#earn money on autopilot

[mindblowing-33]

Let's learn! How can be Made $100,000 Per Month With Bots and Automation (You Can Too!)

[houseofaproko]

[theelfsongbard]

Lazy Morning with Astarion Drabble

If anyone had told your past self that 5 years from then, they would be safe, settled and contentedly in love, you would have laughed in their face. Having a definitive place of your own to call home was never an option in the cards that you had been dealt, and the only safety you found was in being untethered to roam Faerun freely. And love? What was love other than a means to ensure you had a bed to sleep in or money in your pocket when you were in dire straits?

Yet here you are, huddled in comparative luxury to the bedrolls that you had grown accustomed to. In your own bed, under the wool blankets, arms wrapped around a man who adores you truly and wholeheartedly. Outside, the winter snow blankets the ground in a crisp blue-white and frost has crept it’s way up the window pane. For once, it’s just the two of you, even the city’s noises and clamour have died down with the weather being so inhospitable. It’s a nice change, a breather from the suffocation of always having people around you, whether it was the strangers packed on the busy streets or a well meaning friend, you delighted most of all in the simple joy of the private moments you could spend with Astarion.

Laying a gentle kiss on his shoulder, you slowly relinquish your hold around his middle as to not wake him, slipping out of bed to coax the heat back into the smouldering fireplace and put the kettle on.

It doesn’t take long for the gentle cadence of his footsteps to follow you to the kitchen, his slippers beating against the timber floor of your house like a heartbeat. Before you know it, he’s behind you, his hands slipping around your waist and his head resting on your shoulder. Sniffing, he sighs contentedly as he inhales the scent of blood as you warm it over the stove just enough while you sip on your own drink.

“Good morning, little love.” His voice is low and gravelly with the remnants of his trance.

There’s a fondness in his voice that settles over you, warming you up from the inside out despite the absence of heat. “Morning Astarion,” you tilt your head slightly, pressing your forehead against his to greet him. “Did I wake you?” Your hands work independently, on autopilot as you pour the blood into a goblet.

“I just missed feeling your warmth.” He says simply, nuzzling against you. “But fear not! I’ve brought reinforcements!” Unclasping the tie to the fluffy robe you gifted him, he opens it and wraps you up inside it like an oversized bat, earning him your giggles of delight at his early morning shenanigans. The movement is so sudden, it pushes you against him too quickly and all at once you notice the absence of his clothes underneath and his hardness at your hip.

“OH!” Your eyes widen at this unexpected but not unwelcome surprise. Heat floods your face as you realise what he’s trying to do. He never gets tired of getting you flustered and the mischievous glint in his eyes and the playful uptick of his mouth tells you all you need to know.

“Is someone feeling a little shy today? You never cease to be a surprise no matter how many times we’ve been intimate.” He coos in your ear before sweeping the goblet up from the counter, sipping it a fine like mulled wine, humming with relief. “Thank you for the drink, darling. You really know how best to make it for me.” There’s a look in his eyes that swells with adoration for you. You didn’t need to go through all the effort of heating it up, making it nice and warm for him, but you did anyways, going out of your way to provide him with small comforts that reminded him that you were his true home. But the sentimentality quickly turns into at different form of love altogether and soon he is pressing teasing kisses all over your face every now and again between sips of your drinks, savouring the warmth as it brings. It’s a tender kind of domestic love that you didn’t know you yearned for until you had it.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 11

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Alright, another double duty day.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Her name is Leslie. The nurse with her graying brown hair and square jaw arrives just before eight. You tell her your father’s still in bed as you show her around; you go through the meals you prepped in the fridge and where his meds are and everything else. Still you feel like you’re forgetting something.

“I’ll go get him up,” you say.

“Miss, that’s my job,” she insists.

“Oh.”

“Don’t you worry, I’ve got twenty years under my belt. I’m certain you can see,” she touches the silver along her hairline, “we’ll get him up and at ‘em.”

“Mm, well.. He… isn’t much of a morning person. He can be a bit grumpy,” you warn her.

“That’s for me to worry about. I earn my money, hon. You look like you’re in a hurry,” she puts a hand on her hip, “you can call me and check in, huh? I know it’s hard when you’ve been a caretaker for so long. It’s not easy handing over the reins.”

You falter. Caretaker? You never really thought of it like that. You’re his daughter. You care for him sure, but that’s just what you do. It isn’t the control, it’s feeling like you’re pawning him off on someone else. Like you’re shrugging off responsibility.

“I just… worry about him,” you say.

“That means you’re a good daughter,” she praises, “now off with you. Look at you, all dressed for work. Promise, we’ll send an update at lunch time. By then, I’ve usually got a handle on things.”

You pout and wet your lips with the tip of your tongue, “thank you.”

“It’s my job, and I love it,” she assures you.

You feel a little better as you put your shoes on and say a final goodbye. You can’t help but be nervous. What if she calls you before you can even get to work? What if your dad chases her off? He can be downright nasty when he means to.

You head off with your big leather bag, your body on autopilot as your mind races a thousand miles ahead of you. Everything happened so fast. Your phone call turned into an email and a quick placement. You can’t believe how simple it all was. That’s what puts you on edge. Nothing is ever that easy.

You shudder as you step onto the bus. There’s worry behind you and before you. Certain not to be late again, you take the earlier route. It’s a different driver. The whole change throws you off.

You get to the stop well before your shift begins. You saw a cafe just before the last stop. You teeter, wondering if you have time, or even the money. Your first check cleared and you’ve doled it out almost to the cent. Just a little left for yourself.

You retrace the route to the cafe nestled beside the park and the library. The residential area borders on the more elite properties like Mr. Laufeyson. You can only dream of living in a neighbourhood like this, where you can walk without looking over your shoulder.

The cafe is mostly empty as you enter. You don’t really go to places like this. There’s been a few times you got a tea from MacDonald’s but nothing like this. You look at the menu handwritten in chalk and squint as if trying to solve a puzzle.

“What are we looking at today, miss?” The barista greets. You can’t find the teas anywhere.

“Erm, I wanted some tea, please,” you step up to the counter.

“Sure thing. What kind?” She points to the little board beside her till. Oh.

You read the options; they all sound fancy but you prefer what you know. 

“Earl grey, please,” you order.

“Of course. Would you like a fog or plain?”

“Um, I… don’t know,” you cringe.

“No worries, fog is a latte, we steam it up and all that.”

“Uh,” you rub your neck, “I guess I could try it.”

“Alright, plain dairy?”

“Milk, yeah,” you confirm awkwardly as you dig out your coin purse.

You wait patiently after paying. Your cheeks are on fire and you take your drink with a thank you before fleeing. Another place you don’t fit. You inhale the scent of the tea but don’t taste it as the temperature burns your hand through the cardboard.

You already regret the indulgence. You don’t know why you had the thought. The idea of being so early put you off and lingering outside like a creep didn’t sound any better. You set off back towards the Laufeyson abode and blow the steam away as it sleep through the small slotted lid

The gate code, the pathway along the side of the house, the flapping birds and buzzing bees, the smell of pollen and the rustle of leaves. You leave the spring behind you as you let yourself in the back door into the grey silence. You leave your shoes on the mat and wander down the hall.

You’re met by a shadow that appears from around the staircase, almost as if expecting you. You slide to a stop in only your socks as Mr. Laufeyson wears his usual discerning expression. You grip the cup tight as foam seeps through the slot. He looks you up and down.

“That does not belong in the library,” he taps the lid.

You stare at the cup. You should’ve thought about that. You can’t have that around the nice furniture and all those books.

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson, of course,” you accept.

“So…” he glares at the cup.

“Er, Mr. Laufeyson, may I have this in the kitchen? I’m early–”

“Very well,” he allows. “I need to be mindful of time today, yes.”

You nod and retreat, surprised as he follows you into the kitchen. You set your bag at your feet and rest the cup on the counter. You take off the lid to let the heat out.

“I am to be away. I’ll need a bag packed,” he instructs, “your duties will continue in my absence, yes?”

“Mr. Laufeyson,” you put your hand to the side of the cup.

He sighs as he glances at the tea again, “finish that then report to me. I’ve a list.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

He leaves you just as abruptly. You turn to the foamy tea and frown. You’ve not even begun the day and somehow it feels like you’ve already messed up.

🧹

The suitcase awaits you at the door of Mr. Laufeyson’s room. You near and stop before the leather bag, reminded of your venture beyond that door. The disaster of your entry and frantic flight that followed. 

You try to shake it off as you grab the suitcase, the list pressing against the handle as it crinkles. You enter and peer around the space. The deja vu nearly chases you out. You cross to the bed and put the bag on top, flipping it open to begin the task.

You want this done as quickly as possible, just as Mr. Laufeyson directed. You smooth out the paper to find his long cursive in neat lines. You can admire the artistry of his hand. Your own writing would look juvenile in comparison.

In the bathroom, you gather up the noted toiletries into a pouch that matches the luggage. It feels intrusive but you try not to think. It’s simple, like an inventory. Nothing deeper than that. The rich scent wafts from the little vial of cologne as you slip it through the zipper, clinging to your fingertips even as you seal it up.

You take the little bag into the room and start on gathering the clothes. A number of shirts and slacks, socks and briefs, ties and cuff links, even shoes. There is no specification of which ones. You slide open the closet and peruse the varying dark shades, only a few crisp white shirts to break the tone, though the ties and pocket square have more diversity.

You’re overwhelmed by the selection. Your own dresser contains as many shirts and pants as you can count. Your newly bought work clothes have proven troublesome as you don’t have anywhere to store them. His own wardrobe is extravagant in both quality and quantity when compared to your own.

You take out a deep blue shirt. It’s satiny and sleek. You’re not sure it’s fit for a family visit. You can assume that’s where he’s off to, though he didn’t confirm it outright. He just handed you the list and shooed you away.

You trade it for a plainer fabric but a similar hue. You take out three as noted on the page and lay them out neatly. Next the trousers. Those will have to match the tops. You hadn’t thought of that though the list is more helpful in this manner; only two pairs, one brown and one black. 

Right, but what shade of brown? Tan or dark or somewhere in the middle. Or those ones with the light blue plaid pattern. It’s a bit warm for wool so definitely not that. No tweed either. You grab a black pair and turn back to solve the riddle of what shade of brown to choose.

As you move the hangers slowly over the rod, a scuff from the hallway interrupts your browsing. You don’t look over as you assume it’s own Mr. Laufeyson on his way to his study. You’re surprised as instead he sweeps into the room without announcement, muttering to himself as he does.

“One thing after another,” he murmurs as he tugs on his tie, tearing it loose completely to toss it towards the bed. You’re completely stunned by his entrance, “I swear…”

He nears as if you aren’t even there, his long fingers fleetly unbuttoning his shirt. You blink and back away, averting your eyes from the wet spots spattered across the evergreen linen. You clear your throat and scuttle towards the bed.

“Sorry,” you babble as you try to sidle past him. Flashbacks of that day tinge your memory once more. This time the bed does not obscure your sight.

“You will have someone tend to that damnable sink,” he demands.

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you answer without looking back as you hurry to the door.

“Not this moment, you’re not done packing,” he snaps, “where are you going?”

“Mr. Laufeyson, I just–” you peek at him as he unbuttons his cuffs and rips the shirt down his shoulders. You get a glimpse of his muscles chest and thick arms, “I can come back.”

“You will finish what you started,” he shakes his head as he dumps the shirt onto the bed and turns to face the closet. His back is just as finely formed. You try not to notice as you put your focus to the floor. “I only need a new shirt.”

He flicks through the hangers and pulls out a new piece, shaking it out before slipping his arms into it. You return to the bed and pick up the list. The brown slacks. He doesn’t budge as he buttons his new shirt. 

“I do intend to leave today so do not tarry,” he girds.

You flinch and near him. He does not move as you come up to the closet and grab the first pair of brown pants you see. He catches your hand, squeezing it around the hanger as he tisks.

“Not those ones,” he guides your arm as he rehooks the hang on the bar. He draws your grasp off and leads it to another pair, “these will do.”

He lets you go as your hand tingles. As his shirt remains only half-buttoned, it feels strangely intimate. You take the pants and swiftly back away. You go to the bed again and focus on fitting everything into the bag.

You sense him lingering behind you. You hear his fingers work at the buttons then the soft tuck of his shirt tails into his pants, the clink of his buckle as he adjusts his belt. You take the list again, half-pretending to read it. 

“I put thought to it,” he stands at the foot of the bed, watching you. The weight of his gaze is like the blazing heat of an open fire. It makes you want to melt. “The gazebo. I would like to have an assessment. If it proves salvageable, then let it be restored.”

You nod as you turn to find the socks noted on the list in the small drawer of the tall dresser. You count them out and spin back. He lowers himself onto the bed, bending one leg up as leans on one hand.

“Have a carpenter in and have them leave an estimate. We’ll review on my return.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you gulp.

He makes no move to leave. He remains, his gaze unwavering. Is this some test? Is it suspicion? You peek over as he pulls his arm back and tugs his cuff over the black and blue watch. Does he think you’ll secret away a silk tie or a pair of socks?

You keep on, with no other option. You have nothing to prove, you know you’re an honest person. You move the pouch into the bag as he hums thoughtfully. You keep your hands moving as you try to fit everything neatly inside. 

You look up at him, steeling yourself as you find his green eyes pinpointed on you, “Have I forgotten something, Mr. Laufeyson?”

You stop your hands, clutching tight the fabric in them. He smirks and his eyes fall down. You follow them and find yourself grasping a pair of his briefs. Your lips part and you quickly tuck them in with the rest.

“No, I think you’ve been quite thorough,” he slithers and rises from the bed, “I will be off in an hour, I expect to find my bag by the door.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

[broken-freedom]

Nina can you write a blurb or one shot of Eren going to the strip club one day and discovers that Y/N is a stripper plus she doesn’t want anyone to know her secret that’s why she doesn��t tell anyone. One day he catches her and in order for Eren to keep her huge secret she has to give him more than a lap dance in the back room if you know what I’m saying 😏

• Your Little Secret •

Word Count: 1.9K

CW: lap dance, humiliation (?), face riding. 

A/N: It took me forever I know, but hey! It is now done at least! Enjoy ;) 

Your worst nightmare became reality the moment your eyes locked with his in the middle of your performance. You managed to keep your “job” a secret from every single person you know for 4 long years only to be discovered by the one person you hate the most.

 It started as a little extra support, because let’s be honest, who can afford to pay all this money every semester for 4-5 years atop of all other life expenses? You left home as soon as you graduated from high school and even with the extra shifts you were picking up here and there, the bills were left unpaid. When one day you were working as a waitress, serving dinner and cleaning tables, an older man slipped a note in your hand as he paid you a farewell, one you thought was a generous tip to conclude the good service you provided, or at least .. you hoped. You shoved the note in your back pocket and resumed working. 

After your shift ended, you opened the note to only find a number and a few words scribbled messily underneath “I can provide you more, somewhere else.” The note creeped you for days, but one afternoon you were desperate, unpaid bills everywhere, unsubmitted assignments alerts filling your school’s email. How are you supposed to find time to study when you are practically overworking yourself to be able to pay for rent, classes, gas and food?!

You ran to the note and with shaky hands opened it and dialed the number. 

“H- hello …?”  you start nervously. 

“I was waiting for your call” you hear the man on the other side of the line talking with such confidence.

Turns out to be a stripping job that the owner of the club saw you and thought you would be able to earn a little extra doing that instead of serving food and relying heavily on tips. Without a second thought you accepted, the number he offered you would solve 99% of your problems and you only needed to work 3 days per week. In the other 4 you can actually focus on your education and get your degree to find a better job for yourself that can fully support you. 

You managed to keep your little job a secret from your friends and classmates. Yes it is a small town, but who would go to a strip club on a Tuesday evening while needing to be in class first thing in the morning the next day? And it worked, for four years, you buried the truth intending to never admit it out loud, not even to yourself, until today….

The day where your secret comes out and everyone will know about it because of him. 

You were in the middle of your seductive movement taking off the little excuse of a bra as a part of your dance when you locked eyes with him. You feel your whole world crashing at once. The air around you is thick and making it hard to breathe. The room you’re in suddenly turns 100 degrees and rising. You meet his amused gaze with a  mortified one, feeling sick to your stomach. Your body is moving as you do every time performing your seductive dance as if you were on autopilot but your brain is flashing alarms at you to run away from his burning stare. The way his eyes are twinkling looking at you makes you sick, and you would love to smack that shit-eating grin out of his face, but you sadly have to carry the dance.

“Eren Fucking Jaeger..  Why is he here? We have a test tomorrow! Shouldn’t he be studying?” 

The more you wonder, the wider his grin gets, making you clench your teeth to prevent yourself from screaming from the top of the stage. 

Your thoughts are running 100 miles per hour but also trying to keep your cool as much as possible replacing the mixed facial expressions of disgust and anger with a much calmer and relaxed one. The show has to carry on no matter what. 

 Your body swaying left and right to the beat of the slow tone music as your own hands cupping and grabbing at your skin starting from your thighs to your hips, to finally settle on your tits. You try to keep your mind off him and focus on your work, you’ll have to deal with him later. But he makes it so hard for you with him whistling and cheering at your every movement, feeling his flame-filled gaze on your bare back even when you can’t see him. 

The moment the music dies to a stop you rush off stage and run in your heels to shield yourself from his prying eyes, you strip in front of thousands of people without care, but not him, not Eren. He will make sure to turn your life into a living hell now he knows your secret. You’ll have to run away, change your name, and find a new life elsewhere. But it doesn't always end up as you want as Eren catches up to you and holds your wrist preventing you from going further into the dressing room. 

“What do you want Eren?!” you try to yank your hand out of his grasp but no success since he is way stronger than you. “Oh why so shy now darling, you were ready to drop your panties for me not a minute ago?” He holds your gaze daringly. “I also paid for a lap dance, would never miss the chance of having Ms. perfect dancing half naked in my lap” 

“Not in your wildest dreams! Let me go right now!” You try to push him away with your other hand, but he is faster, holding both of your hands now and pulling you closer to his chest, hovering over your face and smirking devilishly “You were the last person to come to mind when I asked for the best.. You? The best? Got to try to believe it .. or do you want your secret to make it past the walls of this building?” He twists you around and pushes you to walk in front of him to the same hallway you were going to earlier, not to your dressing room, but to the private room right next to it. 

You want to keep your job, it still pays the bills, but also needs to find a way to keep Eren from exposing you to everyone you know, you walk with him as you think, and think, and think, you need to have the upper hand in this situation, but knowing how evil Eren is, you will need to calculate your next step carefully.

You get inside the private room and push Eren to sit on the sofa, his hungry eyes exploring every inch of your body as you make your way to the pole in the center of the room. “Someone changed her mind” Eren chuckles thinking to himself how easily you got manipulated to do exactly what he wants. You wouldn’t want anyone to find out about this after all, and from who? So you’ll have to do what he tells you to do. 

You grab the pole, bending your body ever so slowly, giving Eren a full view of your puffed pussy strangled by the thong. A loud whistle coming from behind you reminding you of who is actually sitting there watching your every movement. You close your eyes shut trying to steady your breathing and carry on your plan. Slowly but seductively you make your way towards Eren pushing his knee apart so you can stand in between and reaching for his necktie to untie it “Hands behind your back Jaeger, club’s policy” He does what you tell him to do, hypnotized by how good you smell and you tie his hands behind his back. You bend over as you sway your hips pushing your tits closer to his face. The way he gulps the closer you get to him tells you that what you are doing is correct and gives you the energy you need to continue. You pull the string of your bra down exposing your boobs as you straddle Eren’s lap. Watching the teasing gaze drop from his face gives you satisfaction when you start grinding on him wanting to torture him. The more you grind the louder he growls “ Fuck …”  wanting more, and now you can feel him more. Erected, desperate, and wanting more, and you give him more by pushing your weight down on his cock but stand back on your feet quickly “wha- … why?” his confused tone makes you giggle. 

With one swift motion, you place one leg on Eren’s shoulder, reaching your hand to teasingly rub your clothed clit before you pull the string to the side exposing your wet pussy to Eren’s widening eyes. “You did not pay for this but I am feeling like giving you a special treatment today” 

The closer you get to Eren’s face the more he understands what you want to do “why are you doing this?” “Because I can, isn’t that obvious?” “But you- …” you cut him off when your pussy makes contact with his lips, tongue darting out immediately to taste the sweetness of your essence dropping into his mouth. He moans, loud, and you enjoy the scene of his eyes rolling back. Grinding his clothed cock was fun, he made cute noises, but riding his face is even more thrilling. His whole diameter changed and it is pleasing to watch. You pinch your nipples in between your fingers speeding the process, Eren thrusting his tongue inside your pussy with his nose pressed against your clit is more than enough to send you to cloud nine, drenching Eren’s face with cream liquid and a few drops falling into his shirt staining it white. Your legs shake and you try to steady yourself by putting your leg back on the floor, Eren is quiet, he is more surprised than you are by how your actions silenced him, but his eyes are screaming at you. You look at his flushed, wet face with amusement, his hands still tied behind him. One final step before you conclude your plan.

You drop to your knees in front of Eren, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants to take his raging cock out, fully hard and leaking in your palm “what a pretty cock, Jaeger” you smirk giving Eren’s cock a few pumps making him growl in response. You keep your eyes locked with his as you bend lowering your head, but before your lips reach his tip, you tear your eyes away from Eren’s looking at his length in your hand “what a shame for a cock this nice to be attached to an asshole like you” and you spit on it before you stand up and start backing up to go to your room to change “keep your mouth shut Jaeger, or I know a way to keep it useful other than talking shit about others” 

Even though he never actually planned on telling a living soul about your little secret. He’ll still come to spite you every once in a while, and to get you to sit on his face again… 

xXx

[via-veronaville]

Gameplay Overhaul

Note: This list is under construction.

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Nraas Mods

All mods can be downloaded from Nraas.net.

Nraas Career (Part Time, School, Self-Employed, Tones)

Nraas Consigner

Nraas Debug Enabler

Nraas Decensor

Nraas Dresser

Nraas Error Trap

Nraas Go Here

Nraas Home Opener

Nraas Master Controller (Cheats, Integration, Progression)

Nraas Mover

Nraas OnceRead (Tablet)

Nraas Overwatch

Nraas Register

Nraas Relationship Panel

Nraas Relativity

Nraas Retuner

Nraas Saver

Nraas Second Image

Nraas Shooless

Nraas Sleep Freedom

Nraas Story Progression (Career, Relationship, Skill)

Nraas Tempest

Nraas Traffic

Nraas Traveler

Nraas Vector

Nraas Woohooer (Kama Simtra, Scoring)

Nraas Written Word

Autonomy

Auto Clean Plates by TonyTajiri

Autonomous Wash Hands After Toilet Use by moveobjects

No Autonomous "Check Out New Object" by blyss

No Autonomous Computer Use by SaladWithKoRn

No Autonomous Go Home for Horses by KittyTheSnowcat

No Autonomous Pranks by champslessims

No Autonomous Read Something by rainbowtwilight

No Autonomous Plasma Packs by Shan-Chan

No Autonomous Snubbing by hdggDalton

No Autonomous Tell Ghost Story by sweetdevil

No Autonomous Use Laptop on the Ground by NanaBx3

No More Heckle by CyberBob78

Reduce/Remove Lag caused by Houseboats (Stop Autopilot Helm) by marydehoyos

Economy

Appropriately Higher Grant Money by Madam_Doofie

Minimum Wage/More Realistic Earnings, Higher Tuition, Higher Boarding School Costs, Higher Grant Money

Pay to give bottle & change diaper by FloTheory

Higher bills (or no bills) and less CAS money by cheeroke

Job Overhaul by gamefreak130

No Free Quick Meals by icarus_allsorts

Routing and Spawning

Fix: Sims Need Less Space by OhRudi

Fix: Pets Need Less Space by OhRudi

Chance of Getting Imaginary Friend by ProtectusCZ

General Fixes and Changes

Longer or Shorter Pregnancies, Puddles and More! by AgentTexas

Get to Know Fix + by simsbouquet

NPC Behavior

Simlane - Traffic Speed by BoringBones

[dragonflylady77]

i know how i feel about you now

This fic is my present for @spaceofentropy for the Harringrove Corner discord server's valentine exchange (you can find the whole collection right here).

Find the fic on Ao3

Thank you @whenyouwishuponastar7 and @discodeviant for the chance, it was so much fun. <3

Without further ado, I present to you... LIMO DRIVER STEVE!!

Billy is back in Hawkins for Max and Lucas's wedding. He might have expected a limo to take them to the church. He wasn't prepared for the limo driver to be Steve Harrington...

“Billy, can you get the door? That should be the limo driver.”

Billy rolled his eyes. A fucking limo?! Was Susan for real?

As he made his way to the front door, Billy decided that he was surprised that a bumfuck town like Hawkins, Indiana, actually had a limo service.

He pulled on the stupid bowtie his sister was making him wear and straightened the jacket of his tuxedo, muttering about Max being lucky he loved her so much he let her use his hard-earned money to pay for the most ridiculous things for her wedding as he opened the door and froze.

Billy simultaneously thanked his lucky stars and wished for the ground to open and swallow him, for, on the front porch of the house he’s helped Susan buy after his dad had fucked off into the sunset, stood his high school crush and former kinda nemesis.

“Well, well, well, Harrington. Long time no see.” Billy couldn’t help the teasing lilt in his voice, dragging his eyes down the length of the man’s body then back up. The black suit and tie he was wearing looked on the cheap side but fit him rather well. His hair was a bit longer than it had been in high school and fuck, he looked good.

“H-Hargove. Hi.” Steve sounded as shocked as he looked, his hands visibly tightening over the driver’s cap he was holding.

Billy forced himself to move his eyes away from Steve’s fingers, instead dragging them to the beauty spots on his neck and hollered, “Maxine, your fancy ride is here!”. He ignored the chattering coming from the living room at his words, knowing Max had been ready to go for some time, despite Susan’s need to find something else that needed doing or fixing.

“Coming!” Max called out, and a moment later she appeared in the doorway, her long red hair plaited in an intricate way and decorated with little sparkling threads.

The ivory dress she was wearing was the one she had picked when she’d come visit Billy in Chicago for the weekend a few months back, and Billy knew it had sparked a long drawn out fight with Susan. Max had won, of course. There was no way she wanted to wear the dress her mother had worn for her wedding to Neil Hargrove and Billy would never fault her for that, traditions be damned.

Billy now knew way more about capped sleeves, sweetheart necklines and the appropriate amount of beading on a bodice that he ever expected or needed to know—wasn’t like he would ever need that knowledge for anything, being extremely gay as he was, but the resulting bonding with Max had been well worth the shopping expedition.

“I, um, I didn’t know you were back in town,” Steve said, bringing Billy’s attention back to him.

The smile stretching his mouth felt easy and he enjoyed the way Steve’s eyes widened. Billy resolved to find a moment to apologize to Steve for what had transpired between them in high school before the day was over. He had changed so much in the past decade, since getting free from under his father’s grip, and he needed to make amends.

“Oh, I’m here for the wedding. I live in Chicago.” Before he could say much more, Billy had to step out of the way so Max could walk out of the house, Susan close behind her. With a sigh, he locked the house while Steve followed the two women to the limo.

***

Steve drove them to Hawkins Presbyterian Church on autopilot, his mind still reeling and going through his interaction with Billy Hargrove.

He didn’t know what he’d expected when he’d got the booking for the Mayfield-Sinclair wedding but it certainly wasn’t to come face-to-face with the guy responsible for his bi awakening wearing a fucking tuxedo, looking like a fucking five-course meal.

As far as Steve or anyone else knew, Billy had high-tailed it back to California the second he’d graduated from high school. One day, Hargrove was walking across the stage in front of Steve, the next his Camaro had vanished in a cloud of dust. No one knew for sure where he’d gone, there had even been rumors his father may have put him in the ground but Sheriff Hopper had squashed those right quick.

Steve delivered his passengers to the church on time, then he parked the limo off to the side, dumped the stupid cap on the passenger seat, and fixed his hair as quickly as he could before following the last of the guests into the church. Lucas had made sure he had an invite but Steve didn’t feel overly comfortable joining the kids (who weren't really kids anymore) at the front of the church, behind family.

He was glad the Party were still friends, even with the Byers moving to California for a few years. He’d been there when Mrs Byers had become Mrs Hopper, right after Will and the other kids had graduated, but he didn’t feel like he was part of their group.

He found an empty row in the back and sat down. Times like these, he missed Robin. They always had the best time people-watching and making up stories about them. He was glad she’d got out, first a scholarship to college in Indianapolis then an internship in New York. She was living her best life, doing something important for some non-profit agency while he languished in Hawkins, driving a ridiculous car for people to make an entrance at events with. At least, he hadn’t ended up working that dead-end job for his father.

Steve’s introspections were cut short by the starting notes of a piano cover of All of Me by John Legend and he turned around. The doors opened and Jane walked in first, wearing a lavender colored dress, followed by Erica, in a similar outfit. Behind them stood Max and Billy, Max looking wonderful in her gown and Billy. Well…

Steve let himself stare. People would assume he was staring at the beautiful bride but his eyes never left her handsome brother. The tuxedo looked like it was made for him, the black pants hugging his thighs in a sinful way that made Steve’s pants feel a bit tighter. His hair was shorter now, darker too, and slicked back, his face with that three-day stubble that Steve was unexpectedly dying to feel against his skin.

Fuck. He willed his eyes shut but it didn’t work. The duo walked past Steve and he could have sworn Billy glanced at him as they did. The siblings finished their walk up the church aisle and Steve decided the back view was as enticing as the front.

If Billy was only there for the wedding, Steve would discreetly stare as much as he could and fill his spank bank.

***

Billy kept an eye on Steve during the reception to make sure he wasn’t leaving before they could have a little chat. He was sitting at a table towards the back of the church hall, with some people Billy didn’t recognize. Probably some of Susan’s workmates or something. He wondered why Steve wasn’t sitting at the same table as the Weird Kids Brigade.

The speeches had taken forever—Billy had kept his on the short side, but then each member of the Dork Squad had wanted to add anecdotes and fun stories about the happy couple. The food was nicer than Billy had expected and Max had punched him in the shoulder when he’d said as much, telling him to quit bitching about Hawkins.

The bridal couple had done the first dance, then he’d waltzed with Max while Lucas took a turn with Susan and now the dancing portion of the evening had finally started and Billy was free from any more obligations.

Time to find that pretty boy and get his groveling shoes on.

Billy slowly made his way to the table he’d seen Steve at but when he got there, there was no sign of him. The old biddy with the bad perm and too tight gold dress told him Steve had ducked out to check on the limo. Billy smiled as he thanked her and headed for the closest exit.

The car was easy to find, and Billy spotted Steve leaning against the side of it. Steve brought something up to his mouth and took a drag out of it. The cloud from the vape billowed around Steve and Billy had never felt jealous of an inanimate object before—it was a weird feeling.

“Those things can kill you, you know, pretty boy” he called out as he walked closer, feeling Steve’s eyes on him again and liking it. A lot.

Steve chuckled and Billy wanted to kiss him on his stupid mouth and eat the chuckle from his lips.

“About as much as those Marlboro Reds you were always sucking on in high school,” Steve said, shaking his head as Billy came to a stop a foot away from him.

“Well, yanno,” Billy started, leaning against the car next to Steve, and bumping shoulders with him.

Steve offered him the vape and when Billy shook his head, Steve shrugged and took another inhale.

“Sucking on Reds was always less likely to get me beaten to death by my old man than sucking on dick was,” Billy said, stifling a laugh when Steve choked on his mouthful of air. He patted Steve’s back a couple of times until the coughing died down.

“Jesus, Hargrove, warn a guy.”

“Sorry, man, I thought you knew.”

“That you were gay or that your dad was an asshole?”

Billy shrugged. It wasn’t like it mattered anymore. “Either. Both.”

He turned his head to look at Steve and found him staring. “What?”

“Nothing. I…” Steve shook his head and stopped talking.

Billy took it as his cue. “Anyway, I wanted to apologize to you. For how I was in high school. My home life was shit and I took it out on you and I’m sorry.”

“Thanks, Billy.” Steve put his vape back in his jacket pocket and looked down at his shoes. “Max, um, Max told the kids about how bad things were for you back then.”

“Yeah?” Billy was surprised Max had been willing to open up that much with so many people, but he guessed she’d probably told Jane and Lucas and it had spread from there.

“It was, um, once your dad had left. Once they figured he wasn’t coming back, I mean.”

It had taken a few years and a lot of therapy for Billy to get over being abandoned by another parent, even if Neil barely deserved the title. Then a lot of coaxing by Max for Billy to try and build some kind of a relationship with Susan. It had worked and they were family now. But he wasn’t about to tell Steve that. He’d come to apologize and he’d done that.

Billy rubbed a hand over his face then looked up at the sky, wondering how different life could have been if he had stayed. He wouldn’t be earning as much as he was currently as a sports agent in Chicago, that was for sure, but maybe he wouldn’t feel so lonely all the time.

“Billy?” Steve’s voice was soft and Billy felt a warm shoulder press against his. It felt nice.

“Yeah?” he whispered, keeping his eyes on the stars above them, leaning against the limo.

“Was that the only reason?” Steve moved closer and now they were touching from shoulder to hip. Billy dug his nails into the palm of his hands to stop himself from reaching out.

“What?” Billy stopped looking at the stars to look at Steve instead, confused.

“Was your dad being an asshole the only reason you were constantly riding my ass in high school?” Steve asked, that soft tone threatening to undo Billy’s composure faster than his choice of words.

Maybe it was time to tell the truth…

“No…”

“About that…” Steve reached out and slid his fingers between Billy’s and just like that, they were holding hands. Billy’s brain blue screened then rebooted when Steve moved to stand in front of him, Billy’s legs spreading without conscious thought on his part to accommodate Steve.

There was something in Steve’s brown eyes that kept Billy captive. Billy started to wonder if maybe it had always been there. He heard the words fall out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“I had a massive crush on you and I knew my dad would kill me if he found out. He moved us here from Cali after he figured out I liked guys and I couldn’t risk it, even if you hadn’t been straight.”

Steve moved his hands, fingers trailing up Billy’s arms until he could wrap them around Billy’s neck. “Meeting you made me realize I wasn’t as straight as I thought. It took me a while to work it out, and by then, you’d left Hawkins.”

“Pretty boy…” Billy’s brain was playing catch up but his body didn’t have the same problem as his hands gripped Steve’s hips and pulled him closer.

“Turns out you weren’t the only one with a massive crush…” Steve said, moving his left thigh between Billy’s legs and leaning forward.

Billy groaned at the sudden pressure on his crotch, his fingers tightening on Steve’s sides, eyelids fluttering when Steve’s mouth found his neck. “Fuck, Steve…”

“Such a mouth on you, still,” Steve said, his lips a mere inch away from Billy’s, then Billy’s brain whited out because Steve was kissing him.

It took Billy a few seconds to get with the program and start kissing Steve back, but then he was all in—hands roaming, thighs pressing, tongues tangling. Years of pining and yearning came crashing down on him and Billy was two seconds from shooting his load in his tuxedo pants when Steve ended the kiss.

Panting like they’d gone for a full quarter on the court, they stayed leaning on each other, the music from the party reaching them faintly. Billy started laughing when he recognized the song.

“Listen,” he said when Steve looked at him, a question in his eyes. Steve’s eyes crinkled when he heard the lyrics.

“Fitting…”

Can we bring yesterday back around?

'Cause I know how I feel about you now

I was dumb, I was wrong, I let you down

But I know how I feel about you now

“I’d say. Wanna get out of here, pretty boy?” Billy asked, one arm around Steve’s waist, his free hand sliding down to grab Steve’s ass. The moan that came out of Steve’s mouth was worth it.

“Yes. God. Fuck, yes, please.” Steve rested his forehead against Billy’s collarbone. His words were a bit muffled after that. “Take me away from this place, this town, this state.”

Billy laughed at how eager Steve was, then his words registered and he looked down. “Steve?”

“I’m sorry.” Steve sighed and lifted his head, avoiding eye contact. He looked dejected and lost, and it made something in Billy’s chest break. “Too much, too soon, sorry. Forget I said that. I’ll just… go home.” He attempted to take a step back but Billy moved both hands to cup Steve’s face and stop him in his tracks.

“Steven Middlename Harrington, I’ve been in love with you for literal years and now that I know you want me back, you really think I’m not gonna do everything in my power to make this work?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Billy dropped a kiss on Steve’s mouth but didn't linger. He dropped his hands to Steve’s waist again, fingers tracing along the waistband of Steve’s pants. “Do you have to drive anyone home tonight or are you free to go?”

“I’ve been done since we got here. That was my only booking today. The bridal party has arranged taxis to get home or wherever they’re headed so I could, and I quote, ‘party like it’s 1999’.”

Billy laughed at the look on Steve’s face when he used air quotes, and wondered which one of Max’s friends told him that. His money was on Henderson.

“So I have you all to myself?” he asked, feeling something warm unfurl inside his chest at the happy smile on Steve’s face.

“For as long as you want.” Steve toyed with the edges of Billy’s bowtie, his eyes dipping to Billy’s mouth then back up.

“What if I want forever?” He had to ask, okay?

Steve grinned, pulling on the ends of the bowtie and dragging it off Billy’s neck before shoving it in his pocket. “Please refer to my previous statement regarding taking me away from here.”

“Do you mean it?” Billy undid the top two buttons of his shirt, finally feeling like he could breathe properly and tangled a hand in Steve’s tie.

“Yes, Billy. I do. I love you. There’s nothing for me in Hawkins except memories and I’d rather make new ones with you.”

“Well, then, pretty boy…” Billy pulled Steve by his tie, his breath fanning on Steve’s plump bottom lip he couldn’t wait to nibble on. “Ever had sex in a limo?”

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[lazycats-stuff]

I have a stpry idea for you.

The Corinthian x male reader.

Yn had a really bad day, like really really bad, so when he got home he gave Corinthian the silent treatment. The Corinthian has tk use his southern charmᵗᵐ to get Yn to talk.

You got it Anon!

Summary: (Y/N) is having a bad day at work, so much that he ignores everything and everyone. Corinthian included. Corinthian is not having it and decides to use his southern charm to get him to talk.

Warnings: None.

(Y/N) sighed, for the nth time this day. There was so much work for one person. He truly needs a raise or a new job. If he gets a new stack of papers, he is going to set this place on fire. He can't do any paperwork anymore. He truly cant. And it seems that he needs to stay late. For the 3rd time this week. Overtime that is not paid.

Welcome to Hell.

He sighed for the nth time today, refusing to look at the big stack. He looked up and froze once he saw an intern with a huge stack of papers, heading towards his desk. He looked up to the ceiling, praying to whatever deity is willing to listen that he doesn't stop by his desk.

And of course, the intern stops by his desk.

" I'm sorry mister (L/N). "

" I don't blame you, I blame our boss. " (Y/N) said, standing up.

He went to the break room, leaving the intern behind. The poor kid is not blame here and he didn't want to snap at him. He couldn't do that to the kid who simply wanted to earn some money and get some experience.

He opened the door to the break room, but jumped back once he felt bumping into somebody. With a hot cup of coffee in their hands. He hissed in pain as he felt the hot coffee on his skin, even through the fabric of his shirt. He quickly moved the damp patch away from his stomach, trying not to get a 1st degree burn.

" Shit! " (Y/N) cursed at the coworker.

The coworker started apologizing and (Y/N) simply accepted, moving into the break room, quickly taking napkins and wiping the coffee of off his skin. Why is this happening to him?

He quickly washed it off and looked at his shirt. The big brown smudge bothered him. He frowned at the smudge. He was going to burn this place down one day.

" Shit... " He said to himself.

Once he was done with the half the stack of papers, he was packing up to go home. He stayed an hour late and he was exhausted. For the 3rd time this week. He has just hoped to leave because he didn't want to see the boss, he didn't want to get any more work at this point.

" (Y/N), just the man I was looking for. " He said, walking up to (Y/N).

(Y/N) didn't say anything, he simply nodded in acknowledgement. He didn't want to say anything rash and he definitely didn't want to snap at the man. He does sign his paychecks after all.

" I need you to stay behind tomorrow as well. "

" Well sir, if those hours are not going to be compensated, I'm not going to stay behind. I am exhausted and I don't feel well. "

His boss seemed shocked to hear him say that. It seems that he didn't hear anybody say that to him.

" We are already short staffed as it is (Y/N)! You can't bail out on us! "

" Well, that is not my fault, that is your fault. And my health is more important then to pay for your mistakes. Now, if you are going to excuse me, I am leaving. Good night. "

(Y/N) quickly left, not wanting to continue this conversation with his boss. He simply wants to crash right now. He frowned once he exited the building, but couldn't find his car keys, but then remembered. The car was at the mechanic's. Shit. This is going to be a long walk back home.

He sighed and got started. He looked up to the dark sky. It was far too dark for his liking. He could only hope that the rain doesn't fall right now. The first drop made him lose hope.

Corinthian glanced at the clock, then glancing outside at the rain falling down.

He hoped that (Y/N) is somewhere nearby, knowing that he was at work. He didn't like it. His lover was exhausted and simply moving on autopilot, barely able to function.

He remembers how he had to feed (Y/N) once. He chuckled at the memory and put the book away. Maybe he should go see where his boyfriend, just to make sure...

He didn't have to, since (Y/N) walked through the door.

" Hey darling'. How was work? " He asked from the couch, glancing at the remote, before turning to look at his boyfriend.

He didn't get anything in return. Okay. Maybe he simply didn't hear him. Or maybe he is mad about something. Because (Y/N) usually greets him with a kiss and a hug. No ifs or anything like that, Corinthian always get his hugs and kisses.

He frowned once he hear a sniffle in the bathroom and then the shower. Okay, something has happened to (Y/N). He needs to break him out of the trance and make him talk.

After the shower, (Y/N) moved to the bedroom, sniffling on the bed, seemingly forgetting that the Corinthian was in his apartment, worried about his lover.

He needs to get him to talk. So, he is using one of the things that he knows will make him talk.

His southern charm. The one he uses to seduce and make (Y/N)'s knees wobbly.

" Why darling, what's got you so worked up? Hmmm? " Corinthian asked, sitting down next to (Y/N)'s lying form. (Y/N) curled into himself more, trying to make himself smaller.

" Did something happen at work? Did somebody tried to do something to you? Do I need to kill somebody honey bun? "

Corinthian smiled when he heard a watery laugh from (Y/N).

" What happened hun? If you need me to kill somebody, I will. "

(Y/N) moved to lay his head down on Corinthian's lap. Corinthian got the hint and started scratching (Y/N) as if he is a cat. Behind the ears, or caressing his head.

" Now, what happened? "

" I had so much work today, then I got coffee spilt on me and my boss wanted me to stay behind tomorrow... And I told him no, then I got soaked by the rain... And... I'm sorry for ignoring you. "

" Don't be hun, it's normal for wanting to shut off. But just know, if you need a talk, I am right here. "

He moved his hands down to caress (Y/N)'s face.

" I know... I know. "

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[worldweaverofmediocrity]

IQ Reacts Progress

Kazuma and Aqua were shown as Luna’s autopilot brain swapped back on.

“Adventurers each have their own occupations.” Luna said before she pointed to the card. “This is your registration card. It keeps track of how many monsters you’ve vanquished.”

“So, you don’t have to cut off the ears or other body parts to confirm the kill?” Satoru said, left hand on chin.

“We are not backwards hillbillies!” Darkness said, fists clutched at her side.

“Besides, if all the adventurers are looking for is cut off ears.” Aqua said with a shrug. “Then the natural thing to do is to make a monster breeding farm, cut off the associated body part, sell the part, and then use the money to expand your breeding facilities. Which will eventually get exposed and release far more monsters than originally was.”

Albedo closed her eyes and mentally groaned at such an easy answer to raise money, which she and Demiurge completely missed. Then not one of Lord Satoru’s operatives would lack for money in the human world. Demiurge resisted the urge to slap himself upside the head with his tail as he came to the same conclusion.

“Okay, I get why Albedo and Demiurge didn’t think of that because they have to run Nazarick and deduce Lord Satoru’s plots to take over the world respectively.” Aura thought, head in her hands with Mare gently rubbing her head. “But I am the Beastmaster, so I should have thought of that myself! Hey, for that matter, why don’t we see if Mare could grow one of the rare (for the New World) plants and harvest those to give to Lord Satoru’s Momon Persona. Which would increase his fame because he can now accurately identify AND harvest rare plant materials.”

I could have the Lizardmen see if they have any other rare resources suitable for trade to human settlements. Cocytus thought. Then have Lord Satoru as Momon formally meet them and bring trade. Increasing his fame not only as a Human Hero, but as a Hero of many races.

Satoru placed a hand on his forehead. “Oh, I am such a dumbass for not thinking of that. It would certainly give Aura and Mare something to do so that they aren’t bored.”

Aqua gave half-lidded glares to the Nazarick crew. “[Geniuses], Suuuuure.”

“As your level increases, you’ll earn points that you can use to learn skills, so please work hard to raise your level.” Luna said as she folded her hands in front of her waist.

A blue crystal orb was shown, yellow and light gray metal formed a clockwork machination around the orb. Below the orb were three cyan laser focusing discs. The Card Maker was held up by two dark gray claws.

“Now, both of you, please hold your hands over this crystal.” Luna asked.

The camera swapped to show Kazuma reaching to the crystal. Aqua was interested in the clockwork of the Card Maker.

“Like this?” the boy asked.

With a click and the sound of a film reel rolling, the crystal lit up with an inner like as the clockwork spun. Which prompted an amazed [ha] to spill from Kazuma’s lips. Cyan bubbles gathered in the crystal before they descended to the focusing lens. The clockwork clicked and swirled as a violin played over the fantastically rendered CGI. the focusing lens, more like small bowls as the camera zoomed in and provided clarity, wobbled as the cyan bubbles passed through them to reach the needle at the bottom.

With a soft electronic whistle, the needle tip glowed and shot the concentrated bubbles down at the card. Etching into it the details of Kazuma.

“With this, you will each learn your current status,” Luna said as the laser wrote down Kazuma’s name. “So please choose your desired occupation based on your stats.”

The laser-pen was shown from below, looking like a saucer-type final boss. The laser passed over the camera twice before we returned to Kazuma’s very invested face.

“Here it comes!” Kazuma leaned closer. “Now my tremendous latent abilities will be made apparent, and there’ll be an uproar throughout the guild!”

“I mean…” Kazuma scratched his left cheek. “I guess I did receive it, with that sheer delay of leveling up.”

“You also did get it because of Aqua.” Megumin and Darkness said.

[weight-loss-ok]

Forget Crash Diets – Here’s How to Lose Weight Forever

The question I hear most often from my clients is: “Will the weight come back after the diet?” In this article, I will answer it and also debunk a couple of myths that hold us back. We are all adults who can think for ourselves. When we want something, we mentally open a “project” called “I want”, which includes setting goals and estimating timeframes and resources required to achieve the goal.

Often our “projects” are focused on material things – a new phone, car, apartment, shoes, diploma, etc. We are used to thinking in material terms. But when we finally open an “I want a new body” project, we don’t realize how different this project is.

The Consumer Society Mindset

Let’s consider a prototypical hero of our time – a young man who wants a new iPhone. Or it could be an older businessman who wants the new Range Rover model. The point is, they decide to achieve their goal by earning money or taking out a loan. It’s good and worthy to work towards your goals rather than complain and do nothing. The iPhone is pretty cool, girls look at you with respect, and our hero chooses a job that pays more. But did he like that job in the first place?

Go to Google and search for “Monday demotivator” and then “Friday demotivator” – you’ll see from social media monitoring that every Friday is a holiday in a consumer society, while every Monday brings mourning. We have a Friday cult.

In a consumer society, it’s standard to hate your job. You’re supposed to be in a state of intifada with your boss. You’re supposed to love your paycheck. And it’s through this suffering, discomfort, and self-denial that our young man finally acquires the coveted iPhone.

Following the pattern, he immediately tells his hated job to go to hell now that he has the iPhone. But then he discovers the fundamental difference between his body and the iPhone. If you quit your hated job, the iPhone stays with you unchanged. But if you quit your hated lifestyle, your body will soon revert to reflect your current reality. This is inevitable due to the law of conservation of energy. We can’t gain weight while our energy expenditure is less than our intake. Trying to violate this law is like trying to create a perpetual motion machine. 

So whenever I hear “I barely eat anything and still gain weight”, I recommend applying for the Nobel Prize. Because either it’s not true, or you have proof that overturns the law of conservation of energy.

Conclusion: Your appearance depends not on the type of diet but on your current lifestyle. If you change your diet, your appearance will change over time. After a diet, the weight will always come back. How quickly? That depends only on your genetics and whether your weight loss was accompanied by increased metabolism. To continually improve your appearance, there is only one way – never go on a diet. Switch to proper nutrition, forever.

The Hard vs Easy Way

Now I’ll compare the hard and easy ways to lose weight, first just by their feelings and effects, and then explain what they are.

Hard way: leads to yo-yo-ing between weight loss and regain, with increasing amplitude. Each time it gets harder to lose weight.

The easy way: slowly but surely improve your appearance.

Hard way: Each time involves the agony of giving up your favorite foods.

The easy way: involves discomfort for about 2 weeks to 1 month maximum.

Hard way: Pleasure comes not from the taste of food, but from the amount consumed. The easy way provides 10x more pleasure from smaller amounts of food.

Hard way: reduces the quality of life.

The easy way: increases the quality of life.

Hard way: saps your energy and ability to enjoy life.

The easy way: frees up energy and time to enjoy life.

Hard way: requires constant monitoring and control.

The easy way: runs on autopilot, requiring zero time for control.

And of course, the hard way unfortunately damages health, while the easy way improves it.

Are you intrigued yet? Don’t be scared by what I’m about to tell you – it is true and much simpler to implement than you think.

The hard way involves regularly going on diets, changing your diet, and sticking to it until you lose weight. When you finish the diet after reaching your goal, the weight comes back.

The easy way is…to eat properly like I’ve described, forever. Never “go on a diet.” I know it sounds crazy and unrealistic. So let me explain in detail:

Never “go on a diet.”

1. As mentioned, our body isn’t an iPhone. Once you’ve earned a physique, it won’t stay with you if you change the conditions for your body. So yo-yo-ing between diets inevitably leads to weight fluctuations back and forth. And with muscle loss during caloric deficits, it gets harder each time. Remember, more muscle makes it easier to burn fat. I’ll explain this later.

2. Starting a diet is always stressful – changing your normal rhythm, meal sizes, and calories, and giving up your favorite foods. And worst of all – you’re waiting for it to end. Our psychology is such that if we commit to temporarily giving up a pleasure, we immediately start counting down the days. Just one more month, one more week, three more days, tomorrow, hooray! Between hating our reflection and hating everything around us on a diet, our whole life passes.

Proper nutrition forever is very different. Once you decide to permanently give up the products that may taste good but steal your health and physique, you simply develop the habit once. Then it completely stops bothering you.

I smoked 1.5 packs a day for years. When I left the house, I’d automatically pat my pockets – keys, car docs, money, phone, lighter, cigarettes. Did you ever see a smoker complain about how hard it is to carry a lighter and cigarettes? Sounds silly, right?

Now when I leave home, the habit is the same – keys, car docs, money, phone, food bag. That’s it. It’s just a habit, and a habit doesn’t bother you like anything else once formed.

3. The pleasure we get from life is not absolute. There is a sort of conditional “quality of life” score. It can be low at €1,000,000 income, and high at $2,000. It’s subjective and unrelated to money, food, or cars. It depends on your assessment of these things. Suppose you’re relatively satisfied now. You get pleasure from your favorite foods, the sun is shining, and the girls are smiling.

I have a black box here. Imagine your favorite food. Now, at the bottom of this box is a food 10x better tasting than your favorite. So incredibly tender, airy, and delicious that your favorite tastes like dog feces in comparison. I promise it’s true. But I won’t show it to you or even say its name. Attention – will you now suffer sleepless nights over this? Will the sun and smiling girls stop bringing you joy?

No, because you know this product exists but are not addicted to it. You’ll keep getting pleasure from your current situation. It’s the same once you forget the chemical hit of a burger after a month or two of eating properly. You automatically start seeking pleasure from available options – more attention to other foods, music, clothes, and socializing. Because you’re no longer waiting for “the diet to end”, you’re forced to find replacements. And you will.

4. There is a tactic called a “cheat meal”. I don’t use or recommend it anymore, but it has its place. The idea is that once, not a whole day but one meal every 2-3 weeks, you can splurge on any junk food. With proper small frequent meals, this won’t impact your physique or metabolism at all. But since it’s rare, you get 10x more pleasure from it.

It’s very different in normal life or during dieting. Having constant access to eat whatever, whenever, leads to blunting of pleasure. We adapt. The only way to prolong the high becomes increasing the dosage. Order two large fries instead of one small. And so on. Does this method work for everyone? Unfortunately no. If you have a real food addiction identical to alcoholism or heroin addiction, it is not a joke, and cheat meals are contraindicated. One sign of addiction is losing control of dosing.

If you’ve found yourself planning to have a small taste of something but then snapping out of it with an empty fridge, you cannot stop – you have a disease like alcoholism. Happily, it is far easier to beat than ethanol or opiate addictions. But cheat meals won’t work.

5. Points 5 and 6 are very related so I’ll cover them together. As I’ve said, our goal is to start and stick to the new life. For busy people like us with jobs, school, relationships, or hobbies, the #1 rule must be simplification. The changes should simplify rather than complicate life, then they are advantageous.

Rule #2 is any action that becomes a habit stops bothering us. Offering temporary diet solutions goes against this – the industry profits from keeping you cycling between diets, binges, weight loss, and gain, buying junk food and medicine, and paying and paying forever in an endless loop. And believing you need professional dieticians, who are often just as overweight. Yes, welcome to consumer society.

So when you decide to switch to the new lifestyle forever rather than briefly before summer or a vacation, you simply form the habit once. Then it completely stops bothering you. I smoked for years without complaining about the need to carry cigarettes and a lighter.

Now it’s the same with my food bag when I leave home. It’s just a habit and doesn’t bother me any more than another other habit. This frees time and energy for business, school, or other priorities. Very different from when you crash diet a couple of times a year, breaking habits over and over. That’s a fast road to insanity.

And finally, the last point is obvious – steady, balanced eating versus erratic binging on junk food mixed with dieting.

So in summary

– Our appearance permanently depends on genetics and current lifestyle. Change your diet and your appearance changes over time.

– After a diet, the weight always returns. How quickly depends on your genetics and if metabolism increased.

– To continually improve, there is only one way – never “go on a diet.” Switch to proper nutrition forever.

– Switching to proper eating forever is far easier and provides more pleasure than it seems.

– Rule #1 is simple. Changes should simplify life to be beneficial.

– Rule #2 is habits stop bothering us. The industry profits by keeping solutions temporary so you keep returning and paying.

I’ve given my opinion. I know many aren’t ready to go all the way but want to lose weight by summer or an event. Despite my blog being about starting and sticking to the new life, not getting a 6-pack for the beach, I can’t leave you in need. I will answer your questions.

Read my articles, and tell friends. It’s always more fun together. And remember what I always say – the ability to think is the key. The miser pays twice, the fool three times, but the person too lazy to think pays forever. Bye for now!

[we-antivirusassistant]

Amazon Affiliate Autopilot Auto Blog Store Website

About This Gig

Amazon Affiliate Autopilot Auto Blog Store Website: A Comprehensive Guide to Automating Your Online Business

Are you looking for a way to make money online without having to put in too much effort?

If so, then an Amazon affiliate autopilot auto blog store website may be the perfect solution for you. With this type of website, you can easily create an automated online store that will generate passive income for you. In this article, we’ll discuss what an Amazon affiliate autopilot auto blog store website is and how it works. We’ll also provide some tips on how to get started with your own automated online store.

What Is an Amazon Affiliate Autopilot Auto Blog Store Website?

An Amazon affiliate autopilot auto blog store website is a type of website that allows you to create an automated online store that will generate passive income for you. This type of website uses Amazon’s affiliate program to promote products from their marketplace and earn commissions when customers purchase those products through your site. The great thing about this type of website is that it requires minimal effort on your part as all the work is done automatically. All you have to do is set up the site and let it run on its own.

How Does It Work?

The first step in setting up your Amazon affiliate autopilot auto blog store website is to sign up for the Amazon Associates program. Once you’ve done this, you can start creating content for your site by writing reviews and articles about products from the Amazon marketplace. You can also use images and videos from the marketplace as well as other sources such as YouTube or Flickr. Once your content is ready, you can add links back to the product pages on Amazon so that customers can purchase them directly from your site. When they do so, you will earn a commission from each sale made through your site.

The next step is to set up an automated system that will post new content regularly on your site without any manual intervention from you. This can be done using plugins such as WordPress or other content management systems (CMS). You can also use RSS feeds or other services such as IFTTT (If This Then That) which allow you to automate tasks such as posting new content or sending out emails when new products are added to the marketplace.

Once everything is set up, all that’s left for you to do is sit back and watch as your automated online store generates passive income for you without any additional effort on your part!

Benefits of Using an Amazon Affiliate Autopilot Auto Blog Store Website -

There are many benefits associated with using an Amazon affiliate autopilot auto blog store website including:

• Passive Income: As mentioned above, one of the main benefits of using this type of website is that it allows you to generate passive income without having to put in any additional effort after setting it up initially.

• Low Maintenance: Another great benefit of using this type of website is that it requires minimal maintenance once it has been set up properly. All the work involved in keeping it running smoothly will be done automatically by the plugins or services used in setting it up initially.

• Increased Visibility: Having a presence on the internet can help increase visibility for both yourself and any products or services offered through your site which could lead to more sales and commissions earned over time.

• Cost-Effective: Setting up an automated online store with this type of website requires minimal upfront costs compared with traditional brick-and-mortar stores which require significant investments in terms of both time and money before they become profitable businesses.

Tips For Getting Started With Your Own Automated Online Store

Now that we’ve discussed what an Amazon affiliate autopilot auto blog store website is and how it works, let’s take a look at some tips for getting started with creating one yourself:

• Research Products: Before setting up your automated online store, take some time to research different products available through the Amazon marketplace so that you know which ones are most likely going to be popular among customers who visit your site. This will help ensure that any content created around these products will be more likely to generate sales and commissions over time.

• Create Quality Content: When creating content for your site, make sure that it provides value rather than just being promotional in nature as this could turn off potential customers who visit your site looking for helpful information rather than just trying to sell them something right away.

• Utilize Social Media Platforms: Utilizing social media platforms such as Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, etc., can help increase visibility for both yourself and any products offered through your automated online store which could lead more people visiting and potentially making purchases through it over time

• Monitor Performance Regularly: Finally, make sure that you monitor performance regularly by tracking metrics such as page views, click-through rates, etc. so that adjustments can be made if necessary in order to improve performance over time.

What is Autopilot Auto blog Amazon affiliate marketing store/ website?

Affiliate marketing is a proven way to earn passive income.

These website doesn’t require any extra maintenance or not require technical knowledge to run a website.

Every product on this site is linked with your unique affiliate ID so you will earn commissions on every sale through your site made.

Auto blog keeps publishing new posts/articles.

The store keeps updating the products on autopilot.

What I need to get started:

Domain & Hosting

Amazon affiliate store ID ( Inbox me for assistance)

Features and Inclusion:

Complete functional website

Mobile-friendly and modern.

Seo friendly.

All important pages like contact forms, Legal pages, etc.

Niche suggestion.

Top-selling products.

Logo & Banners.

Auto blogs on related niches.

Why choose me:

Experienced Affiliate marketing store designer

Creative & passionate

Revision until your satisfaction

Budget-friendly and premium design

Conclusion

An Amazon affiliate autopilot auto blog store website provides a great opportunity for anyone looking to make money online without having to put too much effort into doing so after the initial setup has been completed successfully. By following our tips above, you should have no problem getting started with creating one yourself!

CLICK THIS LINK FOR MORE INFORMATION –

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Create an Autopilot Amazon Affiliate Website

[decodad]

“Argument - “Artists will just need to focus on telling stories through video games, animations, and comics.”

I have already mentioned the biggest problem with this argument–the AIs will be very capable of running on autopilot, and they will get just as good at telling stories as they are at making images and videos. They will produce novels, essays, and scripts in amounts that can fill the library-of-babel, each piece a composite of half quotations and unattributed swipings. All this auto-generated text can be processed by the image and video AIs to generate long-format media, and the cycle will be complete, self-contained, and human-free. 

[...]

This will completely flood the realm of story and the future will find itself overwhelmingly ghost-written. The “anime” that you’ve been dreaming of making since you were 8, which you are willing to forsake all of art to produce, will get the attention it deserves in this environment–none. And when your dream project, regurgitated in moments by an AI, receives no attention, no clout, and no money, you will rest well knowing you earned it. Not even your mother will be able to find it in the unending surge of the Mega Feed. This wouldn’t be a problem on its own- you were otherwise never going to make the thing anyway- except that you will be ruining the market for everyone who is positioned to pull something off by their own efforts. You will gain nothing and hurt your friends and peers.

The idea that everyone will be empowered to tell their story is one of the few arguments for AI art that compels me, there’s a nuanced discussion to be had here, but I believe it is ultimately bankrupt. It is a nice sentiment, and I can empathize with the frustrations of being an artist who feels their skills do not measure up to the scope of their vision– but we’re overlooking something very important here. You don’t just want to tell your story, and you don’t just want to tell it well–you want it to matter that you told your story. The AIs will rob you, and everyone else, of this. 

The execution of your petulant “vision” by the AIs will ensure that no one cares about your story, and that it is washed away in the heaving sea of AI dross. Your art already doesn’t get attention. It’s not going to get any more attention when it’s competing with the unending stream of self-generated and highly targeted comics, novels, images, films, games, and songs. As I’ve said, these AIs will not need to be prompted by humans for very long and will instead auto-respond to the ebb and flow of the internet, current news, real time sales, and even private conversations. After all, we have already readied these inputs for them. We all feel a little uncomfortable when our phone shows us an ad for something we mentioned to our friend over dinner, but what happens when it shows you a movie it made just for you about your break up? A song about that careless word from your mother? A finished version of that comic idea you started researching? You’ll start getting notifications saying- “Hey! Check out one thousand finished versions of your dream!” Our ambient digital systems already have intimate access to so many of the inputs that define our taste- in some sense we sold our souls long ago.

So, you may be able to tell your story, but at the cost of its complete irrelevancy, which will likely have the effect of making you resent that you ever had the idea in the first place. Stories don’t achieve their incredible effect simply by existing. They live and die on human connection and intellect. AI will not “democratize art”--that’s just one of the copy-pasted platitudes of those vapid marketing execs spoon-feeding you your own doom. In a democracy, your voice matters. In a world flooded by AI media, your voice has no chance of being heard.

I also want to point out here that the people making these things will depend on you thinking they hold the silver key to your artistic vision. They need you to feel worthless and like you missed your chance to tell your story. That you got too old, or don’t have the time or resources or ability or what-have-you; that way you will need their product. This way you will support them monetarily and, most importantly, you will help them change the laws and sway the culture to allow their rapacious strip mining of all creative labor. They will always be incentivized to make you feel lowly, dependent, incapable, and slave to their kaiju whims. 

And when they’re done, they’ll pull the rug out from under you, of course. They have no actual reason to let you have this stuff for free- they don’t care about you. They can say they do but that means nothing. Once they’ve made it impossible for you to make a living as an artist, and you’ve helped them change the laws, and they’ve ostracized you from your peers by turning you against them, they’ll just take it away and sell it to Google and Facebook and YouTube and the rest- because they stand to make billions from them and nothing from you.”

— excerpt from “The End of Art: An Argument Against Image AIs”

[makemoneyfromhome23]

LAUGH & BANK APP LET ME SHOW YOU WHAT IT IS

Laugh & Bank App is an extremely fun and addicting web-based app they use to bank as much as $764.25+ daily simply by rating and sharing funny jokes and YouTube vids directly thru the app and getting paid every time somebody clicks to rate their submissions “FUNNY”.

Start laughing all the way to the bank Logo L&B (People all over the world are flocking - Anyone can do it!):

Step 1: They open the Laugh & Bank app (grab your copy before the 60-minute price rises!) Step 2: They like posts and share videos and jokes (just 1 game or video link a day is MONEY!) Step 3: They then relax and get daily work on autopilot for the "funny" views they get. (How many thousands of funny icons will you get for your favorite videos and jokes?) The Laugh & Bank app has nothing to do with sharing videos and jokes on Facebook or social media to earn money. All they do is share funny YouTube links or jokes on the app - and that's the same for everyone. Just 1 quick fun video link or a day's worth of fun shared directly into l&b = money. Thank God, because are you tired of the social media apps? (…they don't work!). So if you've never "sold" online, it doesn't matter. You're still good enough for the Laugh & Bank App, and it's still good for you. Grab it now.

LAUGH & BANK APP OVERVIEW

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Picture this: You submit a joke or funny YouTube video Direct to the app. And before you know it you're getting PAID every single time other Laugh & Bank App users click to "laugh" at your jokes. This is guaranteed to become the funnest, easiest money you've ever made online and the best part? You'll be making money online, but without an "online business" cuz there's zero traffic, zero social media, zero email marketing, zero hosting, and zero selling. There's none of what's likely been stopping you from supplementing a huge income online. Just log in to Laugh & Bank App, submit a joke, and you're 100% guaranteed to make commissions.

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