggression. Between Nightstar's invasion, TigerClan, the BloodClan battle, the destruction of the White Hart woods, the Great Journey, and the Civil War... things only really started settling down years into her life, during Po3.

During the Civil War, Stoneclaw was actually ideologically aligned with Mudclaw, but took Onestar's side. She wanted to believe that Tallstar was lied to, but... she knew her grandfather better than anyone. Once the shock wore off, she had to face the horrible truth that he made a sudden, naiive decision.

It didn't take her long to stop regretting her choice, though. Her feelings are complicated, but her line too far is Mudclaw's willingness to attack his Clanmates.

Had she taken his side, she would have gone into battle with her future mate as a target. She doesn't think about it-- dismissing that she ever could have made such a choice.

Her internal monologue is a lot more afraid, frustrated, and exhausted than other cats would guess it is. Her actions don't match her thoughts.

She's hardworking, always trying to make her Clanmates comfortable, frets over her friends and family endlessly. Pair this with WindClan's assumption that her selective mutism is a "vow of silence," and most cats see her as an "ideal warrior." Someone kits should look up to and aspire to be.

She got into a relationship with Snapstorm waaaay too quickly; but luckily, Snapstorm is a really good mate.

After everything she'd been through, Snapstorm's cheerful, easygoing attitude was soothing and attractive. Snapstorm just had to say, "Hi Stoneclaw! Mice to see you around!" and then hand her a mouse for lunch and it was all over

Snapstorm was a BloodClan trader who joined along with Brushblaze, and one of the targets of the Civil War. She's a bit flighty and doesn't always think through everything she says, and doesn't worry about much either.

Their oldest kit is Buzzardclaw, who takes after Snapstorm a lot. So far I also gave them Crouchfoot in a later litter, but I've been thinking about giving them a bunch more.

The oldest litter was definitely accidental.

But not unwelcome. They both responded to it enthusiastically, Stoneclaw because she suddenly felt like she would have a big family again, and Snapstorm because she loves kids and just wanted to be a parent one day.

As mentioned before, they got into their mateship very quickly. They made each other happy and that's the whole reason.

Unfortunately, they would start seeing the difficulties of their personalities clashing while raising kittens. Which I just find FASCINATING which is honestly kinda why I want to throw more kits at them (not to mention how small WindClan is, padding is super appreciated)

See, Stoneclaw is dealing from serious CPTSD. Her mutism is NOT a vow. She can't speak and it's frustrating to her.

At the same time, watching the very helpful tail-signals that WindClan uses to communicate across the distant moor reminds her of battle signals, like she had to deal with during the fights with TigerClan. It's triggering, and that's ALSO stressful.

She's also lost so, so much of her family within the span of a few years, and is dealing with attachment issues as a result. Especially to that first litter, which she would be terrified of losing.

This makes an individual who can't communicate, but is desperate to. She hasn't been able to work well in groups for years, and unlike a more solitary cat like Willowclaw, this is not the result of a choice.

Snapstorm, being an outsider, is the first and only cat to not treat her behavior like... well, some kind of solemn vow to be "respected."

And that means a lot to Stoneclaw. Even if she was poetic, these are complicated feelings which would be hard to describe.

And Snapstorm is a sweetheart, but, she is putting a lot of effort into this relationship. She's not really great at focusing on one thing for too long, and a bit "forgetful" in the way that details go missing for a while until they come back later.

So sometimes an important bit of info slips her mind, or she misses a social cue and makes a joke that's a bit gruesome, or the fact that Clanmew is her second language rears up and she forgets words or translates a Townmew idiom directly and it Does Not Work.

While all this is happening, especially with the early litter, Stoneclaw is being a helicopter parent. Too worried to give her kits the freedom they need to develop, and Snapstorm is both trying to be a good parent and a good mate.

I'm fond of the idea that when Buzzardkit was very little, Stoneclaw was the Mi. But as she started to realize that her fear of losing him was hurting both of them, Snapstorm started taking over as Mi.

I think their dynamic is interesting. I like the idea of each litter ending up having a different upbringing, because of the state of their parents each time. Stone's also going to be sticking around for a very long time; definitely the last survivor of the WindClan Massacre, by many years. It's nice to think she's eventually surrounded by kits and grandkits, growing up in a better world than she did, even if it's not without its problems.

She's also going to start using Pawspeak, being one of its foundational members after developing a little friendship with SkyClan's Fallowfern. It's cathartic to her, finally feeling like there's a new context for WindClan's old tail signs, being used to communicate in a language rather than just be used for battle and hunting.

Stoneclaw is one of my personal little BB blorbos that I think about a lot. It's fun having conflicts like this going on in the background.

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Mr. Chicken

Debut: Rhythm Heaven Megamix

The year is unknown. The world as we know it is unrecognizable. Ocean now covers nearly all of the planet's surface, and the remaining landmasses jut sharply upward, connected only by brittle stone bridges, if anything. And yet, despite all this...

This chicken bought himself an electric car, and he's ready to take it for a ride!

Mr. Chicken is the star of Charging Chicken, which is a game of chicken! You know, like, trying to get as close as possible to something without going over? I don't actually know why that's called chicken. Hold on, I have to look something up.

Ah! It is called that because the original game of chicken involved two drivers driving right toward each other, where one or both must swerve away, or risk crashing. If only one swerves, that driver is the Chicken, in the "coward" sense of the word. I would not call avoiding a car crash cowardly, but I cannot speak for people who would intentionally drive toward each other in cars! This does not help the reputation of the humble chicken.

Thankfully, Mr. Chicken is not driving into head-on traffic. Unfortunately, he is driving toward a landmass only a few feet wide, with a drop straight down into the ocean on the other side. Why is he doing this? Is he stupid? Yeah, I think so.

I don't know if Mr. Chicken is a terrible driver, his car is terribly designed, or both! The moment it finishes charging, it immediately zooms straight at full speed, so either it drives recklessly on its own until it runs out of fuel, or this chicken has the gas pedal slammed down to the floor at ALL times. I would not put it past him.

All this is bad enough, and that's without even mentioning that chickens barely have any depth perception! That's why they (and other prey birds) bob their heads while they walk- the things that they see will appear to move at different speeds depending on how far from the eyes they are! Delightfully, Mr. Chicken DOES indeed bob his head rapidly while driving, so at least he's trying, I guess. But if there is anything you take from this post, I hope it is that a chicken would not be good at driving a car.

Nevertheless, THIS chicken has his driver's license, somehow. And we get to hear his own thoughts about it!

"I've been driving for almost three years now. I get pulled over all the time, and I keep expecting a police officer to comment on my license picture--I look so good!"

I am happy he is proud of his photo. I'm sure it looks great, I always love looking at a photo of a chicken. I even included one in this post! They are so fun to look at. But getting pulled over all the time? I am disappointed in him! I don't feel comfortable with such a reckless driver on the road! If only he would change his ways, but that is surely too much to expect...

"When my safe driving record got me the gold driver's license, I asked if I could keep my same picture. It's such a cute picture of me!"

Wow! He changed his ways, despite me not having faith in him! It turns out even a digital chicken has the capacity to change. I am proud of him! This is now a chicken who all drivers should aspire to be like, in terms of both safety and self-love!

The non-Japanese versions of the game feature this, quite frankly, sick mural of Mr. Chicken and his car at the end of Machine Remix! I don't think this is his own garage, since there is a whole Car Guy character that this stage is hosted by, so maybe he's a beloved customer, and became a sort of mascot. He probably crashes enough cars to keep a repair shop in business!

There is even more to Mr. Chicken but I don't feel like writing anymore! Check out this official comic if you want to see some rooster heterosexuality.

[phopollo]

Tell us about the other characters in Rusty and GB's photos!

TEEHEE IM SO GLSD YOU ASKED (this is going to be a long post)

Also just for anyone who's curious about the mentioned photos becsuse you may have missed the post, fear not, you can just check it out right here 👍

So!! Let's start with Rusty's photo! I think it's pretty clear thst we've got Rusty in the center there, little baby man style, just a little guy-- but of course, he's not the only one there-- so let's talk about Rusty's little parental polycule!

To his left is Momma!

A bit younger than she's appearing in the actual rest of the story, but there she is! Momma is pretty much the same as the musical version-- previous world champion racer, retired in her old age, etc etc

Above Rusty though, is Poppa! That's right, I say both Momma and Poppa rights for Rusty

Poppa is a steam engine switcher like Rusty. He ran a few races back in his younger days, but he never really won any-- and while he's about the age that he really probably should be retiring, he's still working hard!

And then to Rusty's right is Memphis!

Alternatively, the original Belle! I've decided to use just Memphis, since there 2024 Belle already, and I wasn't planning any connection between them, so making them Jr/Sr just didn't feel right. Memphis has a roughly similar story to her canon one as well! She's an old sleeping car who used to race with Momma, and was even her coach for many of Momma's years as champion!

It may not be as obvious because he calls her by name, but Memphis is absolutely also one of Rusty's parents! Unfortunately, they as a family got separated when Poppa and Memphis got assigned to another station/train yard when Rusty was younger-- it's been maybe a whole decade at this point. Rusty will always volunteer to bring something to the other station when they send requests for help though, just for the opportunity to see his other two parents

So then! Now let's talk about Greaseball's family photo!

In case it wasn't entirely clear, because I used the like.... draft version of her wig; on the left is Junior!

This one's our little baby girlball! She is not having a good time :(

On the right is Virtuoso!

Lowkey, kinda just made him up, because Greaseball strikes me as having really complicated family relationships. They're kind of age gap siblings, they never really had anything in common aside from their father's racing desires for them, and admittedly, in what turned out to be a golden child/black sheep situation, Virtuoso was very much the black sheep. He is very much what I'd consider as a "season 2" kind of character-- one mentioned a couple times or that you visually see the photo of some time during season 1 (shortly before the events of the musical through Rusty becoming the champion), but you wouldn't actually hear about or meet him until season 2

And then finally, in the middle, we've got Senior

Everyone say hello Greaseball Senior, who's inspiration came from the very first iteration of Greaseball. He sustained a pretty serious injury pretty early on in his racing career, leaving him unable to get up to speeds to keep up with those around him. And while he could still work, he wasn't satisfied with that-- as a result, he ended uo pushiny his dreams and aspirations of racing on his kids pretty hard

As I mentioned earlier, the family dynamic and relationships are kind of.... rocky, to put it politely. Virtuoso is completely out of the picture at this point, and I definitely wouldn't say Jr and Sr get along. Jr will go out of her way to avoid him, but Sr keeps going out of his way to track her down because of the vicarious glory of being her, the current reigning world champion's, dad. Admittedly, Jr's view of family and what family is supposed to be is a little messed up because of all of this