#Mindset Changing Trainer

[englandcoaching]

Embrace Movement for a Healthier, Happier You!

  If you have ben following my blog you’ll find I’m very pro-movement. Not only because It has helped myself and the thousands of individuals I’ve helped take back their life through pain, injury, and physical limitations; but because there’s global research that also backs up this seemingly “magic health supplement” called exercise. I have attached previous writing linked with additional…

[orcinus-veterinarius]

Learning anything about marine mammal training will make you re-evaluate so much of your relationship with your own pets. There is so much force involved in the way we handle domestic animals. Most of it isn’t even intentional, it just stems from impatience. I’m guilty of it myself!

But with the exception of certain veterinary settings where the animal’s health is the immediate priority, why is it so important to us that animals do exactly what we want exactly when we want it? Why do we have to invent all these tools and contraptions to force them to behave?

When a whale swam away from a session, that was that. The trainer just waited for them to decide to come back. If they flat out refused to participate in behaviors, they still got their allotment of fish. Nothing bad happened. Not even when 20-30 people were assembled for a procedure, and the whale chose not to enter the medical pool. No big deal. Their choice and comfort were prioritized over human convenience.

It’s almost shocking to return to domestic animal medicine afterwards and watch owners use shock collars and chokers and whips to control their animals. It’s no wonder that positive reinforcement was pioneered by marine mammal trainers. When you literally can’t force an animal to do what you want, it changes your entire perspective.

I want to see that mindset extended to our domestic animals.

[s0fter-sin]

ex military ghost seeing gym rat soap flex in the gym mirrors and being concerned by how visually dehydrated and unhealthily cut he is

(cw disordered working out and implied unspecified ed)

ghost whose body is soft with fat, covering a soldier's build; he's stronger than every man in this gym and none of them would know. the culture’s shifted away from working muscle and strength, from health, and he’s known that for a while. but something about this one, the almost desperation he sweats with as he crosses pb after pb, holds his attention

he changes his workout hours to line up with his, changes his circuits until they’re on the same row of machines and uses the shared interest in weight training to introduce himself. he almost cringes as he does it but soap doesn’t hit him with the typical bro energy he’s gotten used to in gyms; he meets him with a smile, doesn’t try to crush his hand as he shakes it, even offers a spare hand towel to wipe himself off with

he’s nice, truly and genuinely nice and ghost hates that he’s gotten caught up in the swell of toxic self-hatred sweeping through his generation

he offers to be soap's spotter, getting him settled under the bar and though he gives him an odd look for it, follows his nudges to get his shoulders in a better position. he does the same to his wrists and elbows - it’s like he was never taught how to lift, just watched similarly untrained men and tried to emulate their movements - and sees how much he's lifting as he stands ready to catch the bar

all he can think of is how much more he could be doing if he just took care of his body instead of starving it

his body’s screaming for it; for fats and full sugars and salts and carbs, no matter how many supplement drinks he slings back throughout his set, and when he invites him out later, his near-empty plate stands out starkly next to ghost’s full one

as they get closer, he sees the "trainers" soap idolises; the sets it’s clear they don’t follow and the regimes based on nothing at best and damaging pseudoscience at worst. he sees the starved bodies and the borderline dangerous ways they lift and move because they never bothered to learn how; they just wanted the results

at any cost

every single one of them promoting unhealthy behaviour and so obviously taking steroids besides, no matter how much they deny it. but no matter how much ghost tries to point it out, tries to clear the wool from his eyes, soap just doesn't believe him

(can’t believe him. he can’t believe that he can't achieve it, that he can't just do more, be better; it has to be his fault he doesn't look like them no matter how hard he tries)

just ghost trying to lead soap back to a healthy mindset when it comes to body image and working out and getting him to realise he’s unthinkingly using it as a way to hurt himself instead of feeling good in himself the way he used to

[sashiavi]

✧˚·.SashiAvi's Kinktober Day Five.·˚✧

#5|Stuck/Stuckage|#5

Alex x Reader - Word Count - 3.3k

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Now. How exactly did you end up here? – Stuck half-in the cubed lockbox attached to the bottom of the bath house lockers, the metal snug around your shoulders in your attempt to reach, your knees bent into a crawl and aching in protest as they press against the cold tile floor of the locker room.

Well. It starts with one of your regular sessions with Alex at the bathhouse, the man taking up the impromptu role of a personal trainer, guiding you through the wonders of working out.

Farmwork was a tricky business, it made sense to build up your body for your own sake, avoiding any long lingering aches and pains. All it took was your own questioning about the weight set in his room before the man was dragging you up to the gym residing in the facility. 

He prided himself on his physicality - That mindset bordering on toxic positivity - Rise and grind.. Or something. Truthfully the way he managed to slurp down a whole raw egg was a sight to see, and usually one you cared not to view. But his passion was endearing, cute even, a sparkle twinkling in his eye at the premise of having a buddy to work out with. You weren’t entirely sure of how exactly you felt about the man.

Was he cute? Handsome? Charming? Just how much did you like him.. What kind of like even was it? In another world, he seemed like the stereotypical jock type. Uncaring and maybe even cruel. Giving no attention to anyone outside of his own circle. 

But that wasn't him at all, was it? Considerate and willing to help, gentle despite the thick muscles adorned on his body.

You arrived together as you usually did, splitting up at the door before you entered into the designated locker rooms, changing clothes, prepping yourself all ready to meet up in the middle on the other side, like clockwork. Except there's no squeak of your gym shoes against the tile, a lack of kinetic vibrance that Alex was rather quick to notice.

You weren't there.

Instead, he hears a yelp and a swear of profanity, breaking his concentration from the flex of his muscles in the mirror, your voice calling from the other side of the wall. He hears you groan, muffled and echoed, bouncing around, grating like metal. Cogs work in his brain, churning and turning with curiosity. He shouldn't.. Should he? Alex doesn't think for much longer before he makes way for the ladies' locker room, easily entering through the cut-out entrance. Something right in the very back of his mind chirps at him, about decency and maybe the implications of a man waltzing into a private space like this- But, call him concerned.

You hear Alex’s footsteps, a little squeaky, the grip on the bottom of his shoes catching on to the slick tile with every push of his feet. You wiggle and squirm, cursing the manufacturers of the locker, fighting the stinging scream of your shoulders at your attempt to pull yourself out. You did not, in fact, fit in the square hole. 

Yoba, you were embarrassed, trapped within the confines of the cubic space, face down ass up with nowhere to run, as if you were stuck in some kind of cheap porn script written by some lazy author. 

God, at least you were decent, gym shorts saving your dignity. You never meant to get stuck like this, obviously- But you couldn't help your water bottle taking a tumble to the floor and choosing to roll into one of the open lock boxes, you had to save the poor thing yourself. You just didn't expect the damned box to have so much depth to it, didn’t think you’d trap yourself inside, had at least a little faith that your limbs would squeeze and cooperate to get yourself free easy-peasy. You supposed the spirits were displeased today. Maybe even finding amusement at your pitiful predicament.

“Uhhh..” Alex’s voice drawls in an awkward, questioning hum, muffled through the rusted metal walls of the lockbox. You can imagine the look on his face, head quirked with a scrunch to his brow, those deep green eyes squinting in confusion. “What.. Are you doing?”

“Alex-!” You squirm, hissing at the ache in your joints, the hearty creak in your bones at your attempts to wiggle free. You must look like a fool. “Can you..- Can you help me?” You ask, a little timid in your tone, feeling your upper body starting to get clammy, hyperaware at just how tight the space really was.

Alex wasn't fairing much better.

His gaze locked on your rear, watching the cut legs of your cloth gym shorts ride up your thighs with all of that squirming, legs spread wide apart while you rested on your knees, back arched all the way down for your torso to fit into the small space. Your feet rest on your ankles, chunky sneakers with socks pulled up your calves, framing them with a subtle squish by the sock elastic, looking cute and sporty- If he looked hard enough, he's sure he can see the outline of lace hugging the supple swell of the mound of your-

“Alex.” You call out desperately, snapping the brunette out of his thoughts. “Please.” You’re begging on your hands and knees here – Literally.

“Right-! Right yeah..” He shuffles over, gulping a thick swallow of saliva that dared to pool up under his tongue, hands open and moving awkwardly, hovering over your form here, there and everywhere. Does he grab your hips? The curve of your waist? Press his warm and clammy palms into the thick of your thighs and drag you by your legs? “How..?” He feels stupid for asking.

“I don’t know, just.. Grab me?” You were short with him, frustrations bubbled up by nothing but your own predicament and the fact that you had managed to get yourself stuck like that.

Alex rests a hand on both of your hips, warm against your chilled bare hip bone, shirt risen up, hidden skin exposed to the cool, damp locker room air thanks to your squirming. His fingers were long, easily wrapping around and digging into the tender spot of your pelvis, giving a tender squeeze into it. Your body tenses up with a surprised jolt, a squeak chirped off of your lips and a scold right on the edge of your tongue.

You can only imagine the position, and Alex was lucky enough to see it; Crouched between your spread legs with an eye full of your behind, hands on your hips in such a compromising position, flooding his brain full of dirty, dirty ideas. There's a strain in his pants, the telltale pulse of blood gushing up into the plum-pink tip of his cock, pressing uncomfortably on the tight seam of his shorts. He feels the thick vein on his undershaft throb, raring to go with just a little touch to your body. 

“Do I just, like.. Pull?” Alex smacks his lips, trying to be useful, looking at the wall of the locker, trying to find a way out.

“I guess?” You shimmy again, squirmy in his hold, making his fingers twitch with the hot urge to hold you down and still. The more you shift the harder it is to think straight, watching and feeling your body move under him, at the mercy of him. He was in control right now. In control of you. 

“Okay..” He starts with a gentle tug, feeling out the tightness of your situation, trying to gently ease you from the confines of the space. He finds himself leaning over your body in some sort of attempt at getting the best grip on you, subsequently pressing his groin right into your ass. The thick press of his boner kissing a grind on your clothed cunt, urging up his own creak of a groan.

“Alex.. are you-?” Your eyes widen in the darkness, thighs tensing in a pitiful attempt to close and snap shut. You can't deny the heat of the situation, feeling awfully exposed and on display, not having a say in where his eyes land, where those hands touch, all dark and muffled inside the locker. You can’t stop the squeak of a noise you make, overwhelmed at the premise of Alex being on top of you-

Poor Alex. He honestly panics, tugging at you with a newfound gusto in an attempt to distract you, to free you. But he immediately regrets it, hearing you squeak and squeal, telling him to “wait wait wait-” huffing at the sting of metal uncooperative with your body. His hands feel like they’ve burnt you, seared into your skin- not to mention his little friend down there, saying a cheeky peek-a-boo against your supple, clothed folds.

The brunette feels a spike of adrenaline, a shock at the idea of actually causing some sort of hurt towards you, his hands slipping with his grip. 

It's honestly almost comical.

Feeling Alex's fingers hook into your waistband as he fumbles, yanking down your shorts in an easy motion, fully exposing everything you had to offer up hugged behind your half-off panties. The thin fabric of your underwear was the only thing keeping up any ounce of dignity you had left. You thought it couldn't get any worse? Well it has now.  

“Fuck- Shit sorry-” Alex cuts off with a sigh, seeing your shorts pool at the bend of your spread knees, your panties half off of your ass, showing off a peak of your goods, that darker line running down between your cheeks. He swallows again, his hand daring to find itself on your ass cheek, fingers spread and palm flat, shamelessly squishing in an inappropriate grope.

“A..Alex-” You warn, as if you weren't sinking your teeth into your tender bottom lip. He breathes your name back, veiny hands soothing and squishing, exploring over the expanse of your ass, down, down until he hits the drooled-up wet fabric poorly covering your pussy.

You should kick him- Shout and squirm and knock him off of his feet but- Yoba, his touch burned hot, coursing a warm pulse throbbing on the bud of your clit. “P..Please..” What were you begging for? God knows. But Alex snatches up what you put down for him.

He wastes no time, pulling down the elastic of your panties, letting them fall down your thighs, fabric stretching with the spread, nestling nice and pretty with your dangling shorts. You moan out a soft hum, eyes rolling back in the darkness, brain working in overdrive trying to paint the pretty picture. Arched beautifully for him, legs spread so wide, rendered useless in this position, right for him to hold on to, use as some kind of leverage for- Fuck.

You hear a hot spit of his lips and feel a fat glob of saliva land on your folds.

The brunette suckles on his own fingers, coating them up in a thick sheen over saliva, tongue swirling around his own digits at the sight of your bare and supple cunt. He had to get in you, needed it. Needed to feel the velvety wrap of your cunt on- Yoba, anything of his. 

He pops his fingers out with a vulgar wet noise, raking them through your drippy pussy lips, only adding to the dribbly wetness between your legs. Another spatter of saliva, thick, spitty and bubbly white, sliding down through your folds like a sweet teardrop. He breathes your name again, head cotton stuffed, barely asking you for permission before he was easily slipping in two of his fingers, knuckle deep right into the doughy swell of your hole.

“Fuck..” He’s a man of many words, clearly. Your slick pools against his knuckles, already forming a thick ring of cream around his fingers. He’s slow at first, marvelling at the way your pussy suckles him in, how warm and supple you were on his digits, so fucking soft against the rough calloused paw of his hand. In and out. In. And. Out. Carefully pushing two fingers into your cunt hole, twisting his wrist to dive them in, soft and slow with a thick curl at the end of his push.

You seem to gasp every time. Soft little noises sucked in and pushed out with each tender curl of his fingers. He can't help but watch in awe, jaw slack and lips parted, sun-kissed face burning into a blush of red. He speeds up, eyes widening at the newfound squelch against his knuckles, echoing around the tiled room.

“A-Alex.. Just- Hahh.. Just fuck me! I need it- please?” Yoba, you don’t know why this was driving you so crazy, never before having the thought cross over your mind- Feeling like some helpless free-use toy. But you were thinking with your gut, the dumb thing connected to the throb of your clit, influencing your sense deprived brain, craving more, more touch more of him. More of Alex.

“Fuck- Okay. okayokay- S’okay m’ gonna fuck you…- gonna fuck you now-” He all but babbled, nervous and fast in tone, completely ignoring the previous pressing issue of getting you out. Now all in favour of drilling himself in.

His cock is quickly freed. Tip dark and angry with arousal, leaking out little pearls of pearlescent precum, crying out for the sweet wrap of your pussy. He jerks himself off, wetting his length with your juices, letting the thick vein throb against the delicious sticky kiss of your cunt. He finds himself tapping his cock over the slick-wet folds of your achy cunt, slap, slap, slap, sliding through your wetness while he jerks himself.

He sighs out in awe at the sweet jumps you give, each flinch and feeble attempt to push back on him. You weren't faring any better in there. Imagination running rampant, stuck in a twisted sensory deprivation chamber, dark and warm, blind to Alex’s actions, giving him surprised jolts and jumps with every touch.

He lets the dark pink mushroom tip of his dick push in, just the tip- Juust the tip – Huffing a short groan when it pops out of your cunt with a dirty-wet sound, forcing the man to grit his teeth tight. He keeps it up, letting the thick, weepy pudge of his cock head catch on your hole, choking a groan behind his teeth every time it slips back out.

You squirm against the confines of your little box prison, about to whine out another beg before Alex beats you to it. His hand holds your hip, nice and steady as if it could move at all right now. He talks you through it, breathing out babbled praises, reassurances, oddly sweet despite the vulgar scene. Ohh, but when he finally sinks into you, pushing deeper, deeper, deeper! Thick tip kissing lovingly at the swell of your cervix, nestled nice and snug in your guts.

“Al..ex..” Yoba, it's the only word you know, it seems. A Chant easily dropping off of your tongue, murmured around the walls of the locker you’d stuck yourself in,

You’re not the only one. Alex can’t help but breathe out your name, again and again falling off of his lips like drool while he sinks into your cunt. Finally, finally feeling the sweet swell of your cunt enveloped the fat length of his cock, silky soft walls hugging on him. You squeeze- 

How could he keep his hips still like this? Why bother at all? He surely doesn’t.

The brunette rolls his hips into your ass, rolling his eyes with his own movement, relishing in the gushy snuggle of your walls on his cock. He finds himself mindlessly rocking his thick cock into your silky pussy, humping his hips against your ass like some kind of mutt in heat. His hands wrap around the lovely spread of your thighs, hooking under, using you as leverage and careful as he can, using your pussy like a special toy, tender with his grinding rolls.

He can feel you attempt to give it back, trying your best to hump back on his lap, take him down deeper, kissing your folds on his base, letting those wiry hairs brushed over his lap get all sticky-slick. His mouth falls open at the sight, stringy, creamy, frothy- a mess in his lap all drooled by your cunt, wet pussy kisses with each rolling fuck of his hips.

A heavy breath makes its way through his nose, eyes hyper-focused on the pretty, creamy ring around his length as he fucks his hips against you, watching the mess slowly leak its way onto his pants loosely dropped down his waist. An ache builds in his pelvis, the thick vein pulsing on the underside of his cock.

You felt mindless, stuck in the warm darkness, humid with your own breath, skin tacky and moist, joints aching, back pinching but fuck- You couldn’t care less. Not with the heat between your legs, or the praises and promises babbled by the man behind you. Yoba, especially not with the way he moves to mount up on you, soft fucks turned hearty and thick, clapping hard, pelvis slapping into your ass and pussy.

He fucks you. Holding you nice and steady for his hips to snap, finishing off each and every thrust with a roll to his hips, jabbing the pudge of his tip into the supple, mushy little spot inside of you. Alex eyes the pretty ripple of your ass clapping on his pelvis, whimpering deep in his throat with how juicy and gushy your cunt was on his length. 

I was all so much. For both of you-

His hips snap, pace faltering, clapping his hips in heated but sloppy staccatos, dragging his cock out and slamming right back in with a wet smack of his hips. You cry with every thrust, muffled and echoed against the walls of the lockbox, silky cunt squeezing on his tip, babbling his name over and over and over.

“Shit- Babe-!” He throws out the name and fuck, it feels right. It's all over when his fingers dare to come forth, rubbing tight circles into your sticky clit, twiddling with the little thing, making you tighten-

Oh it's a dangerous game, feeling the supple milk of your pussy, squeezing on his length in those sweet pulses while you cream- He has to pull out- Fuck, gotta cum-

The poor guy barely makes it, spilling onto your weepy cunt, jerking himself off over your back, letting ropey spurts of hot cum land in spatters over your skin. Of course he keeps his other hand up, circling your clit feverishly in the same pattern he strokes off his cock, working you both through those tender orgasms you’d brought upon each other- 

It’s all hot breaths, panting hard, chest heaving with the comedown. Oh poor you, achy legs still all stuck, sweaty body slippery against the squeeze of metal. Alex notices in his haze, scooping you into his arms, uncaring of the sticky, musky splashes of cum stained over your back. He hushes you, huffing a chuckle into your neck when he finally gets you free!

“Hi..” You groan, falling into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, daring to stretch your legs with a wobbly twitch, cramping hard in your calf.

“Hey.” He blinks, hand already working to soothe your poor muscles, massaging warmth into your skin, on fire compared to the freezing floor tiles.

“So..” The brunette bites into his bottom lip, kissing his teeth with a pondering tut before he turns to properly face you, flashing a teeth-filled, goofy grin.

“How about a bath?” 

→ Kinktober Masterlist & Taglist ←

Thank you so much for reading! If you have any thoughts please let me know! I'd love to hear them <3 your words spur my heart on!

Property of : SashiAvi

TagList

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[theemporium]

Could you do a smut-berry daiquiri with #6 for oscar piastri? I love your writing so much!! 💕

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

6. “I’m going to fuck out every last thought out of this pretty little head.”

.

Formula One was all about control.

Being a good driver meant having good control over the car, over your strategy, over your mindset the second the wheels hit the track. It meant being in control of your emotions and your thoughts. It meant being hands on and always switched on and having every passing thought being about the car and the race and achieving the most out of the weekend. 

And fuck, sometimes it was exhausting. 

It was stupid to complain about because this was his dream, this was everything he had trained and raced and worked his way up to. And he wouldn’t change it for the world. He really wouldn’t. But Formula One was more intense than any of the previous championships he raced in or anything he had ever experienced before. 

Everything was on his shoulders. The engineers were constantly asking him questions to make sure the car was fit to drive. The trainers were constantly passing new routines and diets by him to make sure he was healthy. The strategists were asking him about tire compounds and pit stop calls and lap times. The media team was always asking him to film videos for this sponsorship or that platform.

Sometimes, it was just all too much and Oscar just wanted to switch his brain off, to let someone else take control, to be the one in the passenger seat for once.

“Hm, look at you,” you cooed as you ran your hand through his hair, pushing it back and taking in his flushed cheeks and glossy eyes. “Look so pretty like this, Osc.” 

“Shit,” he whined, his eyes fluttering shut as he felt your other hand lightly trace down his stomach, his abs softly clenching at the sensation. “Please.”

“You’re being so good f’me,” you hummed, grinning a little at the way his hips bucked like he was looking for some friction. “Hardly even touched you and you’re already so fucked out.” 

Oscar blinked his eyes open, blood roaring in his ears and heart thumping wildly in his chest. “Wanna feel you.” 

“Yeah?” You questioned, your eyes darkening as you watched him nod instantly in response. Your gaze wandered down his body, the way he had practically melted into the mattress from the two orgasms you had wrung out of him already with the small toy that was abandoned somewhere between the sheets. He looked like a fucking dream, laid out and still in his boxers that were an absolute mess now. “Say it properly, baby. Ask nicely.”

His cheeks burned, his thoughts feeling slow and syrupy as he tried not to whine at the loss of your hand in his hair. “I…”

“C’mon, baby,” you cooed, soft and encouraging and, fuck, it went straight to his dick. “Be a good boy and use your words.” 

“I wanna—” He choked out when he felt your palm cupping his length over his boxers, squeezing him softly. “I wanna be inside you, please. I wanna come inside you.” 

“See, wasn’t that easy?” You grinned, sweet and condescending and it shouldn’t have thrilled him as much as it did. You palmed the heel of your hand against his bulge, listening to the way he whimpered and cried out and tried to lift his hips for more. “Good boys get what they want when they ask nicely.”

“M’good,” Oscar whined, his eyes glossy and dazed over and he just looked at you with so much trust, it made your chest tight. “Please, I’ve been so good.”

“Of course you have,” you hummed as your fingers gripped the waistband of his boxers, tugging the material down until it was thrown somewhere on the ground amongst the rest of your clothes. You straddled his lap, just hovering over him as you leaned down to squish his cheeks in your hand. “I’m going to fuck out every last thought out of this pretty little head.”

“Fuck,” Oscar moaned, breathless and whiny before you leaned down to kiss his pouted lips. 

“It’s what my good boy deserves for getting on the podium.”

.

[multiplicationdivision]

A Marathon in His Shoes

Charles had come to him in a panic this morning, donned in a different body and personality. He’d gotten some pair of boots from a second-hand store and been transformed into a middle-aged man, complete with a dadly outfit and mindset. Amir had barely believed the crazy DILF until Charles had pulled on another pair of shoes from the store, transitioning into a tired looking college bro the second the dirty nikes hit his feet, the transformation complete with a bout of gen-z slang Amir could barely understand.

They’d spent the rest of the morning ferrying a number of pairs of shoes back to Amir’s place from the Goodwill. Whatever seemed like it would create an interesting outcome. Amir had gotten his flickering light fixed when a pair of work boots made Charles a well experienced electrician. Charles had been able to explain literal rocket science when a pair of very worn sneakers transformed him into some NASA scientist. Charles had even abided by the guy’s NDAs, seemingly unable to shrug off that ingrained level of discipline.

Charles had come to him because no matter what he tried, the guy couldn’t become himself again. Every pair of Charles’ collection of sneakers left him the man he’d been transformed into, nothing of his nerdy self-returning. It was a problem that had fortunately been readily forgotten with the slew of fun that the guy was having, trying on a slew of personalities like they were costumes. Egged on by Amir who was similarly having a blast, running around his house as Charles became a host of random men.

The problem arose again in the evening though. The fun dissipating from Charles’ mood as time went on, especially with the onset of the weirdly toxic gym bro mindset. That and how disgusting sweaty clothes felt when the sweat never seemed to evaporate. Each body was stuck in the state it had been when the shoes had last been worn and most of his bodies weren’t in the greatest state. Charles seemed uncomfortable in most of them, despite the excitement.

“Theres still one pair of shoes you haven’t tried, you know” Amir said, walking to his shoe rack in another room. Atop it sat his other pair of trainers, identical to the ones he’d wore currently. Neon yellow where his were orange.

“Wait really?” Came Charles’s currently testosterone deep reply, edging with the frustration that his current muscular body always seemed filled with. “Hell yeah man” Amir said, quickly slipping both on before taking them off again and returning to his orange pair. Refreshing their state. 

He headed back to the sweaty man in his living room, handing Charles the trainers. “Put these on” he demanded.

Charles and Amir had known each other for years. They’d done everything together, seen every part of each other. High school to a college frat to working gigs, they were more comfortable with each other than they were with themselves.

Charles studied them against the natural instinct of his current body, forcing his steroid dulled gym bro personality to focus on the clean sneakers in his dirty muscular hands. The Charles in the guy cutting through the tense anger of his body, shooting a slightly surprised expression shot back at Amir. Amir was never one to share, especially something so deep as this.

Charles was stuck as someone else. That seemed to be the deal. Completely unable to return to a state that was just him, loving little shit as he was. Charles couldn’t go back to the man that was honest with every fraction of his life, laying himself bare to Amir. Amir wasn’t vulnerable like that, always anxious to expose the parts of himself that he was so terrified of.

He found himself giving his pair of prized trainers anyways. It made too much sense. Every other body that Charles wore fit awkwardly on him, the personalities fighting the stranger that slipped them on. Charles himself seemed wary of the ways they changed him, no matter how fun spouting facts and skills was. He couldn’t trust them, but he could trust Amir.

“Really?” Charles asked nervously, looking at his fidgeting best friend. Amir nodded despite his nerves, terrified yet oddly excited. This was an extreme way of bonding, baring his life and soul to a friend. It felt right though.

Charles shrugged off the dirty sneakers still saturated with sweat and slipped on Amir’s sneakers over the gym bro’s damp socks. The man shivering as his body shifted, his musculature decreasing as the sweaty clothes warped into a reflection of Amir’s outfit. The odor of BO becoming pleasant as Amir’s aftershave and cologne now wafted off of two bodies.

Charles’ nervousness at Amir’s gesture twisted into relaxation as Amir’s personality fit comfortably against his. The slump of his shoulders as the tension evaporated made Amir feel warm, his own anxious energy dissipating itself as Charles appeared to fully relax into his new body.

“Damn you feel good” Charles said and Amir couldn’t even muster a thanks, distracted as Charles felt out his new limbs with a smile. Amir had a slew of insecurities about his own body, anxious that he wasn’t smart enough, jack enough, attractive enough. Those worries seemed insane now, watching his friend truly enjoy it all, as if it was a comfy blanket.

“You all good Amir?” his own voice said to him, peering through Amir’s faltering insecurities. “You just wear my body well” he replied, voice low as his heart beat faster and faster. Charles got closer and Amir could see a uniquely Charles smile form on Amir’s lips.

“I think it fits me better than my original one” Charles admitted, his eyes traveling over every bit of Amir’s body that were now his. He had every bit of Amir’s life in his mind so he knew what Amir intended.

If Charles needed a new body that he could feel good in, Amir’s was his. Amir was willing for the man to have everything from him, because Amir wanted Charles to have everything. Amir had wanted that for so long, and it was overwhelming to hear the flirtation now focused on him.

“Always loved your arms you know” Charles said, tracing the lines of his hands. “Felt them around me in college and I never really wanted that to end”. Amir wanted nothing more than to tackle the man at that, fall together on his shitty couch.

“Was pretty wary about your new hair, honestly” Charles continued with a laugh as he felt the buzzed sides. “Thought your shaggy mess was cute, but I’ll admit that this has grown on me”, he said, breaking some boundary between the two of them as he compared the prickly sensation of his hair with Amir’s identical sides, his hand caressing Amir’s undercut. It should’ve felt the same as when Amir touched it, but there was too much of his best friend in this. It lit his nerve endings up like fire. “Liked it so much that I wanted a cut to match, but I think I like this more”

“What are you doing Charles?” Amir said, feeling something fundamentally shifting in how they would go forward. That was bound to happen when you gave your body and soul though.

“I used to be mad about being shorter than you, you know” Charles said as he pulled close to him, the scent of Amir’s toothpaste on his breath. “I was mad about how you were better at basketball and getting things from high shelves, sure.” He paused, like he was himself being honest for the first time.

“I think I was mostly mad that I couldn’t kiss you” he said with a final gentle move, pressing his lips into their twin. It felt like electricity, all the shock and want shooting from Amir into Charles. He didn’t kiss like Amir, all full of devouring need for more. Not held back at all by the hesitation of his current body, infecting Amir himself with an aspect of Charles.

Amir felt himself truly open up to this man. Let Charles take over as they fell to the couch. The man used his knowledge of Amir’s life against him, drawing from his fantasies with finesse, pressing down on his shoulders with a fervor that belied fucking years of mutual tension. Charles held both his and Amir’s collection of memories fantasizing about each other and Amir found himself stuffling a laugh as they tumbled across each other.

“You could have kiss me” he choked out, gasping as Charles wormed his way down past his boxers, hand already clasped around his cock like Amir liked it, just the right amount of pleasure. “Just cause I was taller than you didn’t mean it would’ve been that difficult” he joked, using his own weaknesses against Charles as he groped the guy’s own cock beneath his jeans, knowing how the sensation of his boxers against his cock would drive the man wild. As predicted, the man was caught between his own choked laugh, eyes widening as he tried to compose himself.

They played a game together. “You cannot judge me you mountain” Charles gasped as Amir pulled own his pair of Amir’s favorite jeans. “I have my own hangups too you know-“ he just about said, before Amir teased his hard dick with his lips.

“Get used to being a mountain ‘Amir’ ”, Amir said playfully, leaving Charles to look almost offended at his new strange pet name before the guy whimpered at the feeling of Amir’s full devotion to his cock, calling upon years of TMI from his best friend about what he liked in sex. Amir remembered right, Charles going limp as Amir blasted his neurons. It made him want to further blast the guy’s brain, feeling Charles’ moans rendered in his Amir’s husky voice.

Charles came in his mouth and on his shirt. It was exactly how his cum was from his curious years as a teenager, ropey salty fluid across his tongue. Charles seemed all the more desperate to get a taste himself, quick to return the favor. Pulled himself down to Amir’s precum wet jeans and tore down the boxers Charles likely remembered buying like he’d done so himself. They still both wore their trainers, the rubber soles knocking across each other as the two repositioned so Charles could get his fill.

“Hope you feel exactly what I felt fucker” Charles demanded, using Amir’s own technique against him. The rhythm and motion that he knew Charles loved was now turned on him, the feeling better than every fuck he’d had before. Charles seemed to use his own very recent experience in feeling it in Amir’s own body to perfect it on the man’s own cock, modifying it to strike at the right nerves at just the right time.

Hot tears flowed down Amir’s face when he came, feeling the cum spurt nearly identically across Charles’ shirt, making them a mirror again. Two men with their bodies a mess of sweat, identical pairs of jeans and boxers pushed to their ankles as they lay slumped on top each other on a truly shit couch.

“Holy fuck was that better than everything we’d both hoped for” Charles breathlessly exclaimed; his breath warm against Amir’s face. He likely knew, having Amir’s whole life at his fingertips. That large breach of privacy was becoming so much less terrifying at the sheer potential of it, letting this man know exactly how to play him.

“Can you stay?” Amir said without thinking, desperation in his voice. He didn’t even know what he meant by that. Stay as a copy of himself? Stay with him here? Forever?

“Well, my name is technically on the deed” Charles said, satisfaction in his voice despite the joke. It was something of an answer to both.

Realistically Charles wouldn’t always be Amir. It just was far too useful to abuse the collection of sneakers and boots they’d picked up. Amir would likely never need to hire a whole host of handymen in the future again, a suitable body for every job at their fingertips. Aside from that and whatever other fun could be had, Charles fit here. Fit as him, with him.

Their bodies together as Amir flipped on the TV. He knew himself well and they were both out in a minute, synchronized snores as the news murmured on.

[thanksbutno98]

Leather Couch

John Price x fem!reader OC

Summary: Furniture shopping with your husband, John Price.

Warning: swearing, pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, illusions to sex, not edited.

——————

“Isn’t it gorgeous!”

“Not at this price.” John picked up the price tag and scoffed at how overly expensive it was. He showed it to his wife who was truly the most gorgeous thing in the show room.

Johns face fell when he saw you wave him off and inspect the piece of furniture with a wide smile. You had asked to stop here on your day of errands, telling John you found the perfect couch for your living room while online shopping and you needed to see it in person.

“Oh, cmon we gotta spend our money on something.” Bending over the back of it you lightly smacked your hand into one of the cushions of the large L shaped couch with a chase lounger making it look more U shaped.

“No we don’t. It’s called a savings for a reason.” John tried to give you a charming smile followed with a swift pat to your bum hoping it would get you to give up on this couch. Normally this worked on you especially since he was wearing that fitted grey knit sweater that showed off his muscular pecs and biceps. John had paired it with dark blue jeans and all white adidas trainers.

Turning to your husband you gave him an annoyed look that didn’t seem to phase him. Walking around the large piece of furniture you plopped down, sinking into the white cushions.

“I can see it now. An excuse for you to get a bigger tv.” With an outstretched hand you waved it in front of you as if to imagine a brand new tv that would hang above your fire place.

“At this price I don’t think we could afford a new tv.” John was holding the plastic sleeve the price tag was in and looking at it incredulously. Hearing you huff out a breath in disappointment had him flinging it, only for it to fall back into place and proudly show itself off.

“We don’t even need a new couch.” John tried to reason but you patted the spot next to you, inviting him to come join you.

The way your hair framed your face although it was half pulled back in a gold clip had your husband’s stern demeanor faltering. You looked beautiful in your leggings, maroon boots, and faded rusted brown Sherpa fleece. The top button was missing and the left sleeve was frayed at the cuff from how old it was. It was fitting a little snug and you complained earlier that the pockets had shrunk somehow. What John was not going to tell you, was that the pockets weren’t actually smaller but your growing belly was taking up more room, leaving little space for your hands.

“John the couch we have is the old one from my dad’s place. It’d be nice to have one that actually fits the space.” Rounding the couch John plopped down right next to you. His eyebrows shot up in surprise at how comfortable the couch was.

“Comfy isn’t it?” You asked, hope dancing in your bright eyes.

“What would we do with the old one?” John looked at you from the corner of his eye trying not to give in.

It was proving difficult having you now holding his much larger left hand with both yours. Your wedding ring was sparkling in the furnitures stores bright white lights and he couldn’t help but bring his right hand over and play with it. John’s eyes moved from your wedding ring to your belly that had become rounder in the past few months.

It was strange to him that there was a baby growing in your belly and since finding out he would be a father John was trying to cling to normalcy, but that too was proving hard. John saw this as the last bit of your lives together before it would change forever. So, he was in the mindset to keep things the way they normally were before you were pregnant, to hold on to this chapter as long as possible. You could say he was doing it out of fear but in all honestly John didn’t know he was doing it at all, it was subconscious.

“Donate it? Honestly we should just toss it.” Leaning back into the cushions you were satisfied the couch was as comfy as it was pretty.

“We can’t throw that thing away.” John tutted and shook his head.

“It’s old, John. I don’t see why we can’t get rid of it.” You were laying on the charm hoping John would give in and say yes to getting the new couch.

“That’s where you told me you’re pregnant.” John said in a hushed voice.

His right hand moved from your wedding ring and came to your belly, resting over the rounding bump as his lips were tugged into a content smile. He cried like a baby when you told him but now all he could be was happy yet nervous knowing you were making him a father.

There he was. Your sentimental softy who played tough around you in public instead of the normal goofy, sweetheart you got in the comforts of your home. The smile you wore was much larger as your hand came up to stroke John’s hairy face. His beard was scratchy under your finger tips and you opened your mouth ready to tell him how much you adored him. That he was an amazing husband and the love of you life. That you’d keep that couch if it really meant that much to him and now it meant that much to you hearing his reasoning.

“Finding everything alright?” A store employees voice interrupted you before you could profess your love to your husband.

You could scream in that moment and felt like throwing the coasters that sat on the ugly coffee table at the employee. John slipped back into his stoic demeanor, his hands retreating back to his sides and you lost your opportunity to get a sappy moment with him.

“Yes.” You snapped not realizing how curt your tone was.

John looked at you as if you had two heads for your rude response. You looked back confused and he only sighed not knowing how to tell you, you were being moody. It was unlike you to snap at people but especially service workers, that was more John’s stile to be randomly rude.

“It’s a nice piece of furniture, just a bit pricey.” John stood and gave a polite almost apologetic smile and nod to the man.

“It’s okay. We’re not interested.” You said going to stand and struggling somewhat. John didn’t seem to notice and you were glad of that. You were self conscious with your growing body and hadn’t actually noticed the mood swings although those around you did; especially John.

“Well, maybe you can find us a discount.” John asked the employee and you hated this part.

The part where John would haggle the price and you’d get odd looks from passerby’s as if you two were cheap. Maybe it was because you grew up poor that this always made you self conscious; your father tried to bargain the price of everything. The mortifying memory of him haggling the price over used rollerblades at a garage sale attempting to invade your mind.

“It’s fine. You like the old couch.” You squeezed John’s forearm and excused yourself to go find a bathroom. John swore he saw steam coming from your ears but had no clue why you’d gone from lovey dovey with him to pissed off in a matter of seconds.

On your way to the bathroom you felt a swell or annoyance, becoming a lot more upset than was characteristic of you. By the time you were out you were even more annoyed. The need to have to pee so often was frustrating and now you wanted the spiciest chicken sandwich possible with loads of pickles. You also wanted an orange, or maybe a kiwi; you couldn’t decide but either way it was all infuriating.

It was driving you crazy how the memories of your father’s frugality and need for a chicken sandwich was putting you in a foul mood. You were trying to rationalize that it was the employee who caused this, avoiding the idea that pregnancy was becoming harder than you liked. It was suppose to be a blissful thing not something that left you feeling this horrible constantly. You weren’t ready to come face to face with the guilt of not enjoying being pregnant as much as you thought you should.

By the time you were back to the couch, where you left John, he was gone. Glancing around the show room you would expect it would be easy to spot the hulking 6’2 man but you were wrong. This only made you more upset that you’d have to go looking for him when you were starving and now all of a sudden your boobs were aching terribly.

With a huff you tried to ignore the discomfort and find your husband. Through your search you wound up in the rug section, stumbling across the rug of your dreams. It was a large Persian ivory area rug that would look beautiful between your dusty blue walls and hopefully with the new white couch. It distracted you from your hunger, annoyance and sore breasts.

That was until the pain in your breasts intensified from one moment to the next having you grip the rug firmly and let out a pained whine. It was to a point your hand instinctively moved to your right breast and grabbed it to help dampen the stinging pain in your nipple.

Letting out a sharp breath you winced and tried to apply more pressure to the aching area, your other hand doing the same as your left breast began to thrum in pain. You stood like that for what felt like a few seconds trying to massage away the intense sensation. It almost felt like an electric current shot through your nipples for a moment and went back to an intense ache. You were told this was normal but it sure as hell didn’t feel normal.

A loud scoff echoed down the cramped isle you were in breaking you out of your trance. Rugs were hanging from the ceiling on either side of you making the area narrow only allowing people to walk down together tightly shoulder to shoulder or single file. Looking from side to side you saw a woman about your age staring at you in disgust, her husband was tugging on her elbow to try and get her to stop staring at you.

You glanced around again seeing you were the only person she could be making that rude face at. The woman with pale skin, short auburn hair and beautiful hazel eyes turned to you, mouth hanging open and eyelids pulled back. Her expression was hateful as if you kicked her puppy and just her looking at you like that lit a fire underneath you.

She was messing with the wrong person at the wrong time and you felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you stood there holding your boobs. You knew you looked odd, maybe even crazy but the amount of discomfort you were in was enough that you didn’t quite care. Not only that but you were pissed because you had to pee again.

“What.” You snapped hating how you felt tears burning behind your eyes.

“Can’t you do that somewhere else? Or do you need to be playing with yourself in front of me and my husband.” She snapped right back at you and you hated that she sounded so posh.

“Lauren, stop.” Her husband begged in a hushed voice. Shooting an awkward and apologetic half smile to you.

“I’m pregnant you asshole. And I can’t really control when my tits are gonna get sucker punched in the areola. So if you want to watch me cry because I can’t fucking control my hormones and this rug is really pretty but I know my husbands gonna say we can’t afford it, then please, stay, be my guest.” The words tumbled out, coated in venom as you tried to control the rage you wanted to unleash on this very nicely dressed couple.

The shocked look on both their faces as hot tears rolled down your cheeks was priceless. You stood there, hand on one boob, the other clutching the rug you liked and silently crying. Sniffles started to pick up and you regretted calling her an asshole instead of a cunt.

“I’m so sorry.” Laurens husband apologized and started to pull her in the opposite direction. He was then whisper shouting at her asking her why she did that and this is why he hates going shopping with her.

“How was I suppose to know she’s pregnant? She looks fuckin’ fit.” Lauren’s voice carried down the aisle.

“Thank you.” You croaked at the unintentional compliment getting disturbed looks from both of them. They looked at you like you were crazy and you didn’t blame them because you felt crazy at the moment.

Turning you buried your face between two rugs and cried into the space between them. It wasn’t shame maybe just embarrassment that was causing the tears now. You felt like an idiot that you were in this rough of shape. The only upside to any of this was that the very pretty woman called you ‘fit’ which was a confidence boost you didn’t know you needed. Then your stomach growled and you saw the price of the rug and began to cry all over again. You just couldn’t get ahold of yourself and you knew this was irrational. But emotions had taken over and you were going to stop fighting yourself and let this hormonal outburst run its course.

That’s when you felt a large hand lightly placed on your lower back. The familiar smell of John’s cologne swirling around you. It made you even more upset because you’d been searching for him only for him to find you.

“Darling, are you okay? I heard some couple say a pregnant lady was crying in the rug isle and was hoping it wasn’t you.” The smell of spearmint floated in the air as John’s warm breath ghosted your ear.

“No, I’m not okay. And I am that pregnant lady.” You turned to see John staring down at you wide eyed and looking a bit mortified.

“What’s wrong?” John was at a loss. You rarely cried and to see you having a meltdown in public was mind blowing to the man.

“I was holding my boobs because they were hurting. You know how they’ve been hurting.” You wildly gestured with your hands and John nodded along apprehensively.

“Then this lady accused me of playing with myself and I wasn’t! I just wanted a chicken sandwich and maybe an orange or a kiwi. I can’t decide. And now I’m crying cuz I couldn’t find you and I like this rug but I know you’re going to say we can’t afford it. And I just want to go home.” You sobbed the whole ordeal out and then tried to place your face in your hand. John had grabbed by your corllar at this point and pulled you close.

“Alright, it’s alright. We’ll get you home and I’ll get all those things for you.” John’s voice was deep and reassuring. Slowly he wrapped you up in his arms, his hands rubbing up and down your back to help soothe you.

“Even the rug?” You asked against his chest, hiccuping and trying to catch your breath.

With a deep sigh John looked up at the rug you’d found and saw the price. It took a few nods of his head and internal convincing but he conceded. He had his pregnant wife who was having a meltdown in his arms, of course he’d do anything to make you feel better.

“Even the rug.”

——————

“Happy?”

“Yes.” The smile you wore was of pure bliss as you took a bite of the spicy chicken sandwich John had gotten. You then chased it with a sip of pickle juice from the jar. It was odd to John how intense your cravings could get but he was going to keep that to himself.

You two were sat on the old leather couch in your living room with food wrappers strewn about the coffee table and a plate of freshly cut oranges and kiwis. John was hesitant to start eating since the last time you had cravings like this you ended up wanting his food too, which he had finished, so he had to go back out and get more.

“Could I have a bite?” You asked a bit of sauce decorating the corner of your mouth.

“Of course.” John said with a smile handing you his burger and a napkin. You took a bite and gave it back, shaking your head ‘no’ then pointing at your own food.

“Mines so much better.” Your words were such a relief to John. It was the green light for him to dig in and he did.

“So did that lady really ask if you were touching yourself?” Words muffled as John spoke with his mouth full.

“Yeah, I was massaging my boobs in her defense.” You shrugged it off not finding the exchange all that bad anymore. To be honest you were completely over it now having the food you craved.

“Still, bloody insane to say anything.” John muttered finding it ludicrous anyone would say something to you. Normal people would mind their own business or pretend like they saw nothing.

“Eh, I don’t know. I think I might have been the ‘insane’ one. I had a full blown meltdown.” You used air quotes on the word ‘insane’ then grabbed an orange slice and ate it. John couldn’t look at you as you ate the weirdest combination of foods.

“You’re pregnant, don’t worry.” It was sweet that John was coming to your defense although you knew he felt otherwise.

“You’re a smart man John. I know for a fact you wanted to tell me to get a grip.” You laughed as you spoke, paying close attention to your husband’s face. His bushy bearded didn’t hide anything and you saw how he tried to play coy.

“No idea what you’re talking about.” Averting his eyes John held back the laugh itching at the back of his throat. You knew him to well and it showed.

“Sure” you smiled.

A lapse of silence took over as you both ate your food and watched tv together. It was a few minutes until John decided to break the silence.

“I bought the couch.” John’s words had your head snapping away from the program.

He didn’t bother looking at you but took the last massive bite of his burger. Taking a napkin he cleaned off his face and hands then sat back, the leather cushion whining against his weight.

“And the rug.” John finally looked over to you with a charming smile dusting across his lips and tossing the napkin onto the coffee table.

In the blink an eye you pounced on him. A deep laugh filled the halls of your home as you smothered John in kiss after kiss. Only taking pauses to squeal ‘I love you’s’ against his warm skin. He laughed the whole time and didn’t fight off the affection but sat there and enjoyed it. It felt amazing being showered in kisses to his cheeks, forehead, chin and lips. It made the money leaving your shared bank account not sting as much.

Then one of the kisses lasted a bit longer to his lips and his own started to move along. You moved and settled in his lap now straddling his waist. John didn’t mind how this shower of kisses ended up with you on top of him, arms wrapped around his neck, lips locked in a passionate makeout. When you started to rock your hips over his lap did John realize your new intention and he was more than happy to oblige.

“I don’t know what’s gotten in to you today but I love you.” John mumbled against your lips. The feeling of your giggle vibrating across his skin had him scooping you up and laying you down on your back against the leather couch cushions.

“Gotta get one more shag on it before we move it downstairs to my office.” Smiling lovingly up at your husband he brushed your hair out of your face as he hovered above you.

“Oh, so we’re keeping it?” John’s blue eyes were soft and sweet like cotton candy. Finally his walls were down and he was ready to be that same sappy man he was in the furniture store. Leaning down he kissed you, tasting of the purest sugar and showering you in his warmth.

“Yeah, it’s where I told you I’m pregnant.”

~~~~~tag list~~~~~

@exhaustedpotat0 @glitterypirateduck @ivymarquis @crazymela @what-0-life @boredfairy4 @hihhasotherfixations @stephanswhxre @shanjisan @k4es @luvleywrites @kita03-0 @midwesternwitchery @aleynaleia @suckerforbassist @misshoneypaper @theaonlax @blackstar9005 @tooterbutt @havoc973 @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @freshlemontea @cosmoscoffeee @sae1kie @ohworm-writes @ghostslittlegf @fanficwriterlover @arminarlertssword @faceache111 @azu21 @thirstyb-ches @nini-11-08 @sgtgarricks @kiki-is-hyperfixating

[oftlunarialmoon]

75 Agere Journal Prompts

Draw yourself a kawaii bento lunch!

Write down any chores for the day as a to-do list or sticker check off list

Design a smol outfit

Make a playlist for your littlespace

Draw portraits of your stuffies

Write your headcanons for your comfort characters as caregivers

Write down some animal facts from different parts of the world that interest you!

List items that are your favorite color

Make a magazine collage with a specific theme

List ideas you want to do in certain seasons

List your favorite agere nicknames

Write down any agere headcanons you have for fictional characters or OCs

List stuffie name ideas

List all your current stuffie names

List your favorite phone apps for littlespace

Make a tier list of your opinions on different types of candy

Draw what your favorite characters would look like as stuffies

Invent a new kidcore fashion trend

List 5 facts about your favorite sea animal

Design your Jolly Roger if you were a pirate

Draw yourself as a Pokemon Trainer

List how you deal with stress in agere methods

Write out any recipes you can make while regressed

List crafts you’d like to make

Make a page about your morning routine when regressed

Make a page about your night time routine when regressed

Write out any rules or guidelines you have when regressed

What’s on your Agere/Littlespace Movies list?

Write about what you would do on a visit to the beach

List any animes you like when small

List your favorite agere books

Dear Past Me - What would you tell your past self?

Dear Future Me - What would you tell your future self?

List songs that make you regress

List your regression triggers (positive or negative)

Write about how you would comfort a friend in need

Write about your dream vacation

Make your christmas/birthday/holiday gift wishlist

List your fave agere video games

List your favorite stims

Write a letter to your favorite fictional character

Write a letter to a friend or family member

Play I spy and write down the categories and things you find

Make a page of your top 5 agere songs from the last month

List free activities you can do when regressed

Make a collage page from a coloring sheet and stickers

Play scavenger hunt with stickers of your preferred theme

Use a page to write down word games like word scrambles and mad libs

Fill a page with positive messages for yourself to read later

Write down tarot interpretations if you do tarot reading while smol

List ideas for kandi bracelets you could make

Declare a random day a holiday of some kind, write down how you celebrate it

Use a page to “braindump” all of your current thoughts, even if it’s babbling

Make a sticker collage inspired by your caregiver

Make a sticker collage inspired by the seasons

Trace your hand onto the page and give yourself fun nail art, tattoos, or accessories

Draw a race track for a toy car, add obstacles or scenery with stickers

Write a social media profile page for a comfort character

Make a “top secret” file with your stuffie’s secrets >:)

Make a collage inspired by yourself

Dedicate a page to facts about one of your special interests

Write a poem for your pet (or fave stuffie!)

Draw a scene around a sticker of your favorite animal

Draw the inside of a house and use stickers to furnish and decorate it

Draw a scene to play with your toys in

Try a mindful reset page (List problems you’re facing, then list more positive mindset changes to each one)

Document the stories you play out with dolls or toys

Write down “this or that” prompts in one color then answer them in another color !

Use stickers to tell a story or make a fun comic

Fill a page with word art, using any words that make you feel smol

Make a list of all of your OCs

Use a page to document Minecraft coordinates of your favorite builds

Draw the outline of a purse or bag, and use stickers to show what a character of your choice would have in their bag, or-

Use stickers to show what you would put in your dream agere bag!

Draw a face on a page in marker or pen, and use makeup to decorate it! (or face paint :p)

[epicspheal]

A Strong and Upstanding Heart! A Lance Analysis

Imagine you're a kid in the 90s playing Pokemon Red and Blue…you’ve gotten all eight badges, made it through Victory Road and bested Lorelei, Bruno and Agatha. Now the only person that you think stands before you and the title of Indigo League Champion is a certain cape loving Dragon Master…

That’s right we’re talking about Lance! Lance is definitely one of those character who has very different interpretations depending on whether or not you’re looking at the anime, games or manga. For the sake of consistency with my other analyses…I’m only sticking to the gameverse and any media that corresponds to it (mainline games, Pokemon Masters EX and Generations). 

Let’s start with his name…in English it’s a weapon. Which is very befitting a dragon master as in many pieces of European Folklore knights wielded lances to slay dragons. But considering in Pokemon Lance doesn’t slay dragon-types but befriends them you could compare him to many of the heroes of dragon-rider fantasy who often had weapons they carried while on the back of their flying reptilians. Lance in the games is very knightly in demeanor and one could very easily imagine him riding on the back of his Dragonite wielding a lance. In French his name is Peter which is actually derived from petard which is another medieval weapon again reinforcing that knightly demeanor. His German name is Siegfried who is a legendary hero who bested the dragon Fafnir, further symbolizing Lance as a proud warrior. 

But then his Japanese is Wataru which has a couple of different meanings. First is “Watatsumi” who is a legendary kami and water deity in Japanese folklore that happened to be a dragon. But also it is derived from “wata” which means “cotton” which his Korean name also is derived from. When we think of the language of flowers we usually think of Roses and Forget-me-Nots. Yet cotton has a lot of symbolism. Cotton is known to mean “fortune, gratitude, cherish, well-being and receiving blessings”. When we think of Lance, he’s had a lot of blessings in his life. He was born into a prestigious dragon clan and was chosen as the heir of said clan before he went to the league. He became an Elite Four member which is an esteemed position many trainers could only dream to have. He even manages to become champion afterwards which as a title bestowed upon very few. So much of his life is very much blessed and Lance recognizes that blessing and cherishes it. 

Now let’s take a look at his team. His team varies throughout the series due to his changing roles from Elite Four to Champion so we’ll be covering both

Starting with his Elite Four team, the first thing that often stands out is that he lacks a lot of diversity on his team with him having 3 Pokemon from the same family and two of them being unevolved. While some people may consider it poor team building (at least from a more competitive mindset) it actually means a lot storywise. We have to remember that Pokemon was originally meant to end at GSC and we know by then Lance has ascended to the rank of champion. So him having two Dragonair actually makes sense in that context as it was foreshadowing his growth in his strength as a trainer. Now let’s take a look at his movesets. One thing that sticks out is that he really loves the move Hyper Beam, Outrage and SafeGuard. Hyper Beam is a very powerful move with the drawback of causing the Pokemon to not be able to move after for one turn after its use. It definitely establishes Lance as a power player with a hint of recklessness since the use of Hyper Beam does leave his Pokemon so vulnerable. However it also shows the trust he has in his Pokemon’s power to have that move consistently in the movesets. Outrage is another high-risk, high reward move that allows him to utilize STAB as it’s a dragon type. Again this further solidifies Lances hyper offensive strategy and his trust in his Pokemon. However this is where the move Safeguard comes into play as the move actually protects against the self-inflicted confusion status. This shows that Lance is strategic with his hyper-offensive strategy

Now let’s look at his team as champion! We can see he now has three full Dragonite which again shows that him having Dragonair in the Kanto games was an intentional choice to foreshadow his eventual ascent up the ranks. And now we also see that all of his Pokemon share the flying type which leads to the joke that Lance should be known as the “flying type champion”. His movesets for his Pokemon have also drastically changed. He has way more variety in types which helps to enable better coverage. He still relies on high-risk, high-reward moves but with more focus on moves that have lower accuracy (Thunder, Blizzard, Fire Blast, Dragon Rush). This change in strategy reflects his growth in the time between the original Kanto events and the Johto events. He’s had to step up to the role of Indigo League champion which warrants a change in tactics. That being said, he still definitely relies on his old faithfuls Outrage, Safeguard and Hyper Beam on his signature Dragon type.

His rematch team in HGSS shows more Dragon types and a shift in strategy to involve more set up (Dragon Dance, Swords Dance and Double Team) as well as some more evasive techniques (Roar to get rid of bad matchups)

I also wanted to bring up his team when pairs up with his cousin Clair. His signature Dragonite in these match-ups knows the move Dragon Meteor- a powerful move that can only be learned by Dragon types that have a high enough trust in their trainer. This shows that he has a strong bond with his dragon types which is something Clair at the time hasn’t quite yet gotten to.

"Ah! I've heard about you, <player>! I lead the Elite Four. You can call me Lance the dragon Trainer. You know that dragons are mythical Pokémon. They're hard to catch and raise, but their powers are superior. They're virtually indestructible. There's no being clever with them. Well, are you ready to lose? Your League challenge ends with me, <player>!"

I really like this introduction quote from Lance as he does a good job selling the power of Dragon type Pokemon to the player. Not only that you can see how much pride he has in being the leader of the Elite Four.

"I still can't believe my dragons lost to you, <player>. You are now the Pokémon League Champion! …Or, you would have been, but you have one more challenge left. There is one more Trainer to face! His name is… <rival>! He beat the Elite Four before you. He is the real Pokémon League Champion."This quote here gives us a look into the mindsight of Lance in Gen 1 where he’s a little overconfident in the powers of his team. Which makes sense because as we know up until Blue and Red no one had managed to make it to the league at all meaning that he’s held the title of the strongest for a long time. So him getting beat by not one, but two 11 year old kids in succession was definitely a shock to the system.

"That red Gyarados wasn't acting right. As I feared, somebody must have forced it to evolve… Did you come here because of the wild tales? You're <player>? I'm Lance, a Trainer like you. I heard some rumblings, so I came to investigate… I saw the way you battled earlier, <player>. I can tell that you're a Trainer with considerable skill. If you don't mind, could you help me investigate?" This is our first conversation with Lance in the Johto and you can actually see a change in his demeanor. He’s not boasting about the superior powers of dragon types or his own skill as a trainer. He’s actually more humble with his approach saying he is a trainer “like you”. Also right now he’s focused on trying to solve the mystery of the Red Gyarados, showing that he is taking the mantle of being the champion of the Indigo League very seriously

"Dragonite, Hyper Beam."I just had to put in his iconic phrase in this analysis. We know what’s coming here- he’s about to blast a poor Team Rocket grunt to kingdom come and give him PTSD (as we know from Pokemon Masters as the grunt he hyper beamed is currently on Pasio). We see here how he has no tolerance for evil-doers

"Sorry, <player>. I saw how well you were doing, so I just hung back. Now all there is left to do is to turn off that odd radio signal."A lot of complaints about champions prior to gen 8 were that they let the protagonist take down the bad guys with little to no assistance. But here we get some reasoning from Lance as to why he took a backseat. He noticed that the player could handle the grunts by themself so there was no need for him to step in. 

"It's this machine that's causing all the problems. I don't see a switch on it… We have no choice. We have to make all the Electrode faint. That should stop this machine from transmitting that strange signal. It's no fault of the Electrode, so it makes me feel sad. <Player>, let's split the job.I really like this quote because it complements the “Dragonite, Hyper Beam” quote. Even though he is no-holds barred when it comes to evil, he recognizes that the Electrode are innocent and don’t deserve to suffer even though they have to be fainted in order to help save the Pokemon affected by Radio transmission.

"I've been waiting for you. <Player>! I knew that you, with your skills, would eventually reach me here. There's no need for words now. We will battle to determine who is the stronger of the two of us. As the most powerful Trainer and as the Pokémon League Champion… I, Lance the dragon master, accept your challenge!"Lance’s pre-battle quote before the champion battle is a nice progression from his pre-battle quote when he was an Elite four member. Again he comes to this battle with a more measured, less haughty response than three years prior (although he does kind of borrow Blue’s “I’m the most Powerful Trainer” bit). You can tell how much he’s grown not just in strength, but in attitude.

"…It's over. But it's an odd feeling. I'm not angry that I lost. In fact, I feel happy. Happy that I witnessed the rise of a great new Champion!"

Again we can see more of this growth from the defeat quote as champion versus when he was the leader of the Elite Four. Here we see he’s not in disbelief, nor is he upset that yet another kid bested him. In fact he’s happy to have seen the growth of another champion. 

"I'm glad to be on your team, Silver!"Alright now onto some Pokemon Masters EX quotes. I chose this one of the team ups because I like how we see throughout the game, we see how much Lance looks out for Silver and is proud of him. A far cry from when they first interacted in the Johto games where Lance had to give him some tough love by completely annihilating his team. It all comes full circle for Silver during the Johto Neo Champion arc where he’s finally able to win against Lance, and Lance couldn’t be prouder of him. 

"You all haven't changed one bit, I see! I must admit, I'm looking forward to these battles myself!"I really like this line from the Normal Champion Stadium where the original Indigo Elite Four and Blue team up. It’s nice to see how he interacts with some of his former colleagues 

"(I guess he's right. I was very happy to witness my challengers surpass me.) But maybe that means I'm starting to forget what it feels like to WANT to win.) [...] I still remember how frustrating it was to lose to Red and Blue back in Kanto. Both Dragonite and I need to approach this like challengers, not Champions..."I really like this quote from the Arc-Suit chapter as we see Lance coming towards an important realization. He’s been so focused on being an ideal champion, a trainer who can be a role model to others and mentor as well, that he’s forgotten what made him want to aim for the title of champion in the first place. His drive to win. His joy for the taste of victory. He thinks about his losses to Red and Blue and how he was frustrated he was bested by kids. And now he’s realizing that if he wants to continue to grow stronger, he has to approach battles like he’s not at the pinnacle of what it means to be a trainer.

"It's true that you're strong, Clair. And it's good to have confidence in your own abilities...but there's a limit to what's good and what's not. Too much pride can make you overconfident, and overconfidence can make you vulnerable." 

"You can be a little impulsive sometimes, Clair...but that earnest, straightforward attitude of yours is one of your greatest strengths as well. If you can learn to hone that, the sky is the limit!"I really like the relationship Lance has with his cousin Clair. Even though their personalities clash a bit, we see how much he does care for her even when he is chastising her. He wants her to be the best version of herself that she can

"A long time ago, when I was a member of the Elite Four but not Champion, I was defeated by a Trainer.He claimed to be the greatest of all, and he had the strength and skill to back it up. But eventually, a stronger Trainer came along, and even he was defeated... It was then that I realized something. That title—"the greatest"—can inflate your ego, but it doesn't really mean anything. It's an illusion, there one minute and gone the next...The way I see it, seeking to grow and improve yourself is far more worthwhile than chasing a fleeting illusion of greatness."

This quote here shows the moment where we can see the shift between his Gen 1 and Gen 2 personalities. It was the quick succession between Blue and Red as champion that allowed him to temper himself when it comes to chasing success. Sure he still values the title of champion, but he realizes that just because he obtained it that he can’t rest on his laurels, lest someone else come by and snatch the title away from him

"Leon, I think that capes should be more simple! When you're the Champion and greet new challengers with a swoosh of your cape...I understand that the details of your cape speak volumes about who you are. But for me, the simplicity of my cape helps me stand out more!" The dialogue about capes between Lance, Steven and Leon was a cute little interaction between the three champions regarding capes. We see Lance prefers simple capes compared to Leon’s whose cape is filled with advertisements. We know Lance has a huge fondness for capes even back from the Fame Checker where a woman from the Celadon Department Store mentions he comes by to purchase capes frequently. Even though he disagrees about designs for capes with Leon, we know from further into the conversation that he still greatly respects the symbolism Leon’s cape has showing him to be an open-minded and respectful individual

"I noticed you weren't your usual self right before our match.It was almost as if you were so worked up, you couldn't tell what was happening with your partner. Iris, you must remember that you're no ordinary Pokémon Trainer. You are a role model to others, and you represent Unova as Champion. I hope you can understand that and conduct yourself accordingly."

Ah so this is dialogue from the Iris event that definitely rubbed some people the wrong way. We know from earlier in the event that Iris was struggling with knowing that people seemed to find her an embarrassment as the champion from Unova. And then her Hydreigon goes out of control. We see here Lance actually could tell that something was up, but didn’t know the full context. His words do come off a bit harsh here to someone who knows everything going on with Iris, but you can see that he was trying to help her out. He understands the weight that comes with being champion, and also the weight of being a dragon tamer. 

"It's never too late. You can start with whoever needs you most."I really liked this line from Lance to Diantha once Iris is able to regain confidence in herself. Diantha was lamenting the fact that she didn’t think about mentorship as a champion (as she was kind of removed from the Team Flare plot in the gameverse canon). And we have Lance who's not admonishing her for that but showing there’s room to grow.

"Someday, stories about me will be passed down to future generations of our clan as well. If I think about it that way, it reminds me that I have to be on my best behavior.I'd like to be a good role model for all future dragon masters."This quote from Lance really helps to shine light on why he is so passionate about being a good role model and having a strong and upstanding nature. He realizes that he will forever be immortalized in his clan’s history and in the Hall of Fame. He wants to make sure the legacy he leaves behind is one that makes people feel energized and not ashamed

"This outfit shows off Gyarados's power as a dragon! What's that, you say? Gyarados isn't a Dragon-type Pokémon? Haha, not all dragons are Dragon-type Pokémon!" I remember this quote making rounds on social media as we get to have some in-universe acknowledgement that dragons =/= dragon types! It’s a distinction that you would expect a dragon master like Lance to know!

Lance is an iconic character and he’s a really good case study on how Gamefreak has always cared about their characters even as far back as gen 1. A lot of people deride the first region as being barebones but he’s one of the many characters regions that has had layers woven into him from the beginning as we can see his growth between the events of Kanto and Johto. He grows from the proud (and just a tad cocky) leader of the Elite four to a wise noble Champion and Dragon Master

[loassbarbie]

The science behind "Act as If": it's actually a CBT technique

Although science has yet to prove the 3D manifesting effect of the Law of Assumption, the “act as if” manifestation technique we so very often read about and practice does have some research support as a cognitive-behavioral intervention.

Cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT) has long been a cornerstone of modern psychology and psychotherapy, offering individuals practical tools to understand and improve their mental well-being. "Act As If" has emerged as a powerful and transformative intervention technique.

"Act As If" is a behavioral strategy that encourages individuals to consciously adopt the mindset and behaviors of the person they aspire to become, even when faced with self-doubt or challenging circumstances. Whether you're seeking to enhance your self-esteem, overcome obstacles, or simply better understand the inner workings of your mind, the "Act As If" approach can be a valuable addition to your mental health toolkit.

🎀 Why "Act As If" Works (in psychology, anyway)

At its core, the "Act As If" technique is a cognitive-behavioral strategy designed to encourage individuals to adopt the mindset and behaviors of the person they want to be. It is rooted in several core principles that guide its implementation. "Act As If" requires individuals to consciously act as though they have already achieved their goals, even when they may doubt their abilities or face daunting challenges. This helps build self-confidence and creates a self-fulfilling prophecy, where the mind and body work in tandem to manifest positive change.

The theoretical underpinnings of "Act As If" are deeply intertwined with self-perception theory - people infer their own attitudes, emotions, and abilities by observing their own behaviors. In the context of "Act As If," this means that by consistently engaging in the behaviors associated with their goals, individuals can alter their self-perception, ultimately reinforcing their self-belief.

🎥🎲 The Role of Role-Playing

By immersing oneself in the character of the person they want to become, individuals can better understand and internalize the attitudes and behaviors required for success. Role-playing provides a practical and hands-on approach to "Act As If," allowing individuals to experiment with different mindsets and behaviors and assess their impact on their self-perception and real-life outcomes.

We often engage in "self-sabotage," acting ineffectively despite knowing better ways of handling difficult situations. There are many reasons for this, and one is our dysfunctional, automatic thoughts. Thoughts like "I won't succeed no matter how hard I try" or "I can't do this" can hinder our actual abilities to do something well.

For example: you believe you are too overweight to go to the gym and not feel bad about yourself, or you don't believe you can actually lose the weight you need. When you let these kinds of thoughts influence your behavior, you might find yourself avoiding situations you find intimidating for thinking they're not for someone like you, or believing it's a lost cause. "Acting as if" can help alter these dysfunctional thoughts. Instead of engaging with these thoughts, "acting as if" might have you engaged in all of the activities someone who believed they could succeed would engage in: for instance, making an appointment with a personal trainer, which would result in more accountability, a better ability to perform exercises correctly, and a more rewarding experience overall. If you were out of shape before, "acting as if" can help you get in shape sooner.

The catch in the "act as if" technique is that we can use it even if we are 100% sold on our dysfunctional automatic thoughts. We don't have to wait until our thoughts change to step into the role we'd prefer. We instead step into the role, which can result in our thoughts changing more quickly and more permanently. Better yet, we don't have to wait for the law to kick in before we get what we want.

🧸👩🏻‍🏫Steps for "Acting As If"

💭Step 1: Identify the automatic thought or dysfunctional belief that is getting in your way.

🔄Step 2: Identify all of the things you would do if you believed the exact opposite of that thought to be successful in your goal.

🎭Step 3: Rehearse those behaviors: Act as if. Literally role-play. You can do it talking to yourself when you are alone, you can do it in your head during mindless moments of the day; you can even do it with your eyes closed, laying in bed, and visualize yourself engaging in those behaviors. The point is to be familiar enough with the behaviors that you can use them without thinking about them too much.

🎬Step 4: "Act as if" some more. Rehearse the behaviors some more. Maybe get more creative (start dressing up as the person you want to be, make a journal of all the things that happened on your role playing day, don't feel stupid - no one has to know anyway!)

💁🏻‍♀️Step 5: Engage in the behaviors you rehearsed. Each time a dysfunctional thought comes to mind, smile at it, and continue as planned.

By following this you may, at the very least, come across more confidently. Most people find that in practicing this regularly, they start to disbelieve the self-defeating thoughts. Having several experiences of success is a great way to undo the assumption that you will always fail. And after a while, there's no "acting" necessary. ;)

[joodles98]

i thinka bout older leon (normally)

while its implied that leon succeeds rose as chairman at the end of swsh i find it endearing that whenever u challenge him, his title is Trainer Leon. that says a lot about his changed mindset in approach to battling and what having a Title/Purpose means:

i think for anyone else, the idea of championing for 10+ years and then being thrust into the responsibility of managing the entire league, with hardly a break in between, sounds crazy. what in the workaholicism

(those closest to him, mostly sonia and raihan, and maybe eventually hop and gloria, would see through leon's Passionate Approach and lowkey highkey worry about him. but also know there's really nothing they could do about it.)

but i think leon finds comfort in the new role, for a few reasons (at least for awhile). i think he could see himself like mustard, who doesn't ever want to "retire," but accepts a different pace to life. i also think he finds comfort in a title, and all the duties and responsibilities it provides, for better or for worse. since that's all he's ever known.

embracing losing helps, even if he's still thoroughly bamboozled every time it happens to him. but ultimately, it helps him realize he can battle for the joy of it, simply, instead of measuring his success by a winning streak. but i don't think he's completely past that yet, there's a reason he's appointed himself to guard the master ball tier

its sooo easy to compare and contrast him to red. i've seen some people speculate that red fucked off to mt. silver because he was afraid of losing, and it was a way of fortifying himself, and that could be a reason why he rejected the champion title, too. aside from not wanting all the attention from fame, responsibilities of the title, and all that.

i like to think a big underlying reason red rejected the title is his simple approach to battling, and life itself. being a trainer is fundamentally who he is, there's no separation between his identity and a "title," the way there is, even still probably, for leon, who spent most of his life, and pretty much all of his battling career under a spotlight!!!

that's a lot for leon to grapple with. i think it takes him awhile to fully process it all. i think 2 things could happen for him:

He never retires from the chairman position, but eventually, calms his expectations of himself. mellows out his inner critic to the best of his ability. Similar to how i think red and blue approach their roles within the battle tree. it could get to a point where leon loses track of when he stopped feeling like it was his responsibility to mend everything within the league after rose, and that harboring guilt won't make him a good leader, and he's able to embrace the responsibility in his hands after a hard won mental war (and maybe help from said people who are closest to him). after that, he leads galar into a fruitful and FUN era, still competitive but less cutthroat and dominating. tournaments feel almost like festivals. his flair and eccentricities shine. he learns to delegate. it's giving camelot. this is why he insists on being humbly referred to as Trainer Leon on the pitch or in the tower. formalities don't matter, nor the imposing intimidation of a title, he's not thinking about that, or defending anything besides his joy!!!!

He retires a few years into the position, and realized it never really was his responsibility, despite a little bit of lingering guilt he feels on having "benefit" from rose for so long, and all the other guilt about not having found out his true intentions sooner, etc. the taste in freedom he got as chairman, in those battles at the tower, just made him hungrier. he starts to understand why red trained at mt. silver. he starts to yearn for the huge world he's barely seen since he was tethered to galar as champion, and even more so now as the chairman. so he'd quit. and probably go on a solo journey, maybe to another region, and finally see the world after feeling sheltered and contained for so long. he'd learn to be more himself everyday without holding back, and get really weird and mystical. kids would think he's like a wizard or something. he might even decide to inherit his mum's wooloo farm and become someone's cool uncle and a local legend. he lives the soft life he deserves thats still full of adventures. he could get into coaching and judging should he ever itch to go back to the league, but probably not for long. he cold also maybe inherit mustard's dojo, since his son seems to be more enthusiastic about tech than traditional battling and physical training. there, he'll get to still have those exciting battles he searched his life for, while still keeping his original dream alive, by personally mentoring the next generations who'd make the claim that galar STILL hosts the strongest trainers in the world. etc.

(i think there's so much to say about the two former champions we get to meet, mustard and peony, and how NEITHER of them have nothing to do with the league anymore, and they found their own fulfilling purpose. i wonder what that could imply for leon. lol)

yeah

[aventurineswife]

Something silly with big eater / trainer Reader (same one as before):

Quite a lot of the folks on Amphoreus having the same kind of mindset when they see Reader and thinking, “Oh they must be a rather gluttonous sloth,” up until Hyacine and Phainon (out of concern for Reader’s health, similar to Ratio) ask Reader to join them on a morning jog and Reader perks up like 🤩 and changes into their gym attire which is basically sweatpants and cropped hoodie exposing their abs, and shocking everyone with their lean but toned build. Dan Heng and the Trailblazer are very afraid for Hyacine and Phainon.

Meanwhile, the Kremnoans start paying attention like: 🤯😳🫣👀🤩😍😏😎😘 “Hello, beautiful, are you single~?” Coming from a nation that worships a war deity and would most likely value strength, they would probably find Reader checking off all the boxes of what might be typically attractive to them. The only reason almost none of them have made a move is because even they have trouble keeping up with Reader.

And, it’s no surprise that Mydei is the only one of them to keep up with Reader, and actually the first one to keep up without breaking much of a sweat.

As for Hyacine and Phainon, they were found almost dead in the baths after they finished training with Reader. 😅🫡

This is exactly the kind of chaos I love.

Hyacine and Phainon start off with good intentions, thinking they’re about to help Reader with their “bad habits,” only to instantly regret it when they realize Reader is a hyper-athletic powerhouse who just happens to eat a lot (sounds like my oc ahem). Meanwhile, the Trailblazer and Dan Heng—the only two who actually knew—are just watching in horrified amusement because they already saw this coming (THEY'VE PLAYED THESE GAMES BEFORE 🗣️‼️).

The real kicker? Amphoreus natives losing their minds. They go from judging Reader to absolutely thirsting after them once they see how strong and disciplined they actually are. A nation that worships war and strength? Yeah, Reader just catapulted to peak desirability overnight.

And then there’s Mydei. Of course, he’s the only one who can keep up, and he does it effortlessly. The mutual respect between him and Reader would be insane, and you know people are gonna start shipping them immediately.

Meanwhile, poor Hyacine and Phainon are just floating in the baths like exhausted corpses, completely dead inside. They tried. They really did. But they were not built for this.

[wewantclimateactionnow]

"To do this, we have to be open to revising our own theories of change. We have to be able to listen and acknowledge what millions of people are feeling and saying: that we are confused, overwhelmed, scared, angry, and threatened. No amount of cheerleading, educating and ‘righting’ at people is going to change that. People respond neurologically to being heard, respected and yes, redirected to what is in our joint best interest. What I am describing is an evidence-based, scientifically sound approach to shifting mindsets, hearts and behaviors. It is also reflected in the fields of social neuroscience, relational psychology and motivational interviewing in the public health sector. As the psychiatrist Dr Daniel Siegel says, “name it to tame it.”" Dr. Renée Lertzman is a leading climate psychologist, strategist, advisor, and trainer.

[fallershipping]

My OTP and NOTP are such yin and yangs but it's not unique to Anabel, sadly.

Looker and Anabel immediately respect one another as partners and friends despite Anabel taking the role as his boss. They value and praise each other's individual talents. Competitive training or Stakeout training, both see each other as amazing Pokemon trainers and rely on each other greatly. (Anabel wanting Looker to catch her blind spots, and Looker calling for Anabel's aid even when it's not UB Task Force related) Neither of them had to change to have a friendship like they do.

Anabel in my NOTP... It's a common trope. She's a girl, she is automatically placed lower than a male coworker. She HAS to change, as I have seen people state "ummm I liked when she was sweeter and cuter." She has to lose. Her Pokemon? Not girly enough, give her a feminine ace. She's a girl, she needs to fawn over someone she just met. Change her personality. Change her everything to fit MY needs.

But it's not just her. I think with anime women characters in general this is an issue writing wise and "Anime Fan" wise. No matter how strong, how powerful a female character is, sometimes she is still written as an object, as romantic (or sexual) appeal. She's written for a gaze, and often still never as strong as a male counterpart. Sword Art Online comes to mind, and My Hero Academia to an extent.. Just, whenever there's a big tournament, Anime women aren't really the focus of the story arc, no matter how powerful. This mindset... spreads to the fans, as I've seen. "She's just there to be another love interest to collect in my harem."

This does NOT apply to all anime or to all fans. But it is a trope that makes me want to find something more appealing to me.

[warchordsquared]

been contemplating the roleswap au......

(apologies in advance for the wall of text under the cut!!!!!!)

iii designs here!!!

iii->iv very quiet and reserved, very "if i keep my head down" mindset. jumps at the chance to be a part of anything at all when he reunites with his family and was absolutely floored at the opportunity to display his dueling skills to the public. tron uses the accident with rio to cut off his continued guilt + sympathy for those he hurts- experiencing the worst case scenario causes him to adapt a sort of savior complex where he inflicts "minimal" amounts of pain to others to save them from "true" pain. in his wdc duel with shark, tron mocks iii for playing right into his hands and convinces iii he'll lose his family and his fans if he loses this duel.

iii->v understands immediately that tron's revenge is dangerous, but enraged by what faker's betrayal did to his family. retains some of the cold, efficient self-interest of V but with the guilt that comes from his actions. constantly making compromises with his brothers and convincing them of tron's positive qualities and the brighter future that awaits them. realizes post haruto kidnapping that his anger blinded him to the danger he had consistently been placing his brothers in. i think in this iteration he'd confront tron/try to take his brothers away or something drastic like that only to be shut down immediately, first wdc casualty again.....

iv->iii sadistic, spoiled boy tendencies amplified due to younger sibling-isms. he has a childlike resistance to his present- he doesn't understand/doesn't care about the ways in which everyone has been forced to change and lashes out as a result. tired of trons false promises, but continues to hold onto the hope that his instruction could restore the family he misses + feels entitled to. the tsukumos wake him up to selfless love and compromise (parental sacrifice->grandma+akari, then rules, chores, etc-> enforced and obeyed) its laughably simple, but something iv has never seen. iv deigns to sacrifice himself in the final heartpiece duel as the first selfless act he conducts for his family.

iv->v loves his younger siblings, but cant help but see them as byrons second chances at raising the son he always wanted. as a result, takes *some* pleasure in seeing his siblings fail, likes to swoop in at the last minute to play hero. forced to become fairly intelligent; he fulfilled the scientist/trainer role at heartland that v did up until the faker reveal, though he feels very inadequate. tron holds this feeling over him whenever iv lashes out or tries to protect his brothers. he begins to snap out of it when his brothers are immobilized, deeply ashamed that he failed to realize his role in the sibling hierarchy has nothing to do with the fact he failed to use what power he had anyway to protect what he loved.

[legend-the-dumb-jock]

Heya, I'm pretty close to finishing my science degree but I feel like I've missed out on a great college life thanks to my constant studying. I wish I could experience what college is like for the frat guys who never worried about their studies, they must have a blast.

I’m going to do something for you that I rarely do. You’re going to be something different if a change. But you’re going to be so much at the same time. First we are going to change that college major to something that will align more with a simplistic mindset that you are going to have from this point forward. I'm thinking something in sports. Maybe something along the lines of a personal trainer. You're going to send all your free time in the gym getting your muscles defined and perfect for your new role and not thinking about a damn thing other than lifting, eating right, and getting your dick worked. But what will be different about you is that you're going to be a ginger jock. A big dumb ginger jock. stomping around the gym with some wide size 17s that stink up a room. An 11 inch knee slapper that tents your shorts even when you're not hard but when you are that's when people really see that ginger bush make you flush. You're going to have pale skin and fire red hair to set off this perfect ginger jock look too. Now that you look the part, you're going to have to act the part now. I'm going to throw in some loud obnoxious behaviors that you can't control. Farting loud from those bulbous cheeks and burping like a real man. You're going to be a sweaty disgusting hunk by the end of it. Now the only thing left, you be stuck like this for a whole week. Before graduation. The only question is will you choose to go back to your old life of books and being smart or do you want to live out this new life of a big dumb ginger buffoon.