#sure. some jobs are Objectively less work in one way or another

[hasturmcfuckface]

i bring an “all labor is skilled labor” vibe to the history class that the capitalists here dont really like

[cuubism]

physical therapy part 4

--

It takes some time, but finally, Dream's hand starts to feel better when he's painting. Granted, his grip strength still needs some work, and he's had to adjust the way he holds a brush to accommodate the lingering stiffness he gets in some of his fingers, but he's finding it hard to care when a few months ago he couldn't draw a straight line without it turning into a scribble. He'd known Hob was good at his job, but it still feels like a miracle.

The only downside is that once he makes enough progress Hob will surely decide to end their sessions. And while he had said that he liked Dream, that he cared about Dream... Dream is finding it hard to feel assured of those feelings. Someone's feelings can change on a dime, and it's impossible to predict.

But finally the day does come when Hob deems him progressed enough to simply continue his exercises at home. "At this point I think you've regained enough mobility that it's just a matter of gradually increasing how much you're using your hand," he says. "You've made a ton of progress."

"Have I?" Dream is less sure. Some things are certainly easier now, like doing tasks around the house, and picking things up. Art is another matter. Though perhaps he is simply making excuses because he doesn't want to stop seeing Hob.

"Yeah, look." Hob pulls out a folder from amongst his files, and shows Dream several sketches--the ones Dream's made in session, which he's apparently kept. Dream picks up the oldest sketch, the cats he'd doodled at his first appointment. They're shaky and uneven, like something he might have drawn when he was barely four. He supposes he can't deny the progress since then. He's torn between wanting to tear the drawing up, for it's too wretched a reminder--and wanting to hold it close to his chest.

"It's not that I think there's no more room for improvement, or anything," Hob says. "I just don't think continuing these frequent sessions is going to offer more than a marginal benefit."

Dream thinks that the benefit he is receiving at this point is more in being able to look forward to seeing Hob each week, than the physical therapy itself. He needs something to look forward to. He's put Hob's objectively terrible finger painting on his fridge. It's still the only spot of color in his empty flat. He needs that.

"So," Hob continues, "I thought I'd take you out to celebrate."

That pulls Dream from his head. "You... will?"

Hob winks at him. "Promised you, didn't I?"

Yes. Dream supposes he had promised that if Dream's feelings held true Hob would act on them. Is that what he's doing? Dream's growing disappointment swiftly morphs into something else. Hope.

"I--" he swallows hard. "I. Would like that." It's still strange, to have something he wants. And to feel like it may be okay to express it.

"Perfect." Hob grins, gets up, holds out a hand.

"Now?"

"You got somewhere else to be?"

Dream never has anywhere else to be, and doubts he would go there if he did. He takes Hob's hand.

Hob takes him to a Chinese restaurant nearby, and Dream looks at him suspiciously as Hob passes him a pair of chopsticks with a cheeky grin. "Now you are just testing me."

"Yup. 'Course if you can't use chopsticks in the first place then it's moot."

Dream can use chopsticks. Could. No, can. Death would say that he should think positively.

So he takes the chopsticks.

Once their food comes, Hob, the absolute bastard, puts down his own chopsticks and picks up a fork instead. And Dream knows, somehow he just knows, that it's not because he can't use them. He's teasing Dream. Or perhaps ensuring that Dream won't compare himself if he struggles. Or both.

He should feel hurt by the teasing but... somehow he's not.

"See?" Hob says when Dream manages to eat his noodles with the chopsticks. It's... not that hard. It doesn't even hurt. Maybe Hob is better at his job than Dream even thought.

It makes him tear up. Such a silly, small thing to start crying over when he's barely cried at all, even when he'd first hurt his hand.

"Hey, it's okay," Hob soothes him, wiping away Dream's tears with his thumb. "I think the noodles are salty enough without the addition of tears, hm?"

Dream laughs, wiping at his eyes when the tears keep falling. "Good tears," he manages to say.

"I know," Hob says, and smiles at him.

Dream surprises himself by having an actually nice time. He hasn't had a nice time doing something in so long. It feels good. He doesn't want it to end.

Of course, it does end, and he finds himself lingering outside the restaurant, hesitant to go home. Particularly as he no longer has a set time when he will see Hob. He feels aimless without that, but. It is hard to ask.

"Dream..." Hob starts, likewise lingering in front of the restaurant. The lights of the signage above cast his face in shades of violet. Dream has thought him handsome before, but never so much as now.

Hob hesitates over what to say, then finally just steps over to him. "Come here."

And before Dream can decide how to react, Hob folds him into a hug.

Dream goes still on instinct. Then, gradually, relaxes into Hob's strong hold. He... can't remember the last time someone hugged him.

He lets himself tuck his face into Hob's shoulder.

"Hey," Hob says. His voice is so close to Dream's ear now. "I'm proud of you."

Dream hears himself make a tiny whimpering sound. He. He does not know how to be proud of himself. He thinks he would only be proud of himself if he could go back in time and stop himself from getting in that terrible relationship to begin with. But he does like how it sounds when Hob says it.

Hob gives him one more squeeze, then, disappointingly, releases him. "I almost forgot. I have something for you."

He digs around in his bag and comes back with a box that looks rather like art supplies of some kind. "It's modelling clay," he explains. "So you can play around and work on your hand without just doing, you know, boring exercises all the time."

Hob is too considerate of him, truly. Dream holds the box close.

"You okay to get home?" Hob asks, and Dream nods. His ex has not bothered him again, and Dream is now hopeful that he won't. Though that does not necessarily mean he doesn't want Hob to follow him home.

"Good," Hob says. Then, while Dream is still thinking about the hug and the clay and everything else, Hob leans in and kisses his cheek. "Goodnight, Dream."

Dream stands paralyzed until Hob is gone, and it's only then that he realizes he failed to set another time for them to meet. He supposes he does have Hob's office contact info. Still, it is disappointing not to have something to look forward to.

But when he gets home, and opens the box of clay, he finds a note inside. It has the name of a coffee shop, and Tuesday, 3pm?, and Hob's personal number. At first he's confused. Why wouldn't Hob simply ask him while they were together? And then he realizes that Hob must be trying to give him a chance to comfortably back out if he wants to by letting him decide in private. It makes him want to cry again. Hob truly is too considerate of him.

But he takes out his phone and types in Hob's number, and a simple reply. Yes.

[sukioyakio]

LOSER!BOYFRIEND

Me and my pookie talking about things and then one thing leads to another😏

AND THEN LOSERBOYFRIEND THOUGHTS KEPT COMING THOUGH!

PARING: LOSERBOYFRIEND! Miguel x Reader

WARNING:May have smut content,but will be mostly FLUFF

SUMMARY: LoserBOYFRIEND!Miguel headcannons 💓

DID NOT PROREAD DID NOT EDITED

LOSERBOYFRIEND!miguel who works at an lego store because it was the only job his gym rat looking ass found,but he enjoy the job non the less,and plus he's the cashier meaning the front view of everything:)) (of course he love it,since he can get free Lego sets for him and for you)

LOSERBOYFRIEND!Miguel Who is Hardly more then happy to see you,come by his work job to say hi.Just your smile would make him down bad for you like you have no idea.But what makes him happy even more is That you come to give him some home made lunch.And then there he just got hard the tightness in his pants was unbearable,it felt like at any moment he was going to release his steman in his pants. He was lose in the thought of you being his wife and how he'll be abke to have that smile to wake up too.

LOSERBOYFRIEND!Miguel Who is hella nervous when you went over his house,especially in holiday days.My guy would sweat the most before you even arrive,he'll clean his house not once not twice but four times just to be prepare,he know he an absolute Loser,but he just want you to know that his trying and that even if he doesn't have the best of relationship advice (which is none 😅😢) HE WILL BE THERE!!!

LOSERBOYFREIND!Miguel who know after dating you for like 5 mouth,he will and know that he is gonna go inside your pretty little apartment,and knowing that makes him nervous.One because your smell it addicting to sent, and two it because he really never been at an girl apartment or stuff so he reallly doesnt know how to act.And so his cute loser ass search up "how to act when your in your girlfriend"s house" (HE IS SUCH AN TOTAL DORK AND dont tell me he would be all night researching about these things) and so when he finally got inside your house.

THis man is hard already,it like you put an drug on the air in your house.He was for sure that you could see his dick bulge through his pants.Already he has his flush out face and he barley inside your place.

"are you ok babe?" you asks sweetly,with your big doe eyes looking that him.The same eyes he has dreams about in dark hours of the night.

loserboyfreind!miguel nodded to your sweet question,As he hide his stuipd (big) little boner from you.He would get embrassed if you saw,and or so overthinks that you would leave him because of him thinking of you in an sexual way (My guy overthinks an lot but cant bring himself to tell you how he feels and really want to make himself feel like an good boyfreind even if he an total loser about it )

Walking around your place was like an new terrioty for him,he would particauly look and study each object in your room through the living room.

But when you took him to your room his dick got more stiffen in his pants and so he quickly ask where is the restroom to "use the bathroom",

WHERE HE IS AN TOTAL GREEK FOR VIDEO GAMES AND SCIENCE, but when you come into his life,he had no idea how to be a boyfriend.BRO WOULD HAVE AN NERD LOOK BUT would tried so hard to look presentable for you. 

CUZ YOU DESERVE IT,but he’s broke and work in an Lego store and so GET AN SET OF THE FLOWER AND Chocolate BOX LEGOS SET AND WOULD BUILT IT FOR YOU,and would be embarrassed TO SHOW HIS FACE when his shoving his gift to you,HAVING A BLUSHING FACE. 

GRUMBLING UNDERNEATH HIS mouth 

“I-ii- I know is not the b-best gift,but please accept it”he says while looking down with a shy expression and shoving it to you.

you wonder how an built gaint is an such an adorable loser.boyfriend You had an smile on your face. 

“Thank you for your gift” As you crane your neck and you were on tipped toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek. 

HE LOOKED SO HAPPY SO APPRECIATIVE,the second later he would have a nose bleed from your kiss.THIS MEN NEVER HAD PHYSICAL TOUCH. 

(That all I have 😭😭😭)

HAPPY VALENTINES 💝

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Whumpuary Day 17-18

Prompt: Headache (alt)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

You had not been home long when Daryl came shuffling through the door. He had gone on a run, leaving at the ass-crack of dawn but they were back by early afternoon with two boxes of medical supplies as fruits of their labor. Then he had been helping to move the solar panels and work on the battery hookup with Eugene. You were certain he was thrilled about that. 

You knew he hadn’t stopped; hadn’t told anyone he needed a break. It’s just who he was. Help until the job was done. It was a given that he’d be exhausted. You’d let him relax, maybe shower, while you made a quick dinner. 

Except… he stumbled after closing the door, the tips of the fingers on his left hand pressed against his temple. He didn’t so much as wave before depositing himself face first onto the couch, long legs hanging over the edge of the cushions. If it wasn’t so out of character for him, you’d find it comical. 

“Uh, hi.” You leaned into the room before actually entering. “Rough day?” There was a muffled mhm. “Hungry?” Another muted answer, but this one was mm-mm. God, you wanted to laugh, but that would need to wait until you found out a little more about why your boyfriend came home and immediately attempted to suffocate himself on the living room furniture. 

You knelt slowly, rubbing your hand over the warm leather on his back. You were pretty sure the next noise was a sigh. 

“Are you okay?” You ventured, probing a little more while leaving space in between questions so as not to irritate the archer. You thought he might have said super and was a bit dry, but it was hard to tell with the thick fabric pressed against his face. 

You shifted to properly sit on the floor, moving your hand in random patterns over his back. Maybe if you were patient, he would decide air was a good thing and sit up to enjoy it. You didn’t have anywhere else to be. It took about five minutes for him to very slowly roll his head toward you, expression drawn and eyes squinted. Uh oh. Your Dixon sense was tingling. 

“What’s wrong?”

He visibly attempted a scowl but gave up after only a brief effort. “Head.”

Oh, the jokes you could make. Not the time, Y/N. 

“Headache.” It wasn’t a question. It was blatantly obvious after he’d given you a clue. Judging from his flushed skin and the tension nearly vibrating over his form, it was a bad one. “Okay, just a second.” Daryl didn’t normally get headaches, so you were unsure how to treat one in a man that never complained and despised feeling weak or vulnerable. As you pulled the shades and closed the curtains, you glanced back at him. 

Weak was a fitting word. If a herd plowed through right now, he’d probably thank them when they started to eat him. 

With the room sufficiently darkened, you crouched in front of him, brushing his hair away from his eyes with a barely there swipe of your fingertips. “I’m going to go get a few things for you. Just relax here until I get back.”

“S’okay.” He mumbled, his arm falling away from where it had been tucked at his side. He let his hand hit the floor with little care. “Don’ need ta go outta yer way. M’good.”

A tilt of your head and tender smile should have been enough of a response, but just in case it wasn’t. “You know better than that. Sit tight.” You backed away from him in case he was about to offer any other objections but he surrendered and turned his hand with a thumbs up. 

You made a list in your head as you shuffled around the house. Pain killers. Tylenol would be okay but you were hoping for one of the stronger ones he’d been given when he’d broken his ribs. He was just as stubborn then so there were probably at least a couple left. 

While on your search, you were passing by other things you needed. Washcloths. The small basin that you reserved for cleaning him up when he came home bloody. And eureka! Pills! 

You contemplated getting him some comfortable clothes but the less he moved right then, the better. As an afterthought, you toed off your boots, quieting your steps significantly when you descended the stairs. If he noticed you bypassing him to disappear into the kitchen, he didn’t voice it. He’d need a glass of water to take the pills though you were certain he wasn’t beyond swallowing them dry. You filled the basin with cool water as well and strategically balanced your burden while padding back into the living room. 

Placing the items on the end table, you leaned down to press the most gentle kiss to the crown of his head. His eyes were closed but you were almost certain he wasn’t asleep.

“Okay, I’m gonna need you to move around for just a minute and then you can stay still as long as you want. Deal?” 

“Don’ wanna.” He groaned, reminding you very much of a grumpy toddler. Your hands drifted to his shoulders, pulling up as gingerly as you could to motivate him. 

“Come on.” His eyes were squeezed shut, jaw clenched against the throbbing in his skull. Those things were counterproductive when dealing with a headache but if you could get him to take the pills and lie down more comfortably, maybe he’d relax a little. “I got the leftover strong ones so this should start helping pretty quickly.”

“Okay.” He was so quiet and looked so small at that moment. You wanted to wrap him up and hold onto him forever. He held out his palm and you handed over the medication, barely getting the glass in front of him in time for him to swallow with the water. 

“Okay, now you get pampered.” You crawled to the far end of the couch next to your supplies and sat, patting your thighs. “Your pillow awaits, handsome.” You were barely able to stifle the giggle when he rolled his eyes before promptly pressing his palm against his forehead with a drawn out whine of ow. 

He stayed silent while stretching out on his back, his head resting on your lap. You smiled down at him while one hand dipped cloth into the water and squeezed out the excess. 

“You don’t have to do anything. I’ve got you.” You were gentle and careful when lifting his head slightly to place the cool cloth over the back of his neck. He winced at the movement regardless, making you frown. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay.” He murmured, but you still felt a pang of guilt. 

The second cloth now wrung out, you folded it and placed it over his eyes. When he melted deeper into the couch with a sigh, you grinned triumphantly. That part out of the way, you pressed two fingers, gently but firmly, against each of his temples and began massaging the area. You could feel the pulsing there, so too much would not be beneficial. You began to alternate between that and carefully scratching your fingernails over his scalp to stimulate blood flow. 

After no more than five minutes, before you even needed to rewet the cloths, he was softly snoring on your lap. Still, you continued, determined to make sure the headache was gone before stopping. 

An hour later, you had removed the cloths and stopped massaging. Your fingers carded idly through his hair as he slept. He had turned onto his side and pressed his face into your stomach, not a single line of pain left showing. 

Daryl so seldom got to relax that seeing him like that and just being able to take it all in was something you found you wanted to do over and over again. Maybe you’d start being more appreciative of the time you could spend watching him sleep in the moonlight from the bedroom window. You knew that was going to be your new favorite bedtime ritual. 

A deep breath drew you from your thoughts and back to him, his eyes fluttering but barely opening. 

“Thanks, sunshine.” He whispered against your shirt, back asleep before you could reply. 

“Anytime, love. Anytime.”

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Mafia!Kol Yandere NSFW A-Z

A stands for AFFECTION: how would they show affection?

•Kol’s affection is very physical which sometimes causes you problems since you’re a bartender

•His hands are almost constantly on you in some fashion and while the Mikaelson’s are all gift givers, Kol goes for less of the fancy jewelry and more of the cards and flowers, always wanting the people you work with, especially the men, to see that you’re taken

B stands for BLOODY: how bloody are they willing to get for their object of obsession?

•Any chance that Kol has to get bloody is a good time for him, but for you, that’s different

•While he enjoys his work, when it comes to getting rid of a ‘rival’ or a drunk asshole who thinks his girl is free game, he takes extra pride and extra time in making it hurt

C stands for CRUELTY: would they ever hurt their object of obsession?

•Never seriously, no

•Kol doesn’t enjoy seeing you in pain unless it’s the good kind😉, however he will ensure his point gets across whether that means spanking your ass or on one scary occasion, tightening his hand around your throat to make sure he’s being heard the way he needs to be

D stands for DARLING: would they cross their object of obsession’s limits?

•Never sexually, while Kol enjoys your kinky relationship and how adventurous you are in bed, he would never do anything you say ‘no’ to, even in play. The Mikaelsons all take sexual assault very seriously and they’ve killed men for it hundreds of times by now, he refuses to hurt you like that

•If he’s ensuring your cooperation however, he might just cross a few lines…he’ll do whatever he has to to make you see reason even if that means canceling credit cards, having you evicted or threatening your boss to have you fired from your job

E stands for EXPOSED: how much do they expose their own feelings to their object of obsession?

•Kol is quite open about how he feels for you, he is a flirt if ever there was one and he knew as a bartender you saw men like that every day but he was the most persistent

•He is the only man to make you genuinely believe that he cares for you after the first 2 weeks of him showing up and chatting you up (through your entire shift most days)

F stands for FIGHT: how would they react to their object of obsession fighting back?

•Kol thinks you’re adorable when you get all tough

•He knew you were the girl for him when you first fought back against a drunk ass who refused to leave or to stop touching your ass but before Kol could step in you were swinging a baseball bat around like a crazy person

•He knows he has his hands full with you, but he likes it and he’s ready, it will only make your submission that much more sweet

G stands for GAME: do they think this is just a game?

•While he may view some of your interactions as a game, or playful banter you are Not a game to the youngest Mikaelson brother

•Kol loves to play and tease you all the live long day, but make no mistake…You Are His

H stands for HELL: what would be their object of obsession’s worst experience with them?

•The worst experience happened upon leaving work one night. Kol was walking you to your car and you had been bitching at him for flirting with a coworker (though Kol’s personality is 97% flirt)

•You told him you would just have to find someone more serious about you to date, the next thing you knew you were pinned to the brick wall of the bar beside the parking lot with his hand tightening around your throat

•You learned that if there’s one thing you don’t tease Kol about, it’s being with another man. He doesn’t take it lightly

I stands for IDEAL: what are their plans for their object of obsession?

•Kol wants you to be his

•Just his, whatever that means to you and to him is your personal beliefs and ideals, if you want to get married he’ll get you the biggest diamond there is, if you want to elope that’s fine, if you don’t believe in marriage and you just want to dedicate yourselves to each other and live like that it completely fine with him

•Kol just needs you to know that you’re his

J stands for JEALOUSY: how they react when jealous? Do they get jealous?

•Kol’s jealousy is no joke, a guy making eye contact with you enrages him

•You always know when you’re never going to see a man again by the look on your boyfriends face, you’ve just asked that he leaves your regulars alone, and the old men that drink in your bar who flirt in a ‘sweet old man’ kind of way

•You’re sure he’s killed at least 40 men throughout his 6 months coming to see you at work before he forces you to live with him

K stands for KINDNESS: how they act around their object of obsession?

•Kol is a teasing, funny guy and most people love him upon meeting him

•His entertaining attitude puts people at ease but you know it’s a front and that the belief in it gets many people dead

L stands for LOVE LETTER: how would they approach their object of obsession?

•He visited you at work every shift for 2 weeks before you believed he was serious, he knew it would take time since you get flirty guys at work all the time but he stuck with it

•On the nights he couldn’t be there because of work he would send you a bouquet of flowers and a card with some kind of sweet note in them

•The one time he needed to work for a week straight your house looked like a florist shop with all the different assorted bouquets and several times a night you would get a flower or stuffed animal delivered just to ensure any men there when he couldn’t be would be sure you were already spoken for

M stands for MASK: how different are their public persona from their true selves?

•Kol is, for the most part, the same

•Hes a massive joker and he teases people all the time and he does that in every aspect of his life

•When he’s angry however it’s different, he’s serious and vengeful, straight up terrifying for people who have never seen the real pissed off Kol Mikaelson

N stands for NAUGHTY: how would they punish their object of obsession?

•Kol would prefer to spank you for the most part

•You also learned very quickly that your actions can get other men killed, deserving or not and while a part of you found it hot that he would kill to protect you, he would also kill to punish you so you quickly stopped ‘flirting’ with men at your job to get tips since you realized it pissed him off and he would kill anyone who gave you attention beyond what a bartender should get

•Once you moved in with him and he stopped you from working he would punish you by locking you in his room since he knew it drove you mad, he usually lets you walk freely around the house knowing you can’t get out passed the guards so locking you in his room was the perfect punishment for you

O stands for OPPRESSION: how many rights would they take from their object of obsession?

•Your life as you knew it is gone along with your normal freedoms, but that doesn’t mean you have nothing in your new life

•Kol found (and often rubbed it in his brothers faces) that you were more behaved than his brothers girls quicker which allowed you more freedoms, which is why you ‘behaved yourself’ in the first place

•You we’re allowed to roam the house freely several weeks before Klaus’ fiancée got the same privilege and she had been here 4 months before that happened which had only been 2 weeks for you

P stands for PATIENCE: how patient are they with their object of obsession?

•Kol isn’t known for his patience but thankfully you are a quick learner

•You figured out how fucked up Kol was long before he kidnapped you, but you had fallen for him by then and suddenly his crazy just didn’t matter as much to you, which is why you adapt quicker in your opinion…his crazy actually turned you on…

Q stands for QUIT: if their object of obsession died or escaped, would they ever be able to move on?

•Died: If you died that means someone hurt you and if someone hurt you Kol will not rest until he finds out and punishes the person or people responsible and everyone they’ve ever cared for, it is the only time his siblings actually worry for him when he ‘goes off the deep end’…Kol would never be the same again, he doesn’t love often and to give it so freely to you…he’s dead inside…he died right beside you that day

•Escaped: If you did ever try to escape, which you personally didn’t see the point to knowing your boyfriend/fiancée (or whatever TF you are) as well as you do, he would find you before the days end, both the type and amount of people on the Mikaelson’s payroll is frightening and you would be lucky to make it off the property

R stands for REGRET: would they ever regret harming their object of obsession? Would they ever let them go?

•The idea of letting you go is laughable to the youngest Mikaelson brother, literally, you told him he could let you go once and he giggled in a way one could only describe as…maniacally…

•Harming you however, if Kol ever truly hurt you then it was an accident and he would regret it, punishing you though, no never, you should have behaved yourself like he told you to do

S stands for STIGMA: what made their yandere tendencies bloom?

•The moment he saw you behind that bar and you laughed at a man’s pickup line for the first time, that was when he decided you were to be his

•Kol doesn’t take things like that lightly, you belong to him, always and forever, there’s no way around it

•He was possessive of you instantly, sitting at your bar and flirting with you, threatening men who tried to take your attention with grievous bodily harm if they didn’t scram and Fast! He committed himself to getting your attention which took him 2 weeks of coming back over and over again. The loss of sleep and the work he put on others was completely worth it once he truly had your attention and that gorgeous smile directed at him

T stands for TEARS: how would they react to their object of obsession crying/breaking?

•It depends on the type of crying

•If you’re crying during sex it turns him on, not to actually hurt you, but to see you so overwhelmed with pleasure is his favorite thing

•If you’re crying in pain or upset he will comfort you and hurt whoever dared to make you feel like this, Kol doesn’t want you to be broken, just dependent on him which is exactly what he’s going to get

U stands for UNIQUE: something different they would do compared to others yanderes.

•Kol didn’t lock you up the same way Elijah and Klaus had, he gave you little freedoms until you proved you weren’t worthy of them

•Kol believed you would behave more if you knew what kind of life you could have and how comfortable it could be if you just behave which prompted you to do so

V stands for VICE: what weakness their object of obsession could use against them?

•If you wanted someone dead, especially a man, you made it happen

•The 3 men that had hassled you at work for nearly a year, all you had to do was subtlety tell Kol one night that they made you ‘uncomfortable’ with their advances, and they never showed up again…it turns out there are perks to dating a psychopath

W stands for WIT’S END: would they hurt their object of obsession?

•Never in a lasting way, he would never beat you or scar you, the only physical pain he caused you (besides bruises while playing) was when you were so bad he needed to spank you, which was not often

X stands for XOANON: would they worship their object of obsession?

•Kol loves you more than anyone has ever loved you in your entire life

•He is happy to treat you like his perfect Princess or his naughty Kitten whenever you need/want

•He loves you in the type of way Kol equates people loving their religion, you are absolutely Everything in his world

Y stands for YEARN: how long would they pine after their object of obsession before they snap?

•It takes 2 weeks for him to really grasp your attention

•After that he visits you and takes you on dates for about 3 months before he takes you home and doesn’t let you leave again

Z stands for ZENITH: would they ever break their object of obsession?

•You give into his wants and needs, but breaking wouldn’t really be the right word

•You fall in love with Kol just as deeply and passionately as he does for you, it just takes you a bit more time

•If there’s ever a moment that someone could call the ‘Breaking Point’ maybe it would be the day you decide to try for a baby?

Kol Mikaelson Masterlist

[bugsmunched]

" Toy and Owner " - Derek Danforth X Male! Reader

Summary: Derek gets off the phone with a particularly annoying employee and his pretty little toy knows just how to ease the pain.

Contents: AMAB! Reader, he/him pronouns used for reader, Oral sex (M receiving), drug usage mention, vaping, degradation, hair pulling, consensual hitting, choking, Derek is mean,spoiled brat Derek, Reader is just seen as an object, Dick piercings, spitting, face fucking,

SMUT UNDER THE CUT! MINORS DNI!!!!!

ASKS ARE OPEN! IF YOU HAVE ANY REQUESTS PLEASE ASK!!

You weren't exactly sure what to call the relationship between you and Derek Danforth. You certainly weren't boyfriends by any means, as he simply saw you as a toy that should do nothing except sit still, look pretty, and pleasure him whenever he sees fit, which is quite frequent. But you weren't friends either, so you couldn't be friends with benefits, or even really fuck buddies. What the two of you were was simply Toy and Owner.

You tapped your fingers against the window of the limousine that the two of you were in together, trying your best to block out his angry words towards one of his many scum-bag employees.

"- maybe you should try and do your fucking job, and then it wouldn't be on the fucking line! If I don't see improvements in a week, you're done. " Derek threatened before he hung up the phone, letting it fall into his lap as he pulled out a vape. Typically the vapes were laced with some sort of drug that would send the sociopathic con artist to another dimension, but since you came along, he found the drug of you far more addicting.

You knew better than to say anything, knowing that the CEO couldn't give less of a shit about your opinion or advice. So instead of saying anything, you simply slipped out of your seat and crawled in front of him, sitting on your knees and looking up at him, placing your head in his lap. His free hand found its way into your hair, tangling itself in the strands.

"slut. " he spat, venom dripping from his words, making it seem like he truly hated you. You didn't really care if he hated you or not, after all, it wasn't your job to be liked by him, it was your job to please him, to make him forget about everything else.

He let go of your hair and shoved your head off of his lap, leaning back against the seat of the limo. He held the vape up to his lips and took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before exhaling, blowing the cloud directly into your face. " Well? Get to work. I can't wait all night. " He demanded, arrogance filling the air.

Your hands quickly fumbled with his belt, struggling with the stupidly expensive and quite honestly useless accessory. He always wore his pants too tight and never needed a belt, but to him, that stupid belt looked cool since it was expensive, so he wore it. Finally, you got the belt undone, moving onto the button and zipper of his pants.

He sighed exasperatedly, rolling his eyes at how long it was taking for you to just get his cock out. " You're a pretty useless sex toy, you know that? Can't even get me out of my pants in a timely manner, hurry the fuck up, bitch. " He huffed, smacking your cheek lightly, as a warning. You knew that if you didn't hurry up, he'd get far more impatient.

You rolled your eyes in response, going to pull his dick out when a hand went around your throat. " What the fuck was that? " He growled a little bit, squeezing the sides of your neck. As much of an asshole as he was, he would never hurt you past what you had agreed on. Would he purposely hurt others? Absolutely. But you? You were special. You were his property, and what was the point in damaging your own property?

"Sorry, sir. " You mumbled out an apology that both of you knew you didn't mean. He let go of your throat and huffed, taking another hit of his vape and blowing the cloud into the air.

"Good boy. Now, get to work, I expect to cum before we get to the event. " He demanded, a smug look on his face as you nodded in compliance.

You reached into his pants and pulled out his hard on, subconsciously licking your lips at the sight. No matter how many times you did this, it still mildly surprised you every time just how big he was. Jacobs ladder piercings ran up his length, each piercing designating an inch of length. Without hesitation, you leant forward, wrapping your lips around his tip. He gave a little whimper in response, his hand finding itself tangled messily in your hair once again.

Slowly, you began to push your head down, the ball ends of the piercings hitting the sides of your mouth. You were always careful to take him slowly, as to avoid any discomfort for the both of you. If you went too fast, you could accidentally tug at a piercing, which you learned he did not like. And although he didn't mind seeing you gag and choke on his cock, along with the mass amount of saliva, you didn't enjoy the bruises that showed up in your throat the next day.

After relaxing your throat a bit more, you pushed your head down even further and soon had your nose buried in the neatly trimmed pubes that rested at the base of his cock. Spit bubbled out from the sides of your mouth, running down his balls and pooling on the seat beneath him. He groaned and pushed down on your head, holding you there as he ground his hips upwards, the tip of his dick grinding against your throat causing you to gag even more.

" fuck, perfect little hole for me to fuck...shit I'm just gonna fuck your mouth, alright? Cause I know you hate having to do your job. So all you have to do is sit there and fucking take it. " He hummed softly. Guess you were going to get bruises after all.

He pulled your head up slightly, giving himself some room to begin thrusting up into your mouth, his tip slamming against the back of your throat repeatedly, which caused you to choke, drool falling down your face and onto the floor below you.

"God, you're such a messy slut, aren't you? You always make such a pathetic mess! It's hysterical how pathetic you are, dumb bitch. " He spat as he pulled you off his cock. You panted heavily, tears pricking in your eyes. Just as you managed to catch your breath, he shoved you back down onto his cock and began relentlessly thrusting in and out of your mouth once again.

He was using your mouth like a little fleshlight, and you both loved it. To him, you were nothing but an object for him to use for his pleasure. Once again, simply put, you were a toy and he was your owner.

Tears spilled out of your eyes, rolling down your cheeks and mixing with your drool on your chin and his cock. He loved seeing you cry because you couldn't take his cock. "pathetic. " He hissed as he pulled you off his cock again, just to spit in your face and force you back down.

After a little while of choking on his cock and nearly drowning in your own spit, the bleach blonde above you started to whimper and his breath began to get shaky, tell tale signs that he was close to cumming.

"fuck, little slut, if you get even a drop of cum on the leather interior of this limo, you'll have it coming. " Derek warned you, his thrusts becoming sloppy and less rhythmic.

As he got closer, he got louder and louder, not caring if the limo driver could hear him. That driver has heard everything that had ever happened in that limo, including the time Derek fucked you till you passed out on his cock.

He whimpered loudly, taking another long hit of his vape, exhaling with a loud moan as cum began to spill down your throat. You gagged a little bit at the suddenness, but managed to swallow each and every drop, not getting a single one on the leather interior.

He pulled you off his dick, whining a little bit at the loss of warmth. " At least someone knows how to do their job around here. " He cupped your face with his hand and pat it gently. " Good job, slut. " He hummed a bit. It was rare that he praised you, and often times when he did, it was because he was so sex drunk that he didn't realize what he was doing.

He stuffed himself back into his pants, rubbing the stubble on his chin, patting his lap. " Get off the floor and get back up here. " He commanded, watching as you scrambled to your feet and then placed yourself back in his lip, leaning against his chest. He held the vape up to your lips, offering it to you. Just as you took a bit, his phone began to ring. Once he picked up, he soon enough began yelling again. Looks like your job wasn't quite done yet.

[ghostofskywalker]

Cognitive Recalibration

Commander Wolffe/Reader

Fictober Day 16 of 31

Words: 1,161

Summary: In the time following Order 66, you worked to remove the inhibitor chips of Imperial clones. This time, you had your sights set on an old friend, and the consequences were dire if you failed.

Note: this is set after wolffe's appearance in the bad batch :) i was halfway through writing this when i realized the reader was basically running a trap-neuter-release program with clones (trap-dechip-release) like people do with colonies of stray cats lol.

Clone Troopers Masterlist

You watched from your hiding spot in the bushes, waiting for your target to finally step withing range of your stun blaster. This time, you couldn’t afford to screw up. 

When you had gotten the comm from Rex, you didn’t believe him at first. But now, as you stood in the shadows and watched as one of the men you had worked closely with during the war exit an Imperial transport shuttle, you were forced to face the truth. One of the people you had trusted to have your back in battle would likely try to kill you within seconds of laying eyes on you, and you hated that feeling. 

By some twist of Maker’s grace he was alone, but that did not mean that this process would be easy. There was no room for even a single misstep, especially because he would recognize you. 

If you had not completed your objective for other clone operatives, there was less of a risk that they would know your identity, and you certainly didn’t make a habit of swinging your lightsaber around anymore. Now however, there was no hiding. If you didn’t effectively knock Wolffe out before removing his chip, he would recognize you instantly, and you would once again be thrown into a fight for your life, mirroring the one you only narrowly escaped from not too long ago. 

Selfishly, there was another reason for your wanting to save Wolffe from this terrible fate. You had spent quite a bit of time around the 104th when General Koon was called for meetings and solo missions, and you had grown quite close to the commander. Although you doubted there was a future for the two of you that didn’t involve intense heartbreak, you still wanted to see him removed from the chip’s influence and freed from the Empire’s grasp. 

Your hand shook right as he approached, and the weapon brushed up against the leaves of your hiding spot. Kriff, you thought. If he turned around to see the nose of a blaster peeking through the foliage, this was not going to go well. 

Wolffe moved a half-step more, and suddenly you had your shot. Tapping into the force to guide the bolt to its target, you let out a sigh of relief as the commander dropped to the ground. But that didn’t mean all this was over, and you still had a lot of work to do if you wanted to accomplish it all before he woke up.  

***

Binders were a precaution, and it hurt your heart to restrain Wolffe even in his sleep. The makeshift medical bay that you had essentially been using as a catch-and-release headquarters for de-chipping imperial clones didn’t exactly have the most up-to-date tech, but it did its job, and soon the commander was waking up, the effects of the stun bolt finally wearing off. 

You were sitting across the room, inputting information into your datapad when you heard your name. Immediately you tensed, not sure what kind of reunion this was going to be. Although Wolffe was now inhibitor chip-less, he could still believe that the Jedi were traitors, or that the Empire is where his loyalties should lie. 

“What are you doing?” he asked as he sat up, raising his eyebrows at you when he realized he was wearing binders on one wrist, keeping him from getting off the cot. “I thought you were dead.” 

“The Empire does too, and I’d like to keep it that way,” you said. “Rex told me where to find you.” 

Wolffe paused. “I should have known he wouldn’t let things go.” His free hand moved towards his hair, pausing as he felt the bandage on his head. “What did you do to me?” 

“Removed your inhibitor chip,” you said. “The thing that made you lash out and kill Master Koon.” 

Okay, maybe you shouldn’t have jumped all in on guilting him, but it was the only thing you could think to get him to understand the stakes here. Thankfully you hadn’t been traveling with the 104th when Order 66 was called, but you had reached out through the Force for your former master the moment you were able, only to receive nothing but cold emptiness in return. You knew what had happened, a theory that was later confirmed when you saw his ghost. 

“The Empire did that to us?” Wolffe asked, and you could tell he was beginning to question everything. 

You shook your head. “Whoever the architect of the Empire was, yes, but we don’t know too much about how this all came to be. It was only after reuniting with Rex did he explain what it felt like, and even then I was still unsure if I trusted him until I saw the chip, and proof of its removal myself.” 

Wolffe paused. “What do I do now?” His voice was so much quieter than it had been before, and you did not envy the swirling storm of thoughts, guilt, and worry that must be taking over his brain at this moment. 

“For one, I know that Rex would be more than happy to welcome you to his crew, if you want to fight back against the Empire,” you said softly. “Or if you just want to live without going through any more battle, there are places where you can settle.” 

Wolffe paused. “What if I don’t know yet?” 

“You could travel with me for a little while, until you figure out where you want to go,” you offered. It was a selfish proposal just as much as it was selfless, as you couldn’t help but think about a future where the two of you could exist side by side, whether that was in a romantic relationship or not. 

Wolffe looked at you. “If I say yes, will you take the binders off my wrist?” he asked, the ghost of a smile beginning to cross his face. You smiled back as you walked over to him and removed the restraint, trying not to think about how warm his skin felt under your fingertips. 

Right as you were about to step away, Wolffe reached out and gently took your hand. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “For saving my life.” 

Confused, you looked at him. “What?” 

“What I was doing before, for the Empire,” he said. “That wasn’t living. You took a chance on me, even though it could have been dangerous for you, and I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” 

“How about you just never try to kill me?” you asked, trying to lighten the mood while also thinking about how much you wanted to kiss him right now. 

“Cyar’ika, you’ve certainly got yourself a deal,” he said, smiling for the first time in (what you assumed) was a long time. 

Maybe the future didn’t hold as much heartbreak as you expected it to, you thought. Or maybe it was all worth it, for moments like these.

- the end -

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[90shaladriel]

AI Manipulations of Rings of Power. (Longish)

Saw the AI edits of Haladriel scenes being altered by GenAI to make the characters* kiss. I have seen chatter about it and the negative implications of creating or interacting with AI generated content.

At the risk of being nuanced, (feel free to block or scroll past this) it interests me what exactly is the concern with it and why. To be clear, I do work in an industry that is both working to incorporate and profit off AIs while simultaneously my own job is increasingly at risk by the same products or we are forced to use them for productivity reasons.

Some reasons that make sense to me that you would not want AI content would be

1. Legal and copyright infringement of the ownership of the art or source material used to train the AI models. Stolen work, no credit or payment to artists

2. It’s generally shitty, sloppy, uncanny valley. Which aesthetically I think most people would be against

3. It directly competes against manual labor of a human, devalues work, replaces jobs, or floods the market so creators never can be separated, investment in a skill or art form isnt worth it.

4. It extremely energy intensive, the environmental implications can he huge with the climate crisis.

5. Its being shoveled in our faces by overhyped tech bros because they think its cool and can find gullible investors for, like NFTs and crypto curriencies

6. Deep fake abuse with AI, making up fake news, abusing a real person image in a degrading way without consent.

I think all of these are serious issues with AI.

The stuff that was shared about Sauron and Galadriel kissing does it materialize those concerns? I’m going to assume that it may for the first one, legal and copyright ownership of training data. Im not a lawyer, and there are also some AI models trained on legally owner content or public domain / open source content. I have no way of knowing what models were used by the GenAI that made those haladriel kisses, so we probably have to assume they may have questionable provenance, and I think by that alone we should boycott those.

Now what if someone used a more solidly vetted model or genAI service without those legal issues? What if the artists do get paid or some form of royalties?

The kiss videos themselves were ok, maybe halfway believable, there were obviously the weird uncanny ai artifacts and stuff. It’s objectively worse than if ROP had actually filmed a kiss with live actors in the show proper. But who am I to judge whether that slop is aesthetically pleasing to someone else or not? Sometimes I have found AI art that is truly bizarre in that this is too weird surrealness quality like looking into a dream while being awake. I’m not sure that this feeling is necessarily wrong to enjoy on its own.

Regarding the AI replacing jobs argument. I suppose it depends what we mean. They were never going to remake ROP Season 1 or 2. Morfydd and Charlie won’t be offered the same role if another company were to buy the rights and make Rings of Power reboot. We will never get those kisses on screen. Maybe you can say that if people were fed content for Haladriel you could give them that almost infinitely by GenAI and then those people would be less likely to consume or pay for some other newer media that might otherwise give a satisfactory ETL with backstory and build up equivalent to what ROP has done with Haladriel? I’m not sure how to weigh that, it might be true? I tend to think these AI kisses arent replacing any creative workers in the film/tv industry. I don’t think we say that fanfic reusing known characters competes with original written stories (or do people argue this?) although i suppose it does on some level. Do people boycott fanfiction?

Along these lines, what about the actors consent and deep fake aspects? Personally, I don’t see how the AI images are more offensive or harmful than fanart which uses the actors depictions to do all sorts of things, stabbing, killing, kissing, screwing and everything and everyone in between. Or fan edits which use clever editing and overlay soundtracks with pointed lyrics which completely change the artistic intent of the actors /creatives who made the original in a particular way, say make two characters have a romantic chemistry that wasn’t there in the original? Or even the old photoshop manipulation stuff? I thought we’re ok with this in the fandom world, is this that different?

I’m not saying I like AI or you need to. I probably wont interact with it and try to avoid it personally wherever I can. But I do wonder if the arguments people are making against ROP AI edits are actually in good faith? Because then i question why other kinds of fan creations are acceptable?

[fyonahmacnally]

Hands On Experience (Kara's First Job)

Based on a tumblr post - read here.

It’s been a long week for all of them, even longer since they’ve all had a chance to unwind and relax in general, much less as a group. Between their regular jobs, their vigilante shifts, and just life in general, months have passed since their last girl’s night. Fortunately, tonight is the remedy to that problem. 

They’re all sitting around Lena’s living room, snacks, wine, and other spirits spread across the coffee table in front of them. Kelly, Alex, Nia, Sam, Andrea, Lena, and Kara are regaling each other with stories of their youth and the trouble they managed to get into. Hearing some of the stories from Andrea about a teenage Lena has everyone laughing and somewhat surprised. The normally straight-laced and stoic CEO was quite rebellious in her teen years. Who knew? Kara sure as hell didn’t. 

As the night continues, the alcohol flows freely and the conversations ebb and flow into different topics. Kara thinks they’ve finally ventured away from the stories of their younger years and she breathes a sigh of relief. She never really did anything rebellious, she has always been more of a good girl, a rule follower. She couldn’t really get into trouble while trying to hide her identity. The two weren’t compatible.

But…not many people know about her first job. The one she got right after graduating college to pay for her first apartment in National City. It’s not something she tells many people. Especially since it came about by accident. She’s not ashamed of it, she’s just not sure how people will react to it. The times it has come out in conversations, reactions have been mixed. Plus, she sighs internally, if Alex is around, she always pushes her to tell The Story™ about the break-in. It isn’t something she likes to share.

Again, not because she is ashamed, it’s just that the way she got the job comes up and okay, that part is embarrassing. People usually laugh, tease her about it. And okay, she can see how it might be objectively funny, but she just…whatever. She’s a grown ass woman now. 

Still, she doesn’t want to tell The Story™ in front of Sam, Andrea, and Lena. She already gets teased by Alex about it and she knows Sam and Andrea won’t let her live it down. And Lena, Rao. They’ve been dating for a few months now and have had sex so they’ve discussed things. Kara knows Lena was a little surprised when she brought so much knowledge to those conversations, but she’s never asked about it.

In fact, of all the people currently sitting in this room, Alex is the only one who knows The Story™. Maybe Kelly because they talk about everything, but yeah. It’s not a story anyone else in the room knows and Kara wants to keep it that way. She’s managed it for years, maybe her luck will continue.

Just as she begins to relax, thinking she has managed to dodge the story and keep her secret for another day, she hears her name. When she shakes herself from her inner dialogue, six pairs of eyes are on her. 

“What?” Kara asks, looking from face to face before her eyes land on her sister. Her shoulders sink. She knows that look, that’s The Story™ look. Fuck. She is not going to be able to escape it, but she has to try. “Did I miss something?” 

Alex grins, a mischievous glint in her brown eyes. “We were just talking about our first full-time jobs. Andrea was under the impression that working for CatCo is the only full-time job you’ve ever had.” She tilts her head and smirks at her now nervous sister. “I corrected her, but that story is so much better when it comes from you. Care to share, Kara?” 

She sighs and drops her chin to her chest, this isn’t what she had in mind when she requested a Girl’s Night with her friends. Not even close. To be fair, she’s a little shocked Alex hasn’t somehow forced this story out before now. She is also definitely not drunk enough for this conversation either, so she makes a decision.

Kara bolts up from her seat, glass in hand. “If I am telling The Story™ I need more alcohol.” She sends pleading eyes to her girlfriend before turning to make a quick exit to the kitchen, Lena following close behind.

“Hey.” Lena’s soft voice, full of concern, breaks the silence. She walks around the island to stand next to her unusually quiet girlfriend. “Are you okay, Darling? If you want me to kick everyone out for the evening, I will. I can have Frank take everyone home.” She smoothes the now prominent crinkle between the blonde’s eyes, waiting for a response.

“No, it’s fine. This was bound to come up in conversation eventually. Honestly, I just hoped it wouldn’t be tonight.” She lets out a long sigh before burying her head into Lena’s neck, breathing in her comforting lavender scent.

Lena wraps her arms around her favorite person, placing a soft kiss to her temple before pulling her close. “You know, I always assumed CatCo was your first job too. We’ve never really talked about it.” She feels Kara pull away with a slight grimace on her face. Their eyes meet and Lena raises a brow at the Kryptonian.

Kara shrugs. “It’s what most people assume. I just don’t correct them.” She chuckles as she pulls the Aldebaran rum from the cabinet and pours a very full glass. Taking a big gulp, she winces at the slow burn moving down her throat. “I suppose I should get this over with, huh? Let everyone get their laughter and teasing quota in for the evening.”

Green eyes watch her curiously, taking in this peculiar behavior from the blonde. She’s seen Kara wary of things, but she’s not sure she’s ever seen her like this. It isn’t apprehension, it seems to be more like resignation, but she’s not sure what to make of it. 

“Kara, you don’t have to tell anyone anything. If this makes you uncomfortable, we can put a stop to it. Just say the word.” Lena says, a fiery determination on her face. 

A warm bubble of affection bursts in Kara’s chest before genuine laughter escapes her mouth. She smiles and kisses the dark-haired woman right on the enticing pout in front of her. “No, no. It’s fine. It’s an objectively funny story, just a little embarrassing. Besides, I’m also curious as to how you will react.” She waggles her brows and places one more soft kiss to Lena’s lips before dragging them both back to the rest of their friends.

The blonde takes a deep breath and reclaims her seat on the couch, Lena’s warm presence next to her and the warmth of the alien liquor in her system finally giving her the courage to expose her current biggest secret.

“My first job was at a sex shop called Cherry Poppins Toys & Trinkets.” She pauses for what she knows will be gasps of disbelief, glancing around the room at the faces of some of her closest friends. True to her assumptions, most of the eyes staring back at her are wide and disbelieving. The only exceptions are Alex, Kelly, and surprisingly, Nia.

Nia tilts her head to the side and takes a sip of her drink before she leans forward, a knowing smile on her face. “Well, there are several things that make a lot more sense now.” The brunette giggles. “When I came to you about that article I wrote a couple of years ago about spicing up things in the bedroom, you knew way more than I expected you to. Now I know why!”

Kara sighs in exasperation. “I’m not nearly as innocent as everyone seems to think I am!” She scoffs, cutting her eyes at her sister in anticipation of what’s coming.

Alex lets out a really loud guffaw, her laughter jostling Kelly and making the rest of the group snap their eyes toward the redhead. “Oh Kara…my dear sweet sister. We all know you aren’t so innocent now, especially since dating Lena, I’m sure.” She smirks at the raven haired woman next to her, chuckling at the middle finger flipped in her direction. “But, please enlighten our friends on how you got that job.” She sips her scotch before leaning back into the cushion, snuggling into her wife’s side.

If looks could kill, Alex would be dead. She’s sure of it. The look she’s getting from Kara is filled with malice and daggers. She just smiles and winks at the blonde. Her mind is at peace, watching Lena absorb this story is worth every bit of ire from her sister. So, she relaxes and waits. Her part of the story will be here soon enough. 

After looking around the room at her friends one more time and get a reassuring squeeze from her girlfriend, Kara begins her tale:

“I was looking online for jobs. I had just graduated from NCU and gotten my first apartment. At that point, I was applying for almost anything because I just needed something to pay rent. I came across this ad for retail sales at Cherry Poppins Toys & Trinkets and thought, why not? How hard can it be to sell toys and trinkets?”

She pauses her story to take a drink of liquid courage, noticing the half smirk on her girlfriend’s face. Shaking her head, she continues:

“A few days later, I got a call from the manager of the store to come in for an interview. The instructions were to go to the back door of the building so I didn’t know what kind of things were being sold until later. I genuinely thought it was toys and trinkets…you know, like a Schwartz toy store.”

The uproarious laughter at that statement yanked her out of her story and she covered her face with a grumble. Lifting her face, she glares at her sister before turning to the rest of the group. “Look, if you guys want the rest of the story, you’re going to have to stop interrupting me. This is serious!” She harumphs and crosses her arms, making the group laugh even harder.  She rolls her eyes and sits silently, waiting.

“Okay, okay. Settle down, let her finish.” Sam chimes in, wiping the tears of laughter from her face before settling back in next to Andrea. The couple share a soft smile before returning their attention to Kara.

“Are you sure you’re done?” She flicks her eyes between everyone before dropping them back onto her hands actively twisting in her lap. “Anyway, I went in for the interview…”

“I opened the back door and stepped inside to what seemed to be a storeroom. It looked pretty normal. Boxes, shelves, labels, nothing to indicate anything outside of the toy store I imagined. The manager, John, came out to greet me and took me into his office for the interview. 

Now, what happens next was a little odd to me at the time and looking back it was obvious, but I was 21 and still not used to Earth’s customs so I just rolled with it. John brought out this…apparatus that was a very lifelike replica of a bare bottom.”

Kara growls as another round of belly laughs interrupts her telling of The Story™. This time she doesn’t say anything. She sits, silently waiting for the laughter to subside. Once it is quiet again, she makes eye contact with each of them trying to convey her frustration.

“Alright. Let’s get ourselves together and listen.” Lena clears her throat, quickly wiping away her own tears of laughter before she continues. “Go ahead, Darling. Finish your story, we’ll do our best not to interrupt you again.” Green eyes glare at the rest of the group before gently squeezing Kara’s leg in encouragement.

She sighs, throws her head back and stares at the ceiling before finally continuing, hopefully finishing this time.

“John had me…spank the bare bottom several times. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for at first, but later he told me that I kept my composure better than anyone else before me. I realize now it was because people probably laugh their asses off. For me it was pretty confusing because I assumed it was for some lifelike doll…which, looking back, I suppose it was.”

She laughs at her younger self. In hindsight, this story is pretty damn funny. If it were one of her friends, she’d probably be laughing hysterically as well. This line of thought seems to release something inside her and she smiles. The rest of the story should be easy.

“At this point, I still didn’t realize that it was a sex shop. I hadn’t seen the store and nothing about the storeroom indicated otherwise. Granted, I should have realized that spanking a prosthetic ass was a dead giveaway, but I’m an alien for Rao’s sake. I’d never seen anything like that in my entire life!

So, you can imagine, on my first day when I walked into the store, I was shocked. It was wall-to-wall dicks, vibrators, and all sorts of contraptions I didn’t know existed. Most of the day was spent with some shade of rosy embarrassment from head to toe. As much as I wanted to turn tail and run right out of there, I needed the job so I stuck it out. I learned a lot about sex and people in those two years I worked there.”

She grins at her friends, pausing briefly to wink at Lena. “Now, the really crazy part of my time working there happens about six months before I started working at CatCo…” Kara briefly glances at Alex before continuing her story.

“It was a Friday morning. We didn’t typically open until noon because the weekends were our busiest days with the latest hours. By this time, I was the assistant manager at the store so it wasn’t uncommon for me to open the store or close up at night. John and I had become friends at this point too so work was actually a lot of fun. Anyway, he had to drive up to our distribution center to sort out a shipment that had gotten delayed and left me in charge. 

Since we opened at noon, I would usually get there around 10:45 to get things ready. However, on this particular day, one of our alarms was triggered. I got a call from the security company that an internal motion sensor was activated. It was shocking because we had very good security and had never had an issue. After telling them to call the police, I headed to the store.

Now, in order to understand the story, I need to tell you the layout of the store. Upstairs was where most of the really risque, more fetish and BDSM stuff was kept. No one was allowed up there without a member of the staff accompanying them. The bottom floor was where most customers stayed.

The layout of the first floor consisted of five zones. Imagine it from left to right. Zone 1 was all the porn DVD’s. Zone 2 was all of our lower end sex toys, all the more tame offerings in the lower price ranges. Zone 3 was the higher end sex toys and more…advanced offerings. It was where the realistic asses were kept.”

She smiles and looks around at her friends, once again winking at her girlfriend. They are all grinning and seem to be amused by her story. Taking a sip of her rum, she sits her glass down, presses a soft kiss to Lena’s cheek and keeps going.

“Zone 4 was the checkout where we spent most of our shift. And finally, Zone 5 was all the wearables - we called it the ‘lingerie, leather, and lace’ section. Each section had a camera directly focused on it as well as various other cameras throughout the store. There were motion sensors that were active when the store was armed and alarms on all the doors. Another bonus is that we weren’t far from one of the local police precincts.

To say that John and I were shocked about the break-in is an understatement. In the 18 months I had been there, we hadn’t had any issues and John said he’d never had any in the 3 years he’d been there before me. This thief was very savvy. They broke one of the windows on the lower level close to the lower end toys in Zone 2. For some reason, the alarms were only set to go off if the upper windows were breached and not these. 

When the thief got in, they pretty much had the run of the store as long as they stayed clear of the motion sensors. Based on what I saw when I got there to meet the cops, the thief was initially after the DVD’s. Unfortunately for them, we keep the discs in a locked cabinet behind the checkout so the cases on the display are all empty.”

Kara chuckles and glances over at Alex, both of them have an amused twinkle in their eyes. She smiles at her sister and proceeds.

“The crook was clever, they were wearing a full bodysuit to cover their face and all their skin so their identity was well masked. When we watched the security footage back, it was evident that when the thief couldn’t get the DVD’s they decided to randomly grab whatever they could. However, instead of going for the high end toys and wearables, the sports car equivalent of goods for sexual pleasure, they stuffed as many of the cheapest, flimsiest dildos, foulest bottles of lube, and random edible things into their backpack. They did all that without triggering any alarms too. It wasn’t until they were climbing out of the broken window that they nicked one of the motion sensors on some of the more expensive products and kicked off the alarms. 

Once that alarm was triggered, I got the phone call and dispatched the police. By the time I got to the store, the woman my sister was dating at the time, who was a detective at the precinct up the street, was there waiting for me. Maggie and I were working through what was taken and documenting all the goods stolen. I still laugh about how many times Maggie had to write the words dildo, edible underwear, and lube in that report. 

What I didn’t know at the time was Maggie texted Alex to let her know the store had been broken into and Alex was making her way there to check on me. Maggie and I had been there for about 30 minutes before we heard a commotion outside the door.” 

She grins widely and nods her head at Alex, giving her permission to take over the telling of the story.

“I love telling this part of the story.” Alex beams, placing her empty tumbler on the table in front of her and leaning forward on the couch. The redhead claps her hands together as she dives into her part of the story. 

“I parked at a restaurant a block or so away. We went there a lot so I knew the owner and I figured we could grab some lunch once everything was squared away. As I was walking toward the scene, I saw this guy running toward me like a madman. There are things flying out of his backpack and he seems like he’s running from something. I pause for a minute and step to the side, not wanting to get taken out by the guy. 

That’s when I realized he was leaving a trail of dildos, lube, and edible underwear in his wake. It was like a tsunami of cheap sex aids covering the sidewalk around us. I had already grabbed my badge so I just called out for him to stop and flashed it up at him. Within seconds, the guy was on his knees in front of me, his palms up and sobbing out ‘It was MeEeEnnE!!! I stole the diLDoS!!!’”

The entire room erupts into laughter. There isn’t a dry eye in the entire place. It’s how this story always ends…lots of laughter and disbelief. When it all eventually dies down, Kara notices that Lena has gotten very quiet and she has a contemplative look on her face. Her plump bottom lip is trapped between her pristine white teeth and there is a faraway look in her malachite eyes.

Nia is the first to speak, pulling them all out of their brief silence. “Okay, I can’t believe you didn’t tell us that you worked at a sex shop before, Kara. This is pertinent information that you’ve been holding back!” She scoffs at her friend. “Also, that was the dumbest thief I’ve ever heard of. He took all the cheapest shit you had instead of the good shit. And…there’s a 24 hour coffee shop right next door to Cherry Poppins! He could have stayed there until the coast was clear and made off with his stash. What. An. Idiot.”

“Seriously! That’s where Drea and I usually go after our Poppins shopping trips.” Sam chimes in, shaking her head in disbelief before catching what she just revealed. She quickly clears her throat and changes the subject. “You’ve been holding out, Kara. You could have given us recommendations! You probably know more about this stuff than Lena does.” She smirks at her friend before looking at Andrea with a wink.

Andrea grins. “Yeah, Lena has been our go-to all this time and you’re the actual hidden expert sitting right in front of us.” The brunette looks over to her childhood friend and laughs. She nudges Sam and whispers, “She’s having some thoughts right now, connecting some things.”

They both giggle and watch as Lena’s hand drifts up to her still captured bottom lip, brushing lightly back and forth against the soft skin. Her green eyes are still glassy and staring past the room currently occupied. Right as they are about to say something, Lena speaks.

“So, this whole time, you’ve been holding out on me?!” Lena’s voice comes out far more breathy and deeper than she wanted. Her eyes suddenly focus intently on Kara’s. “Wait! This makes so much more sense now. This is why you know so much about the…”

“NO!!!” Alex screeches. “Do. Not. Finish. That. Sentence. Lena. Luthor.” She points a menacing finger in the direction of her friend, her sister’s girlfriend. 

The rest of the room laughs, but all of them notice the look of wanton desire on the CEO’s face, the way she is not so subtly devouring Kara with her eyes. It slowly becomes evident that they need to get out of this apartment before they see something they can’t ever forget. 

Lena slowly moves her gaze from Kara over to Alex before a devilish smirk plays across her lips. “Then I suggest you say your goodbyes, Agent Danvers.” She languidly licks her lips and lets her eyes track down Kara’s body again before looking back at the rest of their friends. “All of you should probably call it a night. I have some things to talk to my girlfriend about and we don’t need an audience.”

She pauses for a moment, quirks her brow, and looks directly into cerulean eyes with a smirk. “Unless you’re into that? Seems there’s quite a few things I don’t know about you…yet.”

“Yep, Yes! Okay.” Alex says, bolting up from the couch. “I think it’s definitely time to go.” She grabs Kelly’s hand to pull her off the couch and is quickly followed by Nia. The three of them grab their belongings and dash toward the door.

“Just leave everything, we will clean up tomorrow. Frank is waiting downstairs to see you home.” Lena smiles, her eyes drifting over to the remaining two people occupying the adjacent oversized chair. “That’s your queue to make your way down to the guest apartment. Don’t worry, the penthouse is sound proof so you won’t hear anything.” 

Andrea and Sam both laugh. Having known Lena the longest, they are familiar with her antics. They both roll their eyes as they stand and gather their things to head to the floor below and the apartment they are staying in while visiting National City. 

“I would say have fun tonight, but I don’t think that’ll be an issue.” Sam winks, pulling her girlfriend toward the door. “We’ll see you guys for brunch tomorrow.”

As the door closes behind them, Lena turns and straddles Kara’s lap. As her lips hover just above the blonde’s, she rubs her nose against her girlfriends and takes a deep breath. “I think we have some things to discuss, Miss Danvers.” Kara grins and lifts them from the couch, drifting toward the bedroom. “You’ve certainly been holding out on me and surely you have things to show me.”

And that’s how Lena found out Kara once worked at Cherry Poppins Toys & Trinkets.

[artificial-transmutations]

Two sides of the same coin - Road to Success

"You know, they should just, like, close that place down." Alden said and took another deep drag. Devan, his pal, nodded eagerly and waited for Alden to give him the blunt.

Both young men sat at their usual spot in the park opposite of the big Financial Applications Partnership bank and smoked weed. Other guys in their age were probably in college right now, learning for their future, but not those two. They started smoking weed together back in high school and had not stopped ever since. Learning, working or earning money was such a foreign concept for them. Sure, they had their part time jobs to pay for rent, but it was not something they enjoyed doing or wanted. It was a necessity in that exploitative capitalistic system they had to live in that didn't let two fine young men do what they wanted all day long. In their case, this was relaxing in the park and smoking weed. Fuck the system, really.

"Or really, all the banks." Alden continued. "Who needs money anyway? Right?"

Finally, he passed the blunt to Devan who took a drag and smiled.

"Yeah dude. Money is the worst."

Then, he made a serious face for a moment and asked. "But imagine, dude. What would you do if you had like, a ton of money? What would you buy?"

Alden was distracted for a moment by a glittering object next to his old sneaker. When he picked it up, it was a shiny coin, sparkling in the sunlight. He pocketed it quickly. He kept his money in his pocket because he believed that wallets were for rich people.

Too late he realized that Devan had asked him a question.

"Sorry dude", he smiled, "what were you saying?"

Devan shrugged and took another puff before passing the blunt over again.

"If you had, like a million dollars or even a billion. What would you do with it?"

Alden thought about it for a while, then answered honestly.

"I'd probably spend it all on weed." Then he smacked his forehead. "No, wait! I probably couldn't smoke all that weed by myself, right? So, I would just buy everyone weed, tons of weed."

Devan laughed heartily.

"Yeah man. And we could have parties every day!"

They both laughed at the idea of having parties every day. That sounded great to them.

"But how would I even get so much money?"

Devan looked around and pointed the building at the other side.

"Perhaps you'd work at the FAP bank?"

Both laughed again, the notion was ridiculous.

"Then I would probably, like, need to go to college or even university, right? That sounds like so much work."

Some subtle changes occurred to Alden's face. His hair straightened itself and his beard got a little less messy.

"Yeah, and look at you, you wouldn't even be accepted by university. Not with these dirty shoes of yours." Devan joked and took the blunt back. Neither of the two men found it odd in the least as Devan’s own shoes dissolved suddenly, leaving him bare-footed. Shortly after, his feed became black and leathery, becoming clean black lace up shoes.

Alden nodded and got out of his shoes, putting on the new ones that were Devan’s feet just a few moments ago.

"But if I were in university, I would probably ace all my classes, because I'd be really smart. And don't forget I'd play baseball. I'd be the star of the team and win all games."

This time, the changes were more extreme. Alden’s body pumped up with muscles and his new shoes transformed into cleats.

"You would need proper baseball pants for that. No way you could play with those torn jeans."

Immediately, Devan's pants vanished and revealed his legs, balls and cock, which quickly began to change. While his legs became a pair of white baseball pants, his cock and balls hardened into a sports cup and jockstrap.

"Duh, of course." Alden was already discarding his old pants and fastened the athletic cup around his groin with the jockstrap before he pulled up his new pants.

"It would of course take a while to graduate, but I would surely be top of my class. I could apply at the bank then."

Alden quickly gained a few years and his whole appearance became more cultivated. His beard disappeared and his hair became well-groomed and dyed blond.

Devan, who was now literally only half the man he used to be laughed. "As if they would even consider you if you showed up in a t-shirt. A button-up is the least they'd expect."

Immediately, his torso flattened and folded in on itself, depositing his head on the bench with the blunt still in his mouth. What was once his arms and chest formed into a neat white button-up shirt.

Alden nodded seriously and changed into his new shirt. He looked smart and neat now, with his muscles straining the shirt just the right amount.

"Of course, I can't expect to make a fortune from one day to the next. It will take me at least 20 years of hard work to establish myself in the company and raise through the ranks to upper management."

Even his speech pattern was different now, but his changes were not quite over yet. His hard earned university muscles degraded somewhat again, as more and more years piled up in him, leaving him a mid-40s ex-jock. Still attractive, but with the hard cold eyes you need in order to be really successful.

"Just imagine wearing a tie everyday..." Devan joked, as the last part of him, his head, changed and transformed into a blue silk tie.

Alden nodded politely and quickly put on his tie with movements he did a thousand times before. Then he grabbed his cigar that had fallen to the bench next to him and sighed. That cigar did cost more than other men earned in a month. Still, it had fallen to the dirty bank, so he would have to throw it away. It didn't matter. He was successful and rich now, what did he care for people less successful than him?

He straightened his expensive suit and walked back to the FAP bank. Time to make more money.

If you like the theme, be sure to check out my other stories of the same kind!

[scarletsaphire]

Danny, newly added to the cheer team (mostly) against his will, is attending his first lock in with the girls. It's a lot more fun than he expected.

--

4th fic for @phicphight, with this one going to @lavendarlily and @lonelygrayrose, with a special shout out to @hannahmanderr because she asked politely. Prompts used will be at the end!

Danny had accepted that he didn't get much control over his life. Ever since he'd died, he was getting pulled one way or another for ghost fights or school or family stuff. It really came to its worst point went he'd been more or less bullied into joining the cheer team. Sam and Tucker were not help; they thought it was hilarious.

It did mean that the already minuscule amount of free time he had was filled with practice, or games, or other team building exercises. Like right now; the annual lock in for the cheer team, hosted in Casper High one and only cafeteria. Really pulling out all the stops.

Danny had been dreading it since it was announced two weeks ago; knowing his luck, there would be some kind of ghost attack, and then he'd have to play the whole "Oh I've been here the whole time!" game. And if that didn't happen, he'd be stuck in the cafeteria with the cheer leader girls for twelve hours straight! Sure, they were nice enough, especially since he joined the team, but that didn't mean they were friends!

It had only taken an hour for Danny to change his opinion.

The parent chaperone very clearly did not care about what they got up to, provided no one broke a bone or stole something where she could see. This allowed them to roll all of the tables off the walls of the cafeteria and construct a complicated and completely unsafe obstacle course for them to run through.

The first two girls had already given it their best shot; the first one, Abigail, who Danny had never seen without bows in her hair, had made it pretty far for being the first one through, but her hair had gotten tangled in one of the wheels, and the official score keeper (who was, of course, Paulina) gave her a DNF. She was currently off to the side with Star, getting her tied back into a braid and watching the spectacle.

The second girl, Brittany, had finished, if her time was a bit sad. "I don't want a repeat of that!" she'd said while the rest of  them teased her about her terrible performance. "I just got these braids put in on Monday, and I am not spending another four hours to get them redone!"

They were going in alphabetical order, so that meant Danny was next up. He lifted his arms above his head to stretch while he analyzed the course.

They'd done a pretty good job, if he did say so himself. There were several tables that he would need to go under, several he'd need to jump, and one they'd set up to require jumping on the seats instead of on the table. A bit rudimentary, sure, but it worked for their purposes.

"So, Danny Fenton," Paulina said, holding her water bottle out towards him like a microphone. "As the only boy on the team, you have quite the reputation to try and uphold. Do you have a strategy going into this?"

Danny flashed her a grin he normally saved for when he was Phantom. "Course I do."

Paulina returned the smile, and leaned in closer. "And what would that be?"

"And spoil the surprise? Not a chance."

Paulina laughed, leaning back on her seat of backpacks, blankets, and pillows. "You're setting high expectations, Fenton. You ready?"

Danny nodded, settling into a running stance.

"Three, two, one, go!"

He started running to the cheers of his teammates.He hadn't lied; he did have a strategy, and it didn't involve any kind of ghost powers. He wouldn't need them.

Danny had spent the better part of two years dodging bullets, ray beams, fire, boomerangs, bazookas, and about a dozen other, faster, much more painful objects. Two years honing reaction speed, flexibility, and spatial awareness, all of which would help him decimate the past two times, and anyone else who wanted to race after him.

Okay, maybe the practice part did involve ghost powers, but he wouldn't be using any now.

He vaulted over the first table cleanly, chaining the momentum to roll underneath the next table in one fluid motion. He came to his feet already running, ready to vault over the next two tables. In what felt like a heartbeat, he was already at the end obstacle, where he'd have to hop back and forth on the seats without touching the table; if he touched it, that would mean an immediate disqualification.

It didn't prove to be any more difficult than any other obstacle had been, although it was significantly slower. Danny leapt off of the final seat straight into a backflip, landing perfectly on his feet.

That part wasn't required; he just felt like flexing a little.

His grand finish was met with the roaring applause of the eight girls; Abigail had even started whistling, much to Star's annoyance, as she was still trying to fix her hair.

"And that is two minutes and twenty seven seconds!" Paulina called from her makeshift chair.

"Damn!" Alysha said. "That is going to be a tough time to beat!"

"Thank you, thank you," Danny said, taking an exaggerated bow. "I'll be here all night."

Alysha shoved his shoulder even while she laughed.

Danny made his way back to the spot he'd claimed, a little bit to the side of Paulina's seat.

"I am so happy we recruited you," she said as he sat down.

"Yeah," Danny agreed. "I am too."

As surprising as it was, it was true. Maybe he'd originally gotten the spot because of his ghost fighting and powers, but it had quickly become the only (mostly) ghost free thing he had. He'd never gotten that kind of luxury at home, and while he loved Sam and Tucker to death, it was way to easy for their hangouts to become patrols or planning patrols. Or homework, but that didn't count.

There was the additional fact that being on the cheer team had made Danny's life easier at school; the teacher's were more lenient with schoolwork, he had a different group of people he could sit with if Sam and Tucker were out sick, or if they got absorbed in their infamous debates, and everyone was just so much nicer to him.

Even Dash had stopped with the bullying, and after a couple stilted conversations and an emotionally charged apology that was leagues beyond what he'd thought Dash capable of, Danny would be willing to call them friends.

Definitely just friends though. It didn't matter that Tucker had caught him staring at Dash several times during lunch or that he got all flustered whenever they ended up in the locker room together. That was a coincidence. 

Just like Danny had expected, none of the girls came even close to his time. Star got a strong second place at three minutes flat, which was very impressive on its own, but his natural talent and years of practice held him high above the rest.

"You have to tell us how you did that," Aubrey said, jutting out her bottom lip. It was the same look she gave Coach Tetslaff every time she tried to extend practice.

Unfortunately for her, it worked just as well on Danny as it did on Coach. "Yeah, sure. Right after I tell you how I handle flying so well."

"Ugh." Aubrey flopped forward into a heap on the table. "You are. So mean."

The sound of a cellphone ringing cut off whatever Danny was going to say next. The team glanced back at the chaperone, who had settled in a corner of the room with a laptop, a thermos Danny swore was full of hard liquor, and headphones. They all sat in silence as she answered the phone.

"Hello? Uhuh. Yeah, I'll be right up. Everything should already be paid for, right? Good." She hung up the phone with a snap and stood from her spot. "Pizza's here. You kids sit tight, I'll be right back."

The group stayed quiet until her footsteps disappeared down the hallway outside of the door, before everyone shared a conspiratory look. Everyone but Danny, that is.

"Uh... what did I miss?" Danny asked.

Aubrey and Abigail stood up, one moving to the window of the door, the other to the chaperone's bag. The other girls all shared the same look again. 

"Did nobody tell you?" Dakota asked.

Danny ran over the incredibly short list of things he'd been told about the lock in, which was basically just that it was a lock in, before shaking his head. "Tell me what?"

"Oh, Ms. Pachelli is a total drunk," Paulina said. "I'm sure you've noticed its not apple juice in her thermos?"

Danny nodded his head.

"Well, that's not enough to last her a whole night, even on a good day, and dealing with us is never a good day in her books." Paulina studied her fingernails while Abigail fished a bottle of whiskey out of her backpack. "So, every year we switch out her spare bottle for one of Abby's parents' old empty ones."

Sure enough, Abigail pulled out an identical bottle from Ms. Pachelli's bag.

"And... you don't get in trouble for that?"

The rest of team all giggled. "Please," Star said dismissively. "She barely cares about us to begin with, and if she tries to get us in trouble, she'd have to admit she has a problem."

"She's coming," Aubrey hissed from the door, and Abigail made a dash back to her backpack. By the time Ms. Pachelli was back in the room, three steaming pizza pies in hand, the whole team was doing a perfect imitation of teenagers who weren't up to anything.

"It'll be over here when you girls are hungry," she said, setting them down where food was normally served. "Uh. You girls and Danny." She amended when she turned around to see them all pointing at him, a habit they'd developed with Coach Tetslaff. Ms. Pachelli settled back down in her corner, taking one, long swig from her thermos, and putting her headphones back on.

The rest of the team

"She'll fall asleep soon," Dakota whispered to Danny. "That's when the real party starts."

Sure enough, it had barely passed 1 AM before Ms. Pachelli had dozed off and the team was left completely unsupervised. Brittany went to make sure she was sleep, and after fiddling with the headphones, she shot a thumbs up at the group. Abigail pulled the bottle back out to the cheers of the team.

"It's time for the real party to get started!" Dakota called.

"Don't we need to stay quiet?" Danny asked.

Star shook her head. "Nah, she's got some video playing in the background. I don't even think a ghost attack would be loud enough to wake her."

"I think its flat earth videos this time," Brittany added. "Definitely looked like it from what I saw, at least."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Why is she even here? If she sucks and also hates all of you-" he ignored whoever called out "She hates you too!" "-why does she volunteer to do it?"

"We ask for her by name," Abigail said, passing the now opened bottle to Paulina.

Paulina took a swig straight from the container before passing it on to Brittany. "That, and if she didn't volunteer for this, she'd have to actually do something at any of the other events the school hosts. She's part of the PTA." 

"Ok, but that doesn't explain why she has to be on the PTA," Danny pointed out.

"Uh, duh, she's Derreck's mom. You can't have a kid in as many extracurriculars as he's in and not be on the PTA," Star said.

"I guess," Danny agreed. He still didn't really understand, but he also didn't want to spend the whole night asking about Ms. Pachelli's life. Besides, the bottle had reached him. He took a small sip from the bottle, and pulled a face at the unexpected burn.

The girls laughed.

"First time tasting alcohol?" Audrey teased, taking the bottle from his hands.

Danny rubbed the back of his neck. "It's not the first time. I just. Didn't expect it to taste like that."

The girls all shared a look before laughing harder.

"It is going to be a fun night," Paulina said, a mischievous smile on her face.

--

Danny wasn't sure what time it was anymore. He knew that a couple of the girls had conked out, with Aubrey being the first to fall about an hour ago. He knew that he wasn't getting any sleep tonight, and from the looks of it, neither was Dakota, who was blasting music from her phone and dancing on one of the tables. She'd been the one to hog most of the bottle.

Not that Danny was complaining; he was definitely not sober, although he couldn't say whether he was tipsy or drunk or somewhere in between or another word he wasn't privy to. Either way, he was drunk enough that he'd agreed to let Paulina and Star do his makeup, something he would never have agreed to without the help of the whiskey.

"Stop moving," Star said, holding him by the shoulders and looking into his eyes, as if she could psychically control him into not moving. Jokes on her, Danny knew how mind control worked, and it was only sometimes like that. "Or else we're gonna-" she hiccoughed, then continued as if nothing had happened, "-mess up your makeup."

"Yeah," Paulina said. "And you don't want to look like a mess for Dash, do you?"

Danny snapped his head towards her, nearly poking his own eye out with the makeup applicator she was using.

"Stooop!" Star said, turning his head back towards her.

Danny obeyed, but he turned his eyes to look at Paulina. "Why would I care about what Dash thinks?"

He could just barely make out her flat stare from the corner of his vision. "Because you like him?"

"I do not!" Danny protested.

Star giggled while Paulina talked over her. "Danny, we have eyes, you know. And we've seen yours wandering to him every time he's anywhere near you."

Danny opened his mouth to protest, but Star pushed it shut. "Nuh uh. Lipstick first." He tried again, but was met with the same result. "I will smear this all over your teeth do not test me Fenton." This time, Danny obeyed.

 By the time he had finished, his initial protests had already died out. It wasn't like they were wrong; he just hadn't realized he'd been so obvious about it. "Fine. I might have a little crush."

"Well if by "little crush" you mean that you're head over heels in love with my best friend, then yeah, I know you have a little crush on him."

"Hey!" Star cried. "I thought I was your best friend?"

"Best boy friend," Paulina corrected. "But not boyfriend boyfriend. We tried dating, but he's not interested in me. Which, you know, I was insulted with originally, but he's just not into any girls, so the fact that he was into me enough to try dating is a win."

"So, he likes-"

"Boys, yeah."

"Which means you have a chance," Paulina added. "But only if you sit still and let us make you look pretty!"

Danny really didn't think he had been moving around all that much, but he made sure to sit even stiller now.

"You're gonna need to be the one who asks him out."

Star nodded. "He's worried about doing something wrong, cause he was so mean to you before." Star paused at Paulina's glare. "Oh. Was that a part I wasn't supposed to share?"

"Yes," Paulina said, annoyed. "But it's too late now."

"Wait, hold on, what?"

"Oh, he likes you too," Paulina said. "It's gotten kind of annoying, listening to him go on and on about how 'cool' you look doing flips and everything."

Danny felt his face heating up more. "I mean. I just. I don't really know how to ask someone out?"

"Oh trust me, I know," Paulina laughed. "Don't think I've forgotten all the shit you pulled during freshman year."

Danny's face burned even hotter.

"Polly, you're embarrassing him!" Star said, but she couldn't stop a giggle of her own. "We're supposed to be helping!"

"I know, I know, but I can't help it!" Paulina said, her laughter dying out.

"You two planned this?" Danny asked incredulously.

"I mean, we didn't not plan it?" Star replied.

"No, we planned it," Paulina corrected. "I think Abigail even put it on her itinerary, but she fell asleep, like a loser."

Star giggled again. "So we're taking over!"

"You've got to be more confident, flaco. You get all blushy and stutter, and give up halfway through, and while that's adorable, it's not going to work if you want results."

"We've seen you on the field, we know you can do it, so don't try to deny it," Star added.

"But that's an entirely different thing!"

"It's not that different," Paulina said.

 Star ignored her. "Then just pretend you're on the field! Put on a good show for him, and I guarantee he'll be drooling all over you. Just like he is during the games."

"He is not drooling about me during the games."

"Oh, he so is," Star countered. "You remember the game you first debuted?"

Danny nodded; while he'd done fine, the actual game had been a bit of a shit show. Casper High had lost, fourteen to nothing.

"Dash only fumbled that because he was so distracted by you," Paulina said. "Tripped right over his own feet, cost us the first points of the game, and it was all down hill from there. If you can do that when you aren't even trying, imagine what you can do to him when you are."

"I think we're done here," Star said, withdrawing from Danny.

"I think we've outdone ourselves," Paulina said, angling his face to admire their work. She grabbed a small mirror from her pocket and passed it over to him. "What do you think?"

He looked surprisingly good, much better than he expected considering the fact he was a boy and that the people doing his makeup were at least a little drunk.

"It looks good," Danny agreed.

"No," Star protested. "You look good, and you need to take that vibe with you when you ask Dash out tomorrow."

"Who said anything about tomorrow?"

"We did," Paulina said. "Because tomorrow, we're going to be dragging him with us to the park and finding a convenient excuse to leave him there alone."

"You're gonna swoop in, and you're gonna ask him out and save him from having to deal with us all day."

"Trust us. It'll be perfect."

"I don't-"

"Shh." Star put her finger over Danny's lips. "We're doing this, whether you show up or not."

"Which means we need our rest, and you need your beauty sleep."

"So shoo while we clean up."

Danny didn't really know what else to do besides walk back to his pile of stuff and get comfortable.

He guessed he was going to the park sometime tomorrow. He hadn't been planning on it, but that was ok. He was used to that.

--

Prompts:

LonelyGrayRose - "Well if by "little crush" you mean that you're head over heels in love with our best friend, then yeah, I know you have a little crush on [him/her]" lavendarlily - Who knew Danny Fenton was so agile? Paulina makes it her personal mission to get him on the cheer squad.

[ordinaryschmuck]

Hey, do you remember this irritating little turd?

Yeah, that one. From Foster's Home For Imaginary Friends. Remember how it was frequently annoying how he was constantly antagonistic towards his friends, made his own best friend be constantly annoyed by him, and was just sometimes the worst character in the show? Turns out that there's a reason for that.

Apparently, Craig McCracken WANTED Bloo to experience this neat little writing trick called "Character Development." But Cartoon Network, wanting more of an episodic sitcom, gave a big fat no to that idea. Because they wanted this series to have no continuity, they had to make sure that the characters couldn't develop. And that is...nonsense for a number of reasons.

#1

These shows came out the same time as Foster's:

The continuity wasn't MAJOR with these shows, you can still watch any episode at random from either of them and still have a good time. BUT they still had this sense of subtle progression where characters, villains, and little touches in the story. Granted, they're both more along the lines of action adventure stories instead of sitcoms, but KND is a lot more or less the same as Foster's in terms of characters going on goofy adventures and being a comedy for kids. It just so happened that the comedy could be taken a little seriously at times. Besides...

#2

Sitcoms CAN have character development and continuity. You can watch any episode of either of these shows too, BUT there's a noticeable sense of character progression and continuity from all of them. Sometimes it's something simple as a character dating someone else at a certain point or a change in location or even when a character is working a certain job or not. Character development and continuity can still exist and work in making an episode enjoyable without previous context, but seeing these characters grow, even in subtle ways, is great. Mainly because...

#3

Character development is NOT a bad thing. Far from it, in fact. If anything, it makes watching a show more interesting as you can look back at how a character USED to act with a fond nostalgia of "Man, remember when they used to act like THAT?" And then look at how they CURRENTLY act with the sense of, "Wow, this character's really grown up in the last few seasons." And while it feels SLOW in some cases, it gives the sense that the character can learn, grow, and BE BETTER despite how they might have started off. Even Foster's understood this, because...

#4

The Show HAS character development AND continuity. Like how Cheese just didn't exist in the show until a certain point and became a main stay for the entire series. Or how Goo was introduced as another main stay character. Not only that, but after her introduction as this overly imaginative little girl, she learned her lesson to cool down her over imagination so she wouldn't cause the exact same problems in the future but still faced a NEW problem with her imagination that she and the others could learn from. Like it or not, that IS character development AND continuity. It's just that other characters can experience it instead of Bloo. But fine. They wanted to make Bloo a stagnant character who never changes? Sure. I can accept that...Except for one last thing.

#5

DID THEY HAVE TO MAKE HIM SO IRREDEEMABLE?! In fairness, the bus episode IS entertaining, but that still shows how Bloo, as a character, went through regression instead of development. He's not the same as he started in the first season. Heck, he's not the same as he was in the FIRST THREE EPISODES. There, he was written as brash and a bit immature, but still apologetic and polite in certain spaces. He was even about to object to Wilt giving him the bed, but Wilt was too polite to let Bloo refuse his offer. If this was the Bloo in future seasons, he would have guilt tripped Wilt into giving him the bed and would have been the first to suggest Wilt would sleep on the floor.

If the show wasn't allowed to make Bloo develop, I can understand that. Networks and studios can kiss all the asses. But when it got to the point where I couldn't understand why Mac was friends with Bloo anymore, it leaves me wondering why they had to highlight his worst qualities instead of his best ones? To quote MY favorite character in this show, "I'm sorry, but that is NOT okay." The writers have my sympathy, it's not easy trying to appease your network overlords while still making the show good. But if Bloo's an example of anything, it's that studios should trust showrunners more and that character development is NEVER a sin.

[thana-topsy]

If you're up for sharing more writing tips, how can I tell if what I've written is actually any good? With writing I get stuck in a cycle of feeling like I'm the next Shakespeare while writing but then I'll look over my work a few days later and absolutely hate everything and think it's the most cringe shit ever, then I'll leave it a bit longer and think eh it's not as bad as I thought but still not great and so on. I feel like being forced to write for a grade during school and having everything be marked and assessed and assigned a particular value has robbed me of the ability to critically analyse my own work in a way that's objective and accurate but also fair and realistic. I can analyse other peoples' stuff till the cows come home but I lose all rational thought when it comes to my own stuff

Adding onto that, how do I get to the point where I can stop looking back at my old work and hating everything and wanting to delete it all? Realistically I know finding fault with my old stuff is good bc it means I've grown and improved from where I once was etc but at the same time I wanna enjoy stuff I've made in the past without cringing every time I read it

Hey there Nony, I wanted to let this one percolate a little bit before answering because I've been where you are. And it's a rough time for sure. But aside from my own experiences, I also wanted to get the opinions of some of my writerly friends in the fandom, too, since everyone is a little font of wisdom in their own right.

So I'm going to share their advice alongside my own, because this is kind of a complicated string of questions you're asking. Long post ahead!

@paraparadigm says to Keep Writing: "Write more. Write so much (and so many different things) that eventually the sheer volume bulldozes over self-devouring ego, comparison twitches, or feeling lost, because you don't yet know your own baseline. Coupled with "read more, read everything, read things you enjoy and things you don't, read for the craft as much as the entertainment." And: "I'd add that when revisiting old writing, it's helpful for me to differentiate between "ew the writing is not as technically solid as it is now" and "ah that's interesting, I guess that's where I was at then, emotionally and psychologically". Old writing is also a sort of archaeological record of your younger self, and that can, in fact, be a bit itchy to revisit, so learning to cherish that without passing judgement can be really helpful. I try to treat it like those little marks one puts on the door jamb to track a kid's height."

@mareenavee says "Part of it is writing more, as Para said and I will always second that. Another part is, honestly, the hardest part. It's to try very hard to get out of the habit of negative self-talk.... There's so much work involved with this but normalizing being proud of your work and having some grace with yourself is part of that answer."

@archangelsunited says "Early on, instead of going “this has to be a masterpiece” I would tell myself my only job was to tell a story. I couldn’t tell a story if I was deleting it. Also, talking about your work helps. The less ashamed I was of my writing, the more people wanted to read it. There is a need to hide your work, and that can lead to a downward spiral all its own. And, 90% of the time, you have to suck at something to learn to be good at something. The work you already wrote shouldn’t be the sum of all your skill, it should be one of those measuring sticks for the moment. Despite previous thought, you won’t be stuck at the same level forever."

@polypolymorph says "In addition to accumulating experience via reading and writing, you also have to be willing to reinvent the wheel. Unfortunately the Process™️ is unique to everyone, and even when you are deliberately mimicking a voice as, say, a ghost writer, you can't expect that 2+2=4 for you. Your process might look more like a Lotka-Volterra equation for the same type of work and that's okay. Trial and error is the best way to figure out what advice actually works for you--and if it doesn't, it doesn't mean you're wrong. Don't get stuck on pop writing advice like a sad roomba does on an upturned rug. Learn when to throw it out."

So there's some advice from some other excellent writers! I hope you've been able to find some value in their advice, because it certainly kicked me in the pants a few times.

As for me, I think, having been where you are, my biggest piece of advice is: Find joy in the craft. Get curious instead of critical. An artist shouldn't down themselves over a rough sketch when they're working out a drawing, so why would a writer do such a thing? Everything you write is practice. Everything you make has value because it builds up to the next thing you make.

At the end of the day, you are the only one who is capable of telling the stories that are in your head. This fact alone gives whatever you put onto paper value, regardless of quality. You are creating magic, in the most literal sense! Creating something out of nothing, conjuring images into someone else's mind from hundreds of thousands of miles away, transcending space and time. It's amazing!

Lastly, my final piece of advice is to just write for fun. Write things nobody else will ever see just because you wanted to get words onto paper. You have to unlearn what was drilled into you in school. You are more than a content creation machine. You are an artist, a wordsmith. And just know that there will never be a day when you look at your own work and say "That's it, I have achieved perfection."

Writing is a life-long journey. Just enjoy the ride!

[barry-j-blupjeans]

No one ever told Lucretia how hard it would be to get employees for your supposed-to-be-secret organization. Even harder with the fact that she couldn't even step around it like the Fantasy FBI could. All her opening lines sounded incredibly suspicious. Was she supposed to just walk up to someone and say "so you ever wanna capture those war-starting magic objects that you have no memory of?" She might actually be reported to the Fantasy FBI and that would put a bit of a dent in her "saving the world and stopping the Hunger" plan.

Instead, she had just been just kind of… going up to anyone who sort of seemed like a good fit and tried to make it sound as less shitty as possible without giving them a headache made entirely of Voidfish static. And it was working! Not as well as she'd want it to, of course, but she would take what she would get.

Maureen, obviously, had been there at the start. Lucretia couldn't exactly have a giant moon base without someone with enough money to build the giant moon base. Technically, technically, she was paying Maureen for it and she felt moderately bad about fucking up the economy with her transmuted gold coins (you pick up a thing or two about counterfeit currency when you're on the run from the apocalypse and also living with Taako and Lup), but not bad enough to stop doing it. Besides, the dang thing wasn't even up in the sky yet. Maybe she'd confess after, but it was too important to let out right now.

Then, she had Lucas, unfortunately. The side effect of working with Maureen. But she had other notable employees as well. Killian was probably her strongest asset right now, purely from her role as a Regulator and not a Reclaimer. Her Seekers were few and far between- she couldn't really hire anyone with too high of an intelligence stat, lest her whole plan be discovered. The few Seekers she did have were… well, they were working on it. The Reclaimers themselves… yeesh. It was hard to fill the role without losing too many to the Light's thrall. She didn't want to have a goddamn death trap as a job.

But right now, Lucretia wasn't looking for a Reclaimer, a Seeker, or even a Regulator. Today, she was looking for a bard.

A pathetic bard, if she could. There was only so much nonsense Lucretia could feed Fisher without going moderately to severely insane. The goal right now was to just find someone. No one that would be missed down planetside when they finally got up into the air, no one whose fans would be eagerly awaiting a new release. Just a plain ol' regular bard.

This was the fifth seedy bar Lucretia had visited in the past week. This time, it was in a little town called Water Way, just off the sword coast. The wind was howling when she arrived and it snapped the door shut behind her when she entered.

It was even more grim and disgusting than usual. A group of dwarfs was gathered at a booth, laughing and hollering jokes at each other. There was a couple in the corner engaging in some hanky-panky (that was the technical word for it, Lucretia was pretty sure). The unoccupied booths were still dirty from the last patrons. The barkeep raised a hand to greet her, still clutching a dirty dish rag.

"Here for a drink?" he called.

"Not at the moment, I'm afraid," Lucretia said. "I'm here for the, uhm. The open mic?"

"Just missed it," the barkeep said, lowering his rag. "Though, we've got another in two weeks' time, if you've got somethin' you're looking to perform-"

"Oh, I'm not- I wasn't planning on performing," Lucretia said. "Just listening. But if no one showed up-"

The door snapped open again. Lucretia thought it was just the wind for a second, until she turned and saw a young-ish half-elf in the doorway. He was much too dressed up for the occasion, with a fancy shirt and a poofy hat with a feather in it. He was dripping as if he had fallen into a lake on the way over. In one hand was a violin case. In the other, damp sheet music.

He seemed to realize that everyone was staring at him and shuffled a few feet further inside.

"Uhh," he said. He cleared his throat. "Did I, uhm, did I miss it?"

"I said to be here at six, didn't I?" the barkeep said, sounding faintly annoyed. "Can you tell time, Johann?"

"Uh, yeah," he said. "I just, uhm, got… sidetracked."

"You look like you fell in the ocean," the barkeep said.

"You're not- you're not super far off-"

"It doesn't matter where you were," the barkeep said. "It's nine now, anyhow. No more open mic."

"It's not like we're missin' much!" one of the dwarfs' hollered. Johann winced, and the barkeeper ignored the comment completely.

"But I wrote a good one this time," Johann said, holding up the soggy sheet music. Lucretia could see him blush in the dim light. "I- I can do it without the sheet music. I have it memorized."

"Two weeks," the barkeep said like they had had this conversation several times before. "Be on time. You want a cuppa?"

Johann looked torn for a second, but ultimately sludged up to the bar. He deposited his violin case on the counter and his soggy sheet music fell on top of it with a splat.

"Actually," Lucretia said, "I would like a drink."

"Atta girl," the barkeep said. Lucretia grimaced but went to sit anyway. She took the stool next to Johann, who was slumped over the bar. "What'd'you want?"

"Cider," Johann said, with the emotion of a depressed seal.

"I'll take a cider, as well," Lucretia said. Johann glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. The barkeep nodded and set the rag over his shoulder, disappearing into the back room. The gaggle of dwarves chattered on across the room. Lucretia tapped her fingers against the bar. Eventually, she built up the confidence to say, "so you play the violin?"

"I'm not interested in a hookup, lady," Johann said.

"Oh, fuck no," Lucretia said. "Sorry- no. You're- gods, no."

"Uhm," Johann said. Okay, okay, okay, back on track Lucretia.

"I'm just- I'm trying to find a bard for an… organization I'm forming," Lucretia said, a little bit quieter. Secretive. Cool. Collected. Join my secret shitty moon organization, please? "I figured an open mic would be a good place to start, but I was a little too late, it seems. If you still wanted to perform, I wouldn't mind seeing what you can do."

"…you're choosing all the wrong words for convincing me this isn't a hookup," Johann said, squinting at her.

"It's not," Lucretia said shortly. "That- again, sorry, no thanks. Can I- how would you like to help save the world? Is that a better opener?"

"Cheesy, but a little better," Johann said. He sit up a little and his hat dripped water onto the bar. "Save the world how, though? I'm not gonna be joining some- some Fantasy Avengers shit, lady, I got stuff to do. You see these arms?" He held out his arm, which was dripping wet and skinny as a starved kitten. "I'm not exactly Iron Man over here, you can't expect me to be some kind of musical tank."

"Not at all," Lucretia said. She vaguely wondered if this is how Davenport felt, hiring her. No, that train of thought wasn't productive at all. She needed more gravitas. That would fix all her problems. "All I need you to do is write."

[vaspider]

I'm not sure if you've had to deal with the discourse over whether mental health issues qualify as disabilities lately but I just realized i have a recent anecdote pertinent to the discussion.

I'm a truck mechanic. I work on the vehicles sometimes called big rigs, eighteen-wheelers, semis, and probably many other names. Vehicles designed to haul freight on highways. I think you and most of your followers get the idea.

Several years ago, ugly things happened to people i considered friends. I feel a level of responsibility for what happened but people I've told the story to insist it wasn't my fault. People who were there tell me the same thing. I still can't shake the feeling but my objective level of blame is irrelevant.

About a month and a half ago, something i won't be elaborating on very vividly reminded me of what happened. That reminder sent me on a spiral. I literally could not stop thinking about what happened. Literally nothing else was on my mind. I had to go into work for a swing shift (4pm-midnight) that day. I had to do an oil change on a truck. I forgot to reinstall the drain plug because i was distracted by thoughts on ugly things from my past, so when I tried to pour oil into the engine, the oil just spilled straight onto the ground. I didn't notice what I'd done until I'd wasted nine gallons of oil that way. I corrected my mistake, concluded the service, and started my next job, another oil change.

I still couldn't think about ANYTHING besides events I can't change and a burning desire to make things right. I did most of the oil change service then had the customer start the engine of his truck... Before i added any oil. The driver saw a "low oil pressure" warning on his dashboard and stopped the engine before it was too late but had he been less attentive, his engine would've been totaled, costing my company $50k USD or possibly even more. The only reasons i didn't lose my job are because my boss likes me and defended me to the corporate safety people, and because i have no other similar mistakes on record.

I've since learned that this is consistent with Real Event Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, a subset of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder wherein the afflicted is hyperfixated on correcting past mistakes. Obsession with one's quality as a person, with one's morality, is the defining symptom. I haven't been diagnosed yet but I recently started therapy; my therapist might be able to provide such a diagnosis and help me deal.

The reason I'm telling you this is because it provides you with another data point in that argument i mentioned at the beginning of this ask. Mental illness nearly destroyed a truck and interfered with time-sensitive logistics. It nearly cost both a driver and his company significant amounts of money and lost time. Mental illness nearly cost me my career. If mental illness can take an otherwise-competent mechanic and turn them into a confused and distracted mess incapable of the simplest job a mechanic can do, i think it qualifies as a disability as much as, say, cerebral palsy or Parkinson's, or any other disabling medical condition.

(I'm probably gonna get hate mail and mockery (not from you, from the peanut gallery) for telling you about this major fuck-up but whatever. Maybe this anecdote will change some minds that need changing.)

Yeah, sounds about right. 💗

[swaglet]

One of the things that keeps me deep in ed is the fact that i hate having a "feminine body" I HATEEEEE having curves liek fucking hate it.

And the problem is no amount of weight loss will change the structure of my body so unfortunately I have to try to keep myself at a low weight to appear as if I have less curves.

Idk if you watched euphoria but rue (character played by zendaya) has my dream body she's so tall, skinny, "flat" like she looks "boyish" (i swear im not a creep 😭) and I so wanna look like that every time I wear something and see my curves pop out I wanna take a seesaw and just fucking remove them.

Whenever I discuss this w my friends they either tell me I'm humble bragging or they try to tell me that I'm non binary or some bullshit.

Like I jsut wanna have a slender body. Curves to me jsut make me look trashy and too "sexed up" I wanna look like a stick with no shape ffs

under a cut cos its kinda triggering material obvs and im yapping

oh nonnie this is exactly what kept me sick for so long too i'm so sorry to hear this is what you're going through as well :'( my mind always felt at ease when people told me i looked more like a little boy than a grown woman for reasons i'm sure we all have experienced at one time or another (COUGH misogyny and harassment and sexualization and objectification and and and)

i'm actually dealing with the fallout of it rn and it still messes with me mentally... 6 months ago i started birth control to stop my periods entirely to manage my pmdd and the excessive amount of blood i was losing during every period, and while my weight itself hasn't drastically changed at all (it stays within 5 pounds maintenance thanks to the lifting and protein usually i think), any of the body fat i DID has redistributed to make me even curvier than i was before. my boobs and ass are prominent parts of my figure now like they got HUGE compared to how they used to be (FLAT) and i have a small amount of new stretch marks on the inside of my thighs which means they must have gotten meatier and that checks out because a lot of my pantlegs and shorts feel tighter. literally because of that i almost relapsed so many times in the past 6 months but ive had the mental fortitude to just ignore the urge

what has helped me a lot is that, as i have gotten close to the people in my life that are related to my accomplishments that i am proud of (a lot of it having to do with college and my local music scene) and have become comfortable with opening up to them about feeling the way i do, almost all the women in my life have shared that they relate at least a little bit, but that my appearance and certainly not my weight or amount of curves i have don't bear any weight (pun intended) on determining how much they respect me, how talented they think i am, how good they think i am at my job/the things i do, how willing they are to work with me, and stuff like that. many of them have also offered me the advice that we only get one body, and there's only so much you can do to alter the natural shape of your body, and then within those limits there's only so much you can do that's healthy and won't disable you or damage your organs for the rest of your life, and it's unfortunate that men have made our bodies out to be this sexed object but we do really only have one shot at life and ultimately i think it's pointless trying to meticulously control how everyone around us perceives us. to be honest i have felt a lot better about it since i have been making less and less men as friends and making more women friends.

i want to say that curves, or any body shape, aren't trashy or too sexed up, they're just neutral forms that your body takes. you have little to no control over how your genetics and environment shape your bones and distribute your fat patterns aside from exercising in a way that keeps your body working and eating a nutritious diet to fuel you, so the shape of your body literally cannot have like. moral implications like trashy or slutty or sexed up or anything. i repeat that to myself when i look in the mirror every morning. my body is completely neutral no matter how it looks; my body is not the vessel that i, a formless brain, pilot around in the real world; my body is not a physical representation of me.. my body is just part of me, i am my body, my body is me, and anything my body looks like is how i look and that's how life is. i don't have to like how i look, i am allowed to be uncomfortable with it, but nothing is wrong with my body unless something physiologically about me is unwell (ex. joint pain, something is swollen or red, a medical issue basically) or is making me sick or unable to function. if it's something i can't control and can't change drastically without surgery or severely under- or overeating, like my boob size, butt size, thigh gap size, the shape of how my bones fit together and how my muscles and fat lays on top of the bones, then i just do the stupid therapy thing where instead of thinking negative thoughts i think a different thought and don't let myself ruminate on the negative ones i'm fixated on. for example, "my strong healthy non-starved body lets me play my trumpet very loudly and march strongly with force; underneath my gigantic ribcage is a gigantic set of lungs" or "my strong healthy non-starved body lets me go on bug hunts often without getting as tired and weak and needing to stop because now it's full of food that fuels me all day long and i eat like a cavewoman who was built to endurance hunt and gather trinkets all day" and one that i'm sure not many can relate to is "my healthy body lets me sweat now so i don't overheat and although sweating may be unpleasant and very uncomfortable it lets me know i'm alive and that my body is working correctly" and then i try my best to move on with my day

another thing i do is i pay A LOT of attention to the women around me who i look up to and respect; what do they look like? do i ever notice their weight or their curves and feel negatively towards them and have diminished respect towards them or feel disdain towards them? or do i feel a kinship with them if i do ever happen to notice, like "oh she is like me in that regard"? there has never been an instance where i have felt negatively about a woman in my life or lost any respect for her because of her shape, curves or no curves. i'm much more concerned about other things tbh, especially as i get older. idk how old you are nonnie, but in my experience it's very easy to be "boyish" anorexic when you're in your teens and like at the oldest 19 years old... even without synthetic female hormones (birth control) being added to my body, and even with a hormonal imbalance, at about 21 i started rly "growing up" and that's when i got hips and a little bit bigger boobs (still A cups nonetheless) and put on a bit of a belly pooch even when i was still way too underweight. those are just parts of a woman that exist on our bodies naturally and there isn't any judgement to be ascribed to them. every professor, every janitor, every coach, every grown 21+ student walking around my campus (and town!) looks like that regardless of what shape or size we come in. naturally underweight, naturally overweight, neither, curvy, blocky, straight as a board/fridge, regardless of what shape that's just how women are shaped i think. i wouldn't ever judge another woman for looking the way i look, i wouldn't judge another woman for her shape Ever, regardless of what i think her circumstances are, so by that logic i ought to apply that to myself.

another thing that brings me comfort, and you may not believe me with this one but im serious; nobody notices all the things you notice about yourself anywhere NEAR as much as you do. ppl who have known me for 4 years think im 120 pounds (i am 30 pounds heavier than that and they are always in disbelief when i tell them that) and always have no idea i have a small potbelly until i lift my shirt and show them. it's like one of my biggest insecurities in the world and literally no one knows or cares which is insane to me. if i ever get sad about it i tell myself that's where i keep my ovarian cyst at + all my air for when i sing/play instruments and it will go away with time as i get more gains and start eating right again

and nonny!!!!! "slender/stick with no shape" is still just as much of a shape as "feminine/curvy" ! male is not the default no matter how much society wants u to believe that i promise......... there is nothing wrong with the way women's bodies are this is how we have existed naturally for thousands of years since we first got here. our bodies are just as neutral as men's bodies are. it took me a long long time to feel this way about myself and about my body and about the human body in general and recovery is never linear, my outlook changes every day and i have good days and bad days and some days i absolutely just will not go outside because i don't want anyone to look at me. but those have been far and few between lately

i love u very much anon. food definitely tastes better than how skinny feels. living life freely feels better than looking perfectly skinny in an aesthetic outfit. aesthetic outfits are for 1 day. aesthetic outfits and a skinny slender form will be in pictures and they will only last in the pictures. i don't want to scare you but you will either die like that (very slowly) or you will get very unwell and realize you have to choose recovery and you will have to gain it all back slowly and you will have to choose yourself everyday. idk. i put myself through so much agony that i didn't have to go through and looking back on those pictures im thinking in my head. what was all that for? i felt better then but it's so scary to me now. i looked so sick it makes me so sad for little me. i wish she could have lived a life where she wasn't preoccupied with being perceived as a sex object and could have lived free like i do now. BUT WE THRIVE. I BELIEVE IN YOU NONNIE I LOVE YOU VERY MUCH