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thecandywrites · 1 year ago

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Monster March 2023- Day 30 Slimeperson/ Symbiote Part 3

Diamond Dust

Thank you @borealwrites for your patience as I try to chug along with Monster March...three months after it's over, and that's after I have had since January to work on it.

Part 3

Diamond Dust

But unfortunately, he didn’t get to rest for long before the people he consumed were soon missed and the police were called to investigate the missing people. And the police soon knocked on Allison’s door and woke her up practically in the predawn hours.

“What the hell?” Allison groaned.

“I got this.” Astral said as Allison watched as the galaxy slime moved from her back to Corey’s chest and Corey, now looking much more like Corey, except his eyes got up, got dressed and walked to the door while Allison slipped out of bed and put on a new nightgown and checked on her still sleeping children to make sure they hadn’t been woken up or disturbed.

“Sorry for disturbing you sir, but we’re responding to multiple missing person’s reports. Have you heard or seen anything suspicious?” The cop asked as Allison crept closer to the door, unseen by the cops at the door.

“Actually yeah, I saw the group of college kids in one of the rooms farther down the hall, I don’t know which one for sure yesterday, but it sounded like they must have had a party or had at least several guests and had a really loud party last night, it kept me and my family up most of the night, but after I think 2 or 3 in the morning, me and several others all threatened to call you if they kept at it and they said they would take their party elsewhere. But by that point, my wife and the kids were already asleep. What do you remember last night Allie?” He asked once he turned his attention to Allison and moved to show her on the other side of the door.

‘Please agree with me and add a plausible detail.’ Astral pleaded with Allison.

“Yes, God awful racket, our kids practically had to pile in with us in our bedroom as we had to put ear plugs in their little ears so they could sleep.” Allison added as convincingly as she could.

“Could you describe the people that you saw inside?” The officer asked Astral.

“Yes, there was…” He began to describe who he had consumed and how some of the others insisted they were going to go elsewhere for accommodations as well as add in a few details about drinking and drug use, all while he snuck a piece of himself into the room to change the items in the other rooms to collaborate with his story before the police could go into the rooms and investigate themselves since they were only going to door to door and had not gotten access to the other rooms yet as he made sure to disable any security feeds when he couldn’t alter them when they would look at any footage caught on camera.

“Wow, that’s quite the memory.” The cop praised as he wrote down every detail out of Astral’s mouth as Allison vaguely got a sense that such a thing may have happened, but she was sleeping too deeply to notice or wake up.

“Can I get your phone number if you remember anything else?” The officer asked before Astral gave him the number to Corey’s phone.

“Thank you, I wish every person was as helpful as you’ve been.” The cop praised- before they left.

“Thanks, good luck finding them.” Allison offered before she helped close the door.

“What really happened? Because I don’t remember any of that. I remember seeing that group earlier in the week when we were checking in and they had been playing loud music throughout the week, but that’s all, they’ve always come back to the room about this time, they party elsewhere because partying like that is forbidden in this complex, that’s why Corey and I brought the kids to this particular condo complex. What really happened and why did you have me lie to the cops?” Allie whispered worriedly as she brought him into the closest bathroom.

“Because telling the cops that you were having sex with an alien from outer space and doing so- so loudly and so intensely that you had no clue what was happening outside of our bedroom is a lot less believable than the little white lie we just told. But yes, they did make an awful racket last night after we initially fell asleep, and if it hadn’t been for me keeping you and the kids peacefully asleep, you would have been disturbed like everyone else was.” Astral explained.

“Oh, well, ok, true. So everything else you told them was the truth?” She asked.

“Yes.” Astral lied.

“Ok. But why do I get the sense I wore you out so much, you got really…like really hungry? But you’re full now. Did you…? Did you eat anyone last night?” She asked.

“Ok, yes, I ate several rapists and four drug dealers, three thieves from drug addiction and a few murderers and others who had pedophilia leanings. If I do eat other people, I have very specific tastes and I was only eating them, 1- I was starving, 2, I was trying to keep you and the kids safe from them if they would ever pose a potential threat to you or the kids, that’s all.” Astral told her in a half truth.

“Oh, well in that case, eat away, I can’t have by best symbiote getting too hungry from wearing him out too much.” Allison urged him as she held his handsome face between her hands and kissed him sweetly and affectionately.

“Wait, what? You’re…you’re ok with me…eating others?” He asked her in surprise.

“Yes, if they’re bad people who hurt others or would hurt others, especially me or the kids, by all means. I mean, I’m guessing it takes a lot of energy to change me and then change Corey’s body to make his dissimilar enough that I don’t have a subconscious reaction to his body, and then, well, last night was epic in every sense. And I’m sure things like that credit card you gave me or this necklace and earrings and stuff wasn’t cheap for you to make yourself. As long as you can do so painlessly and do so cleanly in such a way that it would never be traced back to you or to Cory’s body or me and the kids. I’m cool with it. You don’t need to hide eating from me, just like I don’t hide eating from you. You’re an alien, trying to survive in a deathworld and I would think that the easiest way for you to do so is consume other beings. And especially if you’re being picky and choosy about it and if you’re going to eat people, eat the worst ones first. Now, granted, long term, I don’t know how much you eat or how often you need to eat to sustain yourself in Corey’s body because as much as he insisted his body was a temple, he’s treated it like it was an amusement ride. And residing in this vessel can’t be easy for you. It’s ok. If I was ok with you killing off Corey for being a piece of shit of a human being, of course I’m cool with you eating other pieces of shit of human beings.” Allison reasoned.

“You have never been more beautiful to me than you are right now.” Astral insisted as he immediately started making out with her and the fucked her right on that bathroom sink before putting her into the shower and fucked her more and harder, until she felt falling asleep for a few more glorious hours, until it was a good hour past breakfast and the kids woke them up from wanting to wake up on their own.

Astral offered he would take them out to breakfast so that they wouldn’t have to cook before they left and realized the cops were now in the other room still, going over the “crime scene” with a fine toothed comb.

“Do you want to stay somewhere else? We could always just go out to breakfast and then come back and get packed up and move to another place to finish out the vacation? Or would that be too suspicious?” Allison asked Astral as they all gave the police tape a curious look as it covered the room the college punks were in.

“Let me ask and make sure it won’t be, I’ll meet you at the SUV.” He said as he pressed his keys into her hand and went back up to the police and asked, for his kid’s safety if it was going to be ok if he and his family changed their reservations of the condo to another but would keep the officer in touch just in case he wanted to come by and ask them more questions. Which of course the officers agreed to since Corey’s body looked like the last person capable of doing much more than getting a parking ticket or maybe a speeding ticket, but not much else.

“Wow, so much glitter, they must have had a party with some hookers, lets see if we can get any DNA.” One of them noted which stopped Astral in his tracks as he had tried to walk away.

“Glitter?” He repeated and turned and looked back into the room and noticed, that for the first time, he was leaving a trail. Oh the ancients! And it went everywhere his slime form went as he realized his way of internalizing his excess carbon into diamonds, while the most practical because he could make a single perfect cut and polished diamond every 20lbs of excess human flesh when his form wasn’t extracting other precious minerals from the body itself. And hell, every diamond he made for himself was like his own version of storing excess fat, future fuel to be used however he needed it to be used for anything and everything. That’s why he looked like a diamond glittering sparkly slime and not pure goo in his natural state. Thankfully he was able to collect the other diamond dust by just quickly walking by and drawing it in. But he would have to watch to make sure he didn’t leave any more from now on.

“Astral? What’s wrong? I feel panic, why are you panicking?” Allison asked once he met back up with her outside the SUV and Astral saw all the diamond dust glitter he had left all over her from having sex both last night and early this morning.

“Um, I uh, I apparently leave a trail. I just got done cleaning up the one I accidentally made last night. But uh, humans wear glitter in their makeup and other cosmetics right?” He asked as he gestured to her chest before she looked down and really noticed the super fine, subtle shimmer her skin had like she had put on body glow shimmer lotion.although her skin did feel softer than it ever had before because having him on her was like a full body scrub.

“Oh, yeah, uh, depending on how big the particulate is, usually the cheaper the glitter, the bigger the pieces. Oh, your diamonds!” Allison gasped as her hands touched the necklace around her neck.

“You didn’t leave diamonds like this around did you? Because if you did, that’s a problem, actual diamonds are not something humans leave behind.” Allison asked.

“No, it just…I saw how I apprently left a trail of diamond dust and they said it was something a hooker usually does?” Astral repeated.

“Oh! Yeah, they have been known to do that. Yeah. So are diamonds like, poop for you?” Allison asked.

“No, diamonds are to me what excess body fat is for a human being. They’re just…like batteries. Stored power and energy in case I need it in the future.” He said.

“Ooh! Ok, well then why would you leave things like that behind? Or is it more of a humans leaving skin and hair behind everywhere they go?” Allison asked.

“Yeah, kind of. I’ll just….I’ll just keep a closer eye on it and the only one I’ll leave any markings that I’ve been on you is by you weraing my diamonds and any other “glitter” I may leave behind when your body touches this one. And I’ll just focus on growing and combining all the diamonds. Surely you wouldn’t mind more diamond jewelry right?” Astral asked.

“Nope, not at all. Well, as long as you can keep it tasteful, I don’t want to be so encrusted with diamonds, I look like a trashy music video vixin.” Allison suggested.

“Ok, cool, well in that case, here, wear this and this.” Astral said before he put delicate but still impressive diamond tennis bracelets on her wrists after using whole diamonds in her before concentrating the shards and finer particulate to be like little seeds for future diamond growth.

“I’ll need to feed again to get you a proper wedding ring, as long as you’re ok with wearing them, knowing where they come from.” He asked.

“I don’t know how long you’ve been on Earth, but there is a reason why natural diamonds are called “blood diamonds” because it takes a lot of human life to dig the stupid things out of the earth and Corey always insisted that lab grown ones were trashy. And I always thought he was trashy for thinking that way. So honestly, I’d love to see the diamond you’d make out of Corey and his more horrible extended family members.” Allison urged with a giddy grin.

“Damn it you can not get any more perfect.” Astral practically laughed as he kissed her again and held her close and tight and thanking the Primordials themselves for making his alleviate with the perfect moral compass for him and their union and symbiosis.

“Breakfast, then packing and moving to another place then more sex, if you're up for it.” Astral insisted when he heard the kids start to call out to them that they were hungry before he and Allison got into the SUV.

But his comment only made Allison laugh even harder and louder than he did.

“Sex with you? Always gonna want that. It’s out of this world amazing.” She licentiously teased with a wink and a kiss and laughed even harder when his vessel immediately got an erection.

“Feed us people food, and then we can feed ourselves the other food later. But these kids are about to knaw their arms off.” Allison urged him before he drove them to a close but still very good breakfast joint, at least, according to the internet and the reviews. And his vessel was hungry for human food as he gorged as much as he needed to- to satisfy this vessel’s need for food for now.

Then after that, it was a hasty retreat back to the condo to get packed up to leave to go to a new place as Astral had to split himself off to get everything and get it all cleaned up before he got them repacked in the SUV and off to the new vacation home he had bought last night.

“Holy cow, wow. Babe you did good, this place is amazing.” Allison praised once he drove her to one of the ocean front mansions along the coast.

“Now be careful guys, this place is like that last place, we are just staying here for a few days ok?” Allison urged her children as they came into the place and they were looking at it with awed wonder for how luxurious it was.

“Actually…” Astral began with a wince.

“How about you guys go pick out a bedroom ok? Daddy and I need to talk.” Allison urged her kids before she took his hand and walked out of the house and back to the SUV to get the rest of their things.

“Astral, please tell me you didn’t kill the people that owned this house, just because I mentally said ‘I would love to live there’.” Allison begged him.

“No, this house was actually put up on the market weeks ago, it’s a summer home for an older couple from the west coast who paid millions of dollars for this place and only came and stayed here twice before they hired someone else to take care of it and use it as an Airbnb for extra income from other millionairs. They’re fine,when we corresponded, I said that we had stayed here as guests last year, loved it so much and insisted that we needed to move in and make this our vacation home and paid a few million above asking price for the ability to move in immediately. So this is very much our house. As of last night. It was going to be a surprise tonight after dinner, but now is good of time as any I guess.” Astral reassured her.

“Oh thank God. Thank you so much Astral. In that case, yes I love it and it’s even more awesome up close as it was from a distance. Very well done.” Allison exclaimed in relief and praised brightly.

“Ok, in that case, we need to go grocery shopping again huh? Because we totally trashed our last set of groceries trying to get out of the last place.” She urged him.

“Do you want to prolong the vacation and stay down here longer? Or did you want to go back when Corey and yourself had previously planned?” Astral asked.

“Oh, that’s up to you. We were only down here for bike week because Corey wanted to get into motorcycles. As if he needed another way to pick up sluts. He was complaining how “restrictive” being married and having a family was and how that was…” Allison began to rant.

“Cramping his lack of style, yeah, I got it. Gosh I can’t wait to turn this turd into the best diamond possible for you.” He finished for her.

“Yeah, we have little ones Astral. My mom was a nurse for 30 years, she always called bikers walking organ donors. And as much as I understand the idealization, I don’t want to lose you to something like that.” Allison pleaded.

“Absolutely. I completely understand. If we ever decide to get a motorcycle, it will be a purchase we both agree on and we will do so as safely as possible. But yes, I agree, our priorities are our family and especially the kids, nothing else matters.” Astral readily agreed.

“Thank you.” Allison cooed as she grabbed his face and kissed him again as the kiss morphed from one of sweetness back to burning desire and desperation again.

“Ok, get unpacked, unpacked.” Allison tried to remind them after making out again in the driveway for a few moments as she tried not to give into the urge to just fuck him right there in the driveway. Surely this place would have an amazing bed for her to do such things on.

“Your GPS in the kids will keep them occupied and safe for a bit right?” She asked breathlessly once she managed to break their kiss to catch her breath.

“Yeah, got it.” He readily agreed as he practically picked her up and practically slicked her all the way to the master bedroom, leaving a trail of diamond dust in his wake as he did so and used his lodestars in the kids to direct them to the kids rooms where a plethora of toys were waiting for them to play with.

All while he and Allie “christened” this new vacation house properly.

“I’m never going to get tired of this, sex with you is better than any drug on Earth.” Allison praised as she continued to bask in the afterglow, smiling appreciatively at the delicate and super fine diamond sparkle on her skin, knowing it was purely Astral, leaving his “mark” on her, the same way a hickey would. But in a much prettier way and one that she found she rather loved because of what it meant and represented as she noticed that with every round of sex, it somehow, got almost insanely good. Like, she had no idea how sex with Astral could get better or possibly improve, but somehow, Astral made that happen. Every orgasm the best one of her life, every part of her, drenched in euphoria and sweet relief and feeling better than she did before and her pleasure so intense she almost felt like it was on the verge of being too much of a good thing could possibly go bad, but she didn’t want to ever stop or slow down the frequency either.

Once they were finally sated and they got redressed, Astral had to take his form’s hand to reach out and pick it up again, damning his one track mind with having the best sex in his life with his alleviator and missing the point of not leaving a trail behind again because he could not afford to get sloppy. Not with his alleviator and not with his family.

They went grocery shopping after they got lunch and instead of going out to dinner, were able to make dinner for themselves at their new vacation home, that was fully furnished and now fully stocked. It was the best family meal they had ever had. Because they all worked together to make it and enjoy it and they got to talk about when and how to dispose of Corey and how much longer they were going to be on vacation for and once it was decided, they did just that while Astral, using Corey’s form called everyone who had ever made Allison’s life difficult together, so that he could deal with them in one, beautifully orchestrated stroke of genius.

#Monster March #Monster March 2023 #Monster March 2023 Day 30- Slimeperson/Symbiote #Monster March Day 30 Part 3

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itsladykit · 2 years ago

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I posted 2,143 times in 2022

That's 1,349 more posts than 2021!

119 posts created (6%)

2,024 posts reblogged (94%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@deaderrose

@musicalhell

@bishonenrockmysocks

@thebibliosphere

@chroniclethologica

I tagged 2,112 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#sandman - 86 posts

#my work - 73 posts

#the sandman - 73 posts

#writing - 62 posts

#ofmd - 57 posts

#our flag means death - 56 posts

#not my work - 50 posts

#awesome art - 47 posts

#undertale - 44 posts

#boost - 43 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#but also…sometimes it’s nice to find that sweetspot in boomer humor that allows for people to decide to just circumvent the complication of

My Top Posts in 2022:

Sometimes, a mutual will surprise you. Unpleasantly.

And you just gotta unfollow and write a vague vent post about it.

25 notes - Posted February 24, 2022

You know what?

I don’t think Tumblr should give writing advice like they’re offering absolutes. Some things work sometimes, but sometimes they won’t.

It reminds me of all advice I grew up with about creating characters without making them “Mary Sues”. You know what you get when you follow that advice to the letter? Boring ass characters.

Just write. Write your shit. Don’t worry about using “said” too much, or using too many adjectives. Don’t even worry about plot holes or writing something believable. Just. Fucking. Write.

Then, when you’re finished, tuck the thing away and bring it out once you’ve forgotten most of it. Now you can see it through a reader’s eyes and notice that the adjectives are distracting or you forgot to resolve a plotline or the romance is forced. Half the job of writing is editing, but they’re two different hats. Put them on one at a time and stop trying to make your first draft perfect.

(Obviously this format doesn’t work as well when writing fanfic or episodic pieces. I still think getting the bones down first is a good place to start. Fill in the flesh and tendons when you give it another look. Be patient with yourself and stop trying to mold yourself to some rando’s rules.)

28 notes - Posted August 30, 2022

You got any thoughts, headcanons, or whatever about Imp you haven't had a chance to share before? And/or about Hordak and Entrapdak as well.

(Also they changed the ask window, it looks like the text post editor now and it's weird. Which has nothing to do with anything, I was just surprised by it.)

^_^ I’ll have to check it out in browser, now that I have a functional computer again.

Hmmm….

I don’t think my Imp headcanons are outside the common interpretation. Most of it cribbed from a @cruciferousjex fic, which I highly recommend. (Link HERE.)

I think the most significant thing about Imp is that he very much symbolizes Hordak’s commitment to being different from Prime, even before he makes the conscious decision to split from him. He doesn’t discard Imp because of his disabilities; he accommodates them. I very much headcanon that Imp is incapable of speech, but—in addition to sign language because I fucking love sign language—Hordak created the voice modulator that allows Imp to “speak”. He accommodated Imp’s disabilities in a way Prime never would have accommodated him.

I suppose my most unique headcanon about Imp is that he prefers the modulator despite its limitations. He knows sign language, but he just enjoys using others’ voices to speak.

39 notes - Posted April 18, 2022

Alright, I’m resisting the urge to write for What We Do In The Shadows, so….

(Beware spoilers for season 3 finale)

I know everyone is completely upset that we were robbed of the happy Nandermo road trip we all wanted, but please imagine—

A tense reunion after some time has passed. (Let’s call it a year.) Perhaps after a dust-up of some sort. (I’d be lying if I wasn’t visualizing Nandor being given the chance to showcase his own warrior prowess. Him and Guillermo back to back, fighting baddies? Please.)

Anyway—Guillermo expects to settle back into his role as familiar bodyguard, but he quickly realizes that…Nandor doesn’t need his help with all the little (and big) things Guillermo used to do. Nandor’s had a year on his own—perhaps a hard year on his own—and he’s recovered his independence.

At first, Guillermo’s happy about this. Less work, right? But then he really starts to realize…Nandor doesn’t need him. And that is crushing, because no matter what speeches he makes about “found family”, in his heart of hearts, he fears the vampires kept him around because they needed him, not because they’re fond of him.

As he’s starting to spiral, though, Nandor asks to speak to him. And he doesn’t ask him as he would an underling. He doesn’t demand or whine. It’s a request, and not one Guillermo knows how to deny.

They talk. It’s awkward at first. Stilted small talk between people that are re-learning each other. Guillermo loses patience first, and asks what Nandor wants to talk to him about. He’s not sure what he’s expecting, but it’s not what he gets—an offer to turn him. Here and now, no trip to the Tigris needed. Because Guillermo has earned it. It’s offered formally, stiffly, and without feeling.

Guillermo breaks. It’s everything he ever wanted but in the worst way possible. He shouts his frustration and his anger and every emotion he’s repressed for more than a decade.

But he’s not the only one. Nandor breaks too. And is finally, finally willing to admit what he feels for Guillermo and how terrified he was that Guillermo would leave him when he was turned. But he’s had a year away, and now he knows that he can bear the pain when Guillermo leaves again, even though it will break his heart. And Guillermo has earned this, and Nandor…Nandor is strong enough now to let him go.

When they settle, they realize that they’re both idiots that they both have strong feelings for each other. And now…they can enter into a relationship as equals, both wanting the other more than they need the other.

57 notes - Posted January 11, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

While I very much don’t mind the interpretation that Hob and Morpheus have romantic feelings for each other…there’s a big part of me that really wishes there was more appreciation for the developing friendship. I mean. Listen—

Dream starts this whole thing like a scientist observing a weird little bug. He’s disdainful of humanity—at this stage, he has more in common with Desire than Death—and puts Hob in a position he fully expects Hob to regret. This isn’t a gift. Not from Dream’s perspective.

It’s a classic story, really; deity gives human exactly what he wants, only for the human to realize this is more curse than gift. Dream’s just fulfilling that archetypal role, and he’s waiting to see how the story will conclude. He’s waiting to see Hob come to that realization and how he’ll react when he does.

Of course, this very classic story is turned perfectly on its head. Dream keeps waiting for the turn. He’s waiting for the story to reach its natural conclusion, the only conclusion he can see. And it never does. Further, as time passes, Dream stops seeing Hob as an object of study or an archetype in a story. He begins to see him as a person—in some ways, an extraordinary person—and eventually, as a friend.

That progression is beautiful. Again, I’m not trying to sink anyone’s ship, I just wish that slow growth from disdain to fascination to respect to real friendship wasn’t brushed over so often.

413 notes - Posted September 2, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #Stfu kit

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chaoslynx · 2 years ago

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Hi chaos 🖤 do you have advice for how to get through college while dealing with mental health struggles??

d..drop out like i did /j

(In all seriousness, I dropped out six weeks before graduation. Everyone said I'd regret it, but it's been years and I still don't. Oh well!)

I think an important part to surviving college is to take advantage of any resources the school offers you. It was really difficult for me to use the resources that were available when I first started -- it was really hard for me to ask for help or anything, really. If you need to, think of it this way: even IF everyone in power at the school is only in it for the money, they don't get that money if you drop out. Their goal is ALSO to get you through college. So you succeeding is helping both of you!

See if your school has any sort of disability accommodations available, and what those look like for students with mental health issues. If you're seeing a therapist or psychiatrist, see if you can get them to write a letter of accommodation to give to any sort of student disability center, or to your professors. Here's what my psychiatrist's letter to our disability center looked like:

This tiny letter and some back and forth with the disability center and my professors allowed me to have flexibility with attendance, deadlines, and pretty much anything else I needed in university if I just asked for it.

If you're not seeing a therapist or psychiatrist, it's definitely worth trying to if it's an option for you -- and if you're in university, it's probably more accessible than you think. A lot of schools have student counseling centers, and sometimes allow free therapy sessions a few times a semester. Take advantage of any and all resources you can get your hands on. Remember -- everyone benefits if you can get through this. Ask for help. Ask for help.

Make sure that you have a support system outside of just your therapist, too! Your friends, professors you trust, strange authors on the internet (me) can all be part of your support system. It's important to have people that you're comfortable with, and who help you feel safe. There are billions of people on this planet -- there are those who are a good fit for you, no matter how messed up or broken you might feel.

Whatever you struggle with, find workarounds for it. If you can't remember to eat regularly, set alarms or make plans to visit the dining halls with friends. Try to make sure that you're in bed eight hours before you have to wake up for your next class. Ask for help!!! Find what works best for you, and please try not to feel guilty for it. Some people wear glasses; some people use wheelchairs; some people can't make it to class every period. Accommodations are a part of life for most people, to varying degrees.

Do what you need to do, and keep your goals in mind. You're going to get through this, and you're going to create the life that you want for yourself.

Let me know if you need anything!

#answers #anon #mental health

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cybrheartheart · 1 year ago

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I was going to college for too many years, because I was only diagnosed at the time with a generalized learning disability. The place didn't have a qualified professional so that was all they could until I learned about Vocational Rehabilitation state departments. Voc Rehabs get veterans and people with disabilities back into the job market. That means paying for diagnoses, schooling, mental wellness, classes that help you to focus on what you can actually do in the here and now.

While I was working and taking classes at the same time, while being partially supported with accommodations due to my disabilities. I was working a lot to pay for my survival. A vast majority of these jobs were in food service. A lot of the places I worked also shutdown because of various business practices that ended up culminating years after my employment, and so I ended up with a lot of jobs on my resume/cv which could never be followed up with. So a lot of places really didn't have the best treatment of their employees. But a lot of them employed students, so the one thing they always offered was free or discounted food. I found the best places were sandwich shops because I could get the largest size to live off as my meal for the day.

Had a job where the owner was a good person. Treated his employees like they were golden, ensured we were given the best of the best treatment considering what the job entailed. One of the managers there decided he would foment chaos. One of my fellow coworkers on shift was an unofficial manager. He did the work of a manager but wasn't paid, he was competent and masterful in his work, but he also had no problems having fun and keeping morale up, because it was grueling work. Well, he started noticing something was up with the manager, who was cutting down the food weights because we weighed the food before we put them on the sandwiches so customers could expect consistency. Cutting down our free food, almost eliminating them, telling us we needed to clean even more than usual or we'd fail our health inspection, and generally gaslighting us into general bad morale. This coworker I mentioned was getting itchy about what was going on, started putting his nose in certain things and found out a lot of things that were sketchy and decided to quit. I felt that I didn't want to work for this horrible manager especially since this coworker was basically a safeguard/barrier against most of the horrid actions of the manager. I don't hate people, it takes a lot for me to get angry or have strong feelings of a negative kind to anyone, but I hated closing, I hated that manager, I hated that he would make me do a lot of work I was actually unable to physically do without hurting myself. My spine doesn't bend, it's been fused with hardware. Making me bend down and reach around in cabinets are torture. Literal torture and he would make me do it every night. I have never understood people who would make others do something that would hurt them. So, I started to put out feelers to the other businesses nearby, especially another business that was owned unbeknownst to me by a friend of the owner. When I came in for my interview, being an AuDHD I tend to trust everyone and tell everyone whatever is on mind without guile or censor. I told who I found out later was the owner of the new business, exactly why I was changing jobs. Apparently he contacted the owner of our shop, who in turn called me and I thought I was in trouble. But instead, he told me that I still had my job, but to keep it I'd have to tell him Everything. I told him about the bad manager, and my coworker who really should be the manager but doesn't want to take on the mantel just wanted to work. Turns out the manager had been steal whole cuts of meat (you go to the deli dept at your grocery store and see the cuts of meat they slice off of, yeah, those) and selling them. That's why he was cutting the weights. The owner changed a lot of stuff after that. He ensured we knew that we were getting free food and how much. He also laminated everything so it could not be changed by anyone but him. He also brought out the health inspections results, prior and current. Apparently, the owner was on handshake terms with the health inspector. He'd been ensuring we were up to code for a very long time and ensured that what needed to up updated was always updated. He just never told us. We had been getting A+ results on our health inspections way, way before the bad manager took over and we still had A+ inspections.

He usually didn't come into the stores before especially not that often only for health inspections but once he fired that horrible manager, he took over the guys shifts for a while and ensured that people were being treated fairly. I thrived under his supervision because he would pop in and help when we'd have a crush during lunch rush and he'd hop in where people were not able to keep up. He was one of those people who led from the front.

By the time, I graduated from University, I was actually really grudgingly sad about leaving because he treated us humanely unlike a lot of crappy jobs I'd worked for, I knew I was needed, and it was worth it to work for them by then. I was talking to people just before I left that I felt like I really didn't want to leave. But I was told I deserve that career job because I busted my butt for that degree and I was actually going to be able to apply it to the real world, and I had an excellent opportunity to get a gov't job. Which wasn't something a lot of graduated would be able to do. Then I was told to walk my butt out that door and don't come back unless I was a customer.

So this got long, and I tend to ramble at times, a stream of consciousness I guess you could say. Basically, you really don't know what people are going through when they work for you, especially in food service. But one thing I know is, the sucky pay doesn't make up for the lack of being able to survive. A person shouldn't have to rely on a sub sandwich to keep them alive while College or Uni students.

Another thing I want to mention, a vast swathe of students don't know how to cook, so living on that sandwich is all they have. The world shouldn't be like that but it is and giving employees a free f*cking sandwich really the different between starving and having a meal, and is a literal lifesaver, especially when you have no time to make food or learn to make food without an internet. Please ensure your workers are feed or a lot of the time they won't have the energy to work. I tended to either eat that thing right away or I'd save half of it for dinner. Just depended when my shift was, whether morning, afternoon, or closing.

All food service workers should 100% be entitled to free ass meals on the job. Not discounted, not half off. Free.

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sunshinexlollipops · 7 months ago

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honestly read this or don't IDC but I'm ranting about my job bc I'm over it...

so I found out yesterday that instead of leaving in another week, I have 3 days left and my final day at work is Friday. they surprised me when I asked what day was my final one, and dropped the news. altogether, grateful I am leaving that place ATP. I felt regret at first and like I "ruined" my opportunity there— I liked the insurance, the wage, the hour lunch— but the attitude to disabled employees there? wow. I have one coworker who is already aligning his exit plan to quit, and the other I had to tell the store manager about when giving my 2 week. and that's bc the department was saying this person doesn't know how to properly do their job, and they were saying he was fucking over the department. instead of being productive and saying something to this person or management, they sat on it and complained about things going wrong/mistakes being made, and only built up their frustrations. they did all this, with some even knowing this worker has an intellectual disability, btw. I myself experienced a microaggression. which is an odd word until you go through it and realize wow, okay. THAT is what they mean, bc I was helping a coworker w items they brought into my aisle that I was working to try and get done before truck came in. I go to help after finishing w my stuff, and I help get every item but the last one for the aisle. why? bc I try to lift it and realize I can't. it's too heavy and it's put me in pain. I tell my worker that I cannot get that one box of product, but I'm willing to take MULTIPLE they have in their cart to their respective aisles. instead of agreeing or being amicable, my coworker proceeds to walk up to me, place their forearm adjacent to mine and say "hm, I don't think I see a difference, do you?" essentially trying to say there shouldn't be a reason I can't lift this. I haven't spoken much on here about my health troubles but I've had to wear braces at work on top of having various medical issues, like potentially having a brain tumor (a prolactinoma specifically, iykyk). this was really mortifying on top of frustrating, and I found that management either holds my hand like a babe who is incapable of independence and trust, or they would doubt me and I'd have to explain/defend myself.

in this world, there's no such thing as just getting to say, "I'm disabled." people will demand to know why/how you are, and even if you're not comfortable sharing your medical history, you quickly discover that if you don't expose details or a brace on your ankle, that people will be hostile and take what you said like a personal offense. and to make matters worse, you have to do this...with every...single...employee.

management? oh God, good fucking luck! when calling to set myself up after my store transfer, I asked my dept manager about accommodations for disability. they immediately told me "idk you'll have to talk to the store manager about that." clearly an oversight given he looks after 2 disabled employees (and these ranges from intellectual, mental health, and physical limitations). that's before I even get in the mix! but also, bc I had a lead give me critiques...on things my disabilities affect or outright cause. like only when you're disabled will you be told your spatial awareness is a problem they want you to work on.. or even when you clearly walk w a limp, you have talked to the assistant store manager about how you have braces and struggled at your last store bc your break room was upstairs, that one of his team will complain about your speed. even when they also admit you're new and 1 week into being there, and are just learning where things are to boot. I wasn't even given a chance to adjust or settle in before I was told I needed to amp it up.

I've felt like despite trying my hardest, going in on 2-3hrs of sleep for the last month and several weeks of my life, offering up overt kindness to everyone, and going out of my way to make up for my disabilities...it wasn't good enough. and when I started having panic attacks at work and home, several times a week or even waking up into them, I was doing more physical work during my shift than some managers, and was still told it wasn't enough. after this and being treated in the way I was? AND seeing it happen to my disabled coworkers? I def wanted to leave and knew I had to.

but the company's reddit online? garbage. went to complain on there and it was an epic failure. esp my first post. I attempted w my second to give that context + give updates, and people then complained about the length and acted like it was the biggest offense, as if I hadn't been told vile things when they weren't offered all of that before. and I wasn't allowed to be frustrated w their responses as people still treated me poorly when I explained the energy I received on my last one.

while in the 1st post, people shat on me for not giving every detail (once again see: you must appease everyone and validate yourself for them when disabled) about things/myself, many came after me for saying I am continuing to pursue SSDI, as I thought I needed to put in my 2 week that morning and that it was my exit plan.

I got comments saying I was a miserable person, clearly lazy and skirting responsibilities, and that the reason I was being treated this way is that I deserved it and my coworkers hated me. it carried into my job, but also just made me feel so much shame about trying my hand at work again, and being disabled overall.

after this, I've had major knocks to my confidence. both as what I can amount to as an employee, but because right now, SSDI is what I have to pursue, and I feel guilty about it. many on my post said I tried to do a bad job to survive off unemployment (be fucking fr), or I just gave up so I could be a leech w disability.

(that being said, there were some on both posts who were supportive and got it, and shout-out to those people bc omfg, it would've been all hate otherwise.)

it's clear that so many people who hate on SSDI users don't even understand that system and how BULLSHIT it is. in this day and age, for many manage to get disability, you've had to prove yourself like you've said the earth is fucking flat to do so.

I'm lucky that I've gotten in contact w a specified lawyer for SSDI, and I've been told that I have a good chance at winning. I've been stuck in appeals since Sept w nothing from SS. altogether, going to docs for years/having records of my panic attacks seems to be the leg we are standing on, amongst other supports. I'm just waiting to hear back and to file the official paperwork.

this lawyer informed me they have a tally at the beginning of the year, one for cases they don't take, and one for the cases they do. rejections were totaled at over 80 cases. for me? I'm his 18th case. I cried over the phone bc for the first time in years, someone who actually works w this system, aside from some of my providers, has told me "yes, you need this." and I felt so validated.

but I could also only cry for how my time at this job has gone. the treatment and judgement I've faced, the hostility, discrimination, etc... I thought of those reddit comments, and knew this was the direction I needed to be in, bc that behavior was coming from people who also originate from this company. there was so much shame for their own emotions and lack of understanding, and I was tired of having to deal w my problems on top of how they felt about them.

I'm just tired. literally and in other ways, too. I'm very happy to be gone in a few days, and as I said too, I've lost the regret and guilt I had about quitting as I have. even w the perks of this job, being confronted as I was and forced to endure the situations I was put in was not it.

wildly enough, my coworkers, even the one who compared our arms, are sad/bummed I'm leaving. I've been told I've done good work, that I'm a great addition, or people are genuinely not wanting me to leave. it's just wild bc you can tell they haven't even registered how they make that place for people like me, or even acknowledging the way they personally acted toward me.

I'm ready to be done and move on w my life. but honestly, this is gonna stick w me a while. just needed to get this out here in an attempt to lessen how I feel about it and get some progress in moving on.

oof.

#personal #feel free to read or dont lmao #disabled #disability

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themomsandthecity · 9 months ago

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What the Kyte Baby Drama Reveals About Paid Leave For Adoptive Parents

Last month, the popular baby clothing brand Kyte Baby came under fire for denying a new mom's request to work remotely while her adopted son was in a neonatal intensive care unit hours from her home. Marissa Hughes, who qualified for two weeks of paid leave, was initially fired for not being able to do her job on site, per a since-deleted TikTok her sister posted - until an online uproar led the CEO, Ying Liu, to reverse her decision. Parents everywhere were incensed, and the debacle ignited a larger conversation about adequate leave and reasonable accommodations for new parents. Adoptive parents in particular related to the mom's frustration: many know all too well how easy it can be for employers to ignore the importance of adoption leave. On a national level, the Family and Medical Leave Act (FMLA) requires companies to offer 12 weeks of job-protected unpaid leave to birth parents and adoptive parents alike. But it's estimated that only 56 percent of US workers actually qualify for FMLA, according to a 2018 US Department of Labor survey (the most recent statistics available). Others work for small companies, are part-time employees, or - as was the case with Hughes - joined their company less than a year ago, all factors that can prevent them from qualifying. Paid family leave is even more rare; it was available to just 23 percent of unionized and 27 percent of non-unionized, private-sector workers in 2023, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics. The United States is the only wealthy country in the world without a national paid leave policy (the others included in this group are small island nations like Papua New Guinea and Tonga). Thirteen states and the District of Columbia mandate some form of paid leave for qualifying employees, and any company can choose to offer it as a benefit for their employees. Natalie Shaak, who last year led a team from Drexel University's Center for Hunger-Free Communities on a brief that made the case for paid family leave, points out that many of those plans don't cover quite as many weeks for adoptive parents. "The reason why is because most paid family leave is done through disability-related insurances," Shaak says. "So it's more about the physical side of it. Even the amount of time that you can take is based on, 'Oh, did you have a vaginal birth or did you have a C-section?'" Related: How Much It Costs to Adopt a Child, According to Experts Sometimes, companies simply haven't considered adoption. But while it's not explicitly written in many benefits packages, employees can request it, says adoption and family-building attorney Elizabeth Vaysman, Esq. That said, adoptive parents may encounter hurdles like being asked to show a birth certificate, which can take months to get in adoption cases, Vaysman warns. "The need for it is on steroids." The good news: a 2023 survey from the Society of Human Resources Management found that 34 percent of employers now offer some form of paid adoption leave, up six percentage points from the previous year. That's an important acknowledgment of why this time is crucial for parents to spend with their kids. Although adoptive parents aren't recovering from labor and delivery, many argue that the time off may be even more critical. "The need for it is on steroids because of that original separation that is inherent in adoption," says adoption educator Lori Holden, coauthor of "Adoption Unfiltered." No matter their age, a newly adopted child has just "had a ginormous transition in their lives," says Samuel, cohost of "My Two Dads: The Adoption Podcast." (Samuel is being identified by his first name out of concern for privacy of his son's birth family.) "Imagine if someone [turned] up at your door and said, 'OK, you're coming to live with us now and we're in charge of you.' And then they just disappeared off again and you had no idea what was going on," Samuel explains. Holden, an adoptive mom… https://www.popsugar.com/family/kyte-baby-paid-leave-controversy-49335084?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr

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wordsofapanda · 1 year ago

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I died a bit of cuteness on my date. He chose to sit next to me instead of across from me. We went to get Korean bbq and there were certain super cute things I noticed he did. He tried to take care of me in tiny ways. He setup my plate, water, and started cooking. I made a comment that it was nice to have someone cook for me because I’m so used to being that friend who cooks at kbbq. His response: “let me spoil you”. He ends up cooking dinner and then he serves me first. When I try to give him food he comments that he wants to make sure I’ve eaten first since it was my first meal all day. He just kept piling my plate. Halfway through our meal he smiles and say “you are awesome”. Which threw me off because I went makeup less and bummed it that date. I blushed and asked why he said that and he’s comments about how he doesn’t have that many people to talk about when it comes to games, anime, movies, board games, and more. He said that it’s nice to talk to someone he has a lot in common with. I honestly didn’t know how to react. I just thought it was super sweet. During the date we just kept finding random ways we connected like he said he’s happy I suggested kbbq because he didn’t eat much protein yesterday and needs a good meal. Or we figured out we both have the same car stickers: squirtle squad stickers. He admitted that he told his best friend about me and she did the whole “vetting thing” and checked out my bio. It was cheesy as hell to see how he enjoyed my company but it was also incredibly wholesome. We talked about everything. He knows I have a disability and was incredibly kind about it. He told me he looked it up so he could understand it more and I just died at how sweet I thought that was. Then he told me that if I needed any accommodations, he would make them without a doubt. When I matched with him, I thought he was bigger but he explained to me he lost a lot of weight and I thought, oh god please don’t be too skinny but he gave a good hug. I need a man with meat on his bones. I tried to offer to pay half and he wouldn’t have it. I insisted that he pinky swears it was okay and he pinky sweared me. I covered macaron ice cream sandwiches afterwards and it was worth it. I didn’t feel intimidated the entire date. It felt natural. That natural feeling kind of terrifies me because I’m learning how to be in a healthy relationship and not assume natural means friendzone or bare minimum. Either way, I had a great couple of hours and it feels nice knowing I don’t have to dress up too much to be enjoyed.

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loiswolf · 1 year ago

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Day 32 June 30 Battleford Nth to Radisson 72kms

This morning I was still undecided about what I was going to do. After wasting another $15 credit on my Aldi mobile trying the call the bus company, I sent them an email. Then I went out and asked the motel guy about using the motel phone. He took pity on me and loaned me his phone to call the motel halfway to Saskatoon to confirm a room for tonight ( in case I decided to cycle). Fortunately I received a reply from the bus company not long after returning to my room. They allowed bikes for an extra $50 ( would have paid it) but I would have to pack it in a box. Not going to happen!

It didn’t take long to pack my stuff. Ready to leave I stopped to chat to BJ , the motel worker. He was nice enough to put some oil on Shirley’s chain. Wow! Air in her tyres and oil on her chain all in one week! She should clock up 60000kms more often!

BJ also offered to take me out to dinner next time I’m in town but I’m pretty sure that won’t happen.

The knee wasn’t too bad as long as I stayed unclipped and didn’t stand on the pedals. I think it was triggered by my change of cycling shoe. The cleats are probably in a slightly different place. I’ll try putting the seat up a little.

The first 40kms were a bit slow.

This was the view.

Looks just like yesterday? Yep, it doesn’t change much.

I haven’t been able to work out where the wind is coming from but it hasn’t been behind me. I seemed to be going up a very slight incline until I reached Maymont at 43kms. Again I had done my research and found a cafe just off the highway.

This one was owned by an Indian family as are a lot of the businesses out here. If not for them and the Asians even more places would be closed down and less services available.

I had a coffee, bagel and a drumstick then got talking to the daughter, Manisha.

She has been helping her parents establish the business they purchased off an elderly Canadian couple last year. They drive to and from Saskatoon every day to open the cafe/convenience store.

When I finally left the shop it had been raining. It was a lovely change from the burning sun I’ve had most days. The wind also seemed to have changed and the road was going slightly down. Yay! A very easy 26kms all the way to Raddison and the rain was only light. Under those conditions I could have continued all the way to Saskatoon….but I didn’t.

I am staying at the Midway Motel, named for obvious reasons. It’s pretty good value and I have the nice spacious disabled room to accommodate Shirley.

I’m working on that knee again as I’ll have to do the next 65kms into Saskatoon. Hopefully the conditions will be just as good as they are now.

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jaybirdiewrites · 2 years ago

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Daniel James Fenton was sixteen when he made the decision to leave Amity forever, and, after blowing up every GIW base in existence, and shutting down the portal, there was no more need for him there anyways. He could continue school online. The moon had a wifi signal, right?

And, when, one year later, he got an early acceptance email from one Metropolis University, including a full-ride scholarship, accommodations, and the resources needed, he honestly just thought it was because of his good grades. Doing school in space would do that for you.

And then, at the age of twenty-five, he graduated from Metropolis University with dual PhDs in Engineering and chemistry. Danny was incredibly surprised to find a job offer almost immediately at Gotham Academy.

He should have known his good fortune wouldn’t last. It never did.

As a result, his students were all tied up in a row, a gun to one of their heads as the worst circus attempt he had ever seen “interrogated” him. Honestly, Wes had done a better job threatening him. At least he had the evidence to back it up.

You know what? Fuck this clown dude, whatever his name was. Fuck clowns in general. This guy absolutely radiated death, so killing him would probably make him Danny’s full time problem.

Doing anything but killing him, however, would be perfectly fine.

That marked the first, and only, Gotham Rouge who attacked Gotham Academy.

That was also the students first ever hands-on lesson on bomb disabling, combat-through-nervous-system, and how to hold off on the effects of Joker Gas in lower quantities, and that year, any student in Dr. Fenton’s Chemistry Class knew how to isolate chemicals, and create anti-venoms in the form of candies for every. Single. Rouge.

Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne also gained gray hairs, and one-hundred-and-eighty-seven different contingency plans for a Gotham Rouge that could probably destroy the universe if he wanted to.

And to think he was better at engineering?

The following year, there was a new gym teacher by the name of Dash Baxter.

_=-=-=-=-==-==-=-

You’re welcome to ignore this if you’ve never interacted with my account but;

Look. I know you guys want updates. I want to give you updates. But I am also a high school student working through some shit, and I have 4 CPTs and 6 exams. Please give me time.

Getting comments telling me to update, or anons with rude messages essentially telling me to fuck off does not help me get shit done. Quite the opposite.

I have anxiety and ADHD. Horrible combo I know, but that means that after i see that comment or anon or message or whatever, working on that fic can end up triggering me to the point of me now having regular overloads because of the stress of it all.

I am taking a break until February on Wattpad and Ao3. I am active on here still because i write shit during my free time for fun. That does not make you entitled to anything i write. Not updates, not how long it is, not who or what is in it. so please stop. You will be blocked. If the comment is bad enough I will (and have) blocked mutuals of yours. I will google your tumblr and try and trace that back to other socials. I will block you there too, and report you everywhere i can find you.

Don’t ruin something I love by sending me a step down from death threats when I don’t update for a month. I gave you a reasonable explanation and a Wattpad update on fucking CHRISTMAS.

Short DPXDC Prompts #468

Danny is a Chemistry teacher at Gotham Academy. His favorite student is Tim. He shocks the students by teaching and creating a Fear Antitoxin for the kids to learn as part of their curriculum.

#Dpxdc #Izzy Writes #Prompt fill #so #thanks to the Batpham server for doing sprints with me #You all will be getting lots of new fics #As in i have narrowed it down to maybe 16 options to work on?#But also #Please look at the A/N #I wish this was a joke #I want to do this #but i will stop if it means people stop harassing me for not updating.#I love everyone who comments #It makes me smile so much and i love to get to know little bits of you through regular comments #You know who you are #but those of you ruining this #Please stop.

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years ago

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𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || every client is different, with different needs; but this client is, in every way, exceptional.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 5k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (cnc), dom/sub relationship, ‘mistress’ title, pain kink, cockwarming, orgasm denial/control, use of a cockring, slapping, objectification/degradation, some angst and hurt/comfort, crying after sex, touchstarved!bucky

new parts posted on thursdays! join the taglist here

"And you can promise complete and total discretion?” the deep and husky voice on the other end of the line repeated, low enough that it was almost a whisper.

You laughed a little. “Of course,” you answered. Most clients were serious about privacy, but this guy was next level. He must be famous, you thought to yourself, or married. Or both.

But just as much as your clients wanted to keep you separate from their personal life, you would rather they know nothing about who you are. Of course it was always a risk, since nobody could hide their face and you had to work out of your apartment, but you did what you could to keep your job just that— a job.

You told your friends you were a consultant, because people didn’t question that. Sure, it was hard to keep up the lie sometimes when you got last-minute bookings and had to cancel plans, but it was worth it for the money these men were willing to pay.

And this new guy? He was shelling out all kinds of cash, on a long set of conditions. Including an NDA. You wouldn’t have given him up either way, but if the contract made him feel better (and made him pay more) then you were happy to sign it.

“So it’s all anonymous, then? No ID, no credit card…?” he pressed.

“I mean, if cash is easier for you—”

“It is.”

You were starting to worry that this was a major red flag, as if he didn’t want to be traceable back to you at all. It was almost a dealbreaker, until you glanced down at the legal pad you’d written his offer on and remembered that you couldn’t afford to turn him down. “Then cash is fine,” you decided, making a note to yourself to have 911 already dialed when he came by in case his aversion to ID was really about a desire to get away with something.

“When can we start?”

“Um, well the soonest I can do is tomorrow at seven” you explained.

"Great, I'll be there," he answered firmly, apparently about to hand up.

“Hey, hey, slow down!” you chuckled. “Can I at least get a name?”

“I didn’t think we needed to do names.”

“We don’t… but if you’re willing, I’d like to know something to call you.”

“James,” he answered after a tense pause. “James is fine.”

“Alright, James, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Upon opening the door, you instantly noticed three things about him: he was tall, he was big, and he was sexy.

You had sort of been hoping that his appearance wouldn’t match his voice, but it did, and it was going to make this so much harder. Maybe easier in a few ways, but overall worse. It was important that you didn’t get too emotionally invested with your clients.

His eyes were dragging over you like he was just as taken aback. Which was odd, because he must have seen your picture online before he called you.

“James,” you greeted. “Glad you made it.”

You stepped aside to let him enter, guiding him to take a seat in your living room. Before clients came by, you hid any signs of life and kept the space as neutral as possible, which was why the only furniture was the white couch he sat on, the black chair across from it, and a glass table in between.

You sat in the black chair and crossed your legs, noticing with pride the way his eyes studied your every move.

“It’s important that we have a discussion about boundaries and limits before this goes any further," you explained sternly, and he nodded slightly. "Tell me what you do and don't want."

“Uh, well, I guess I was just looking for… somebody who can administer, um, discipline… you know, someone who sets rules and enforces them. But could also be kind of, uh, sweet I guess, to. Not too sweet, just… not too mean either."

You smiled a little; he sounded right up your alley. "I can do that."

"You should know I… I have a… disability. My left arm it's, um, it's a prosthetic."

"How would you like me to accommodate that?"

"Just don't say anything about it, please. Treat it like a normal arm. And, uh, if you could ignore my scars, too…" he added awkwardly.

"Of course,” you nodded, “I would never want to make you feel insecure."

"Well, I mean, I'm not against degradation," he admitted sheepishly, making you smile a little.

"Right: that's different. Anything else you're distinctly not against?"

“I can take a lot of pain,” he explained matter-of-factly. “However much you think I can handle, double it. I wanna feel it.”

You could almost hear the words he wasn’t saying: I wanna feel something.

“Okay, we can do that. You’ve probably heard of the color system," you posited.

“I haven’t.”

"Oh." That threw you off slightly… how new was he to this scene? “Well, it’s traditionally green, yellow, red; like a stoplight. Red means stop. Yellow means proceed with caution. Green means continue.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

“Too simple for me, in fact. I have my own version: ‘red’ will make me stop what I’m doing, but only ‘black’ ends the scene entirely. And then there’s ‘blue.’ That means you want more.”

He smirked a little; a strong show of emotion compared to his stoicism so far. “I think I’ll use that one most.”

“Just don’t be afraid to use anything else, alright? I’d never be disappointed in you for safewording, or even just needing a break.”

He nodded. “Can we get to it then?”

“You’re rushing as always,” you laughed. “I’m not charging you for this part. We have plenty of time— don’t we?”

“Yes, but—” he sighed. “You look really… I walked in and, I guess I’m just really looking forward to this.”

You almost would’ve smiled at the compliment but you thankfully suppressed it. “And what is it that you’re looking forward to? What do you want me to do to you?”

His jaw tightened as he looked away from you. “Um, there’s a lot.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Ropes. Strongest you have. I can buy you stronger ones if you need them, for next time…”

He’s already thinking about next time? He’s already thinking about buying me things?

“Alright, I can do ropes: wrists and ankles? Or more than that?”

He seemed a bit confused by that question. “Is there anywhere else?”

“Torso,” you enumerated, “neck—” you stopped because you saw his reaction to that, and it made you smile a bit. “Okay, so maybe the neck is something to try. Do you like being choked?”

“I… I don’t know…” he sighed.

“Have you ever been choked before?”

“Not… sexually...”

You felt your eyebrows rise, but didn’t want to press; a story for another time, perhaps.

“We’ll have to discuss silent safewords and signals so you can tap out, but if you’d be willing to try it—”

“Yes.”

You laughed. “Eager, are we?”

He swallowed, and you wondered if you shouldn’t have let your ‘dom voice’ slip out in that moment… but he looked so good flustered like that. He adjusted himself slightly in his chair and you hoped he was already hard. And with that thought in mind, you couldn’t stop yourself from teasing him further.

“Do you like being called certain things?” you asked, voice lower as you leaned forward. “How do you feel about ‘pet’?”

He almost kept up his poker face, but his gaze faltered at the same time he moved in his chair again. “Um, ‘pet’ is okay.”

“Baby boy?”

“Not really my speed,” he shrugged.

You slipped out of your chair and stood up, approaching him slowly as the click of your heels echoed across the tile. He watched you with wide eyes and quickening breaths.

“What do you like? Tell me,” you demanded, though you kept your tone light.

“Uh,” he paused, watching your hand as it rested on his leg, “I like… I like being called a good boy.”

You grinned as you pulled your hand away, watching him tense up with disappointment. “I can do that,” you agreed, lifting his chin with a finger until he looked at you with those beautiful, desperate eyes, “if you actually are being a good boy for me.” “I will,” he promised quickly, “I’ll be so good.”

“Mmm, I bet you will,” you purred. “So willing to please…”

“Tell me how,” he sighed as your hand trailed from his chin down to his chest, slipping under the loose collar of his henley and rubbing his chest. “Tell me how to please you.”

“Well, for starters, I have a name, too: Mistress.”

He sighed like the wind had been knocked out of him, but nodded.

“And if I ask you a question, I expect you to answer ‘Yes, Mistress’ or ‘No, Mistress’. Is that clear?”

“Uh-huh,” he agreed before suddenly correcting himself, “um, yes, Mistress.”

“I’ll let you have that one,” you frowned, “but further infractions will be punished.”

“Yes, Mistress; I’m sorry, Mistress,” he moaned, melting under your touch as your hand moved down to rub his thigh through his jeans.

“Now, just for fun,” you smiled, leaning down until your lips were nearly brushing his ear, “tell me what you want.”

“Please touch me, Mistress,” he sighed.

“But I am touching you.”

“Touch my… touch my cock," he clarified, adorably embarrassed. "It’s so hard for you…”

“We’ll get to that eventually. Let’s go to the bedroom first, okay?”

However good he looked standing in your doorway half an hour ago, it was nothing compared to how he looked naked and hard and tied to your bed.

Yes, the prosthetic and the scars that attached it to his body were hard to ignore. He had failed to warn you that it was metal, so you couldn’t hide the slight shift of your face when it caught the light; you hoped he didn’t think it was a look of judgment or disgust, because you truly didn’t think it was anything upsetting. Maybe the scars were a little worrying… but they didn’t seem to bother him now, at least physically.

But truly, if anything was distracting about his body, it wasn’t the arm. It was his muscles— no wait, it had to be his cock, right? It’s tough to call: on one hand, his entire body was toned and hardened beyond the peak of human conditioning, his thick thighs making your mouth water already, his chiseled abs almost making you jealous; but on the other hand, between those lovely thighs and curving up against those perfect abs was a cock that rivalled anything you'd ever seen before, with a blue vein running up one side and a drip of precum rolling down the other.

You finally sauntered up to the bed and ran your fingers over the taught ropes, pretending to ignore him watching you impatiently. It was almost hotter knowing that he could pull out of the ropes if he really wanted to. More than most, he was choosing to submit to them and to you.

“How’s this knot feel? Too tight?” you hummed, tugging the rope just beside his wrist and watching his hand move limply with it.

“No, it’s good.”

You stepped back to the foot of the bed and stripped slowly, peeling off your black dress to reveal a matching lace set underneath. You left your heels on as you stepped out of the dress and kicked it aside.

Turning back to face him, James looked like he was all but drooling. You could see in his eyes how much he wished the ropes weren’t holding him back so he could run his hands all over your body.

But you could tell he craved being denied what he wanted, by the way his cock flexed of its own volition.

You let yourself smile as you crawled your way up the bed and over his body, like a panther stalking its prey, and boy did he look ready to be devoured.

"Are you scared?" you asked quietly. He shook his head. "Are you ready?"

He nodded. You sat up as you straddled him, positioned just right such that no part of you was really touching him, and watched with delight as he tugged against the ropes slightly to try to get closer.

"So needy," you grinned, somewhere between praising and scolding him. Your fingers ghosted over his chest and he shivered; he asked you to treat his prosthetic like a normal arm, so you dragged your nails down the metal and watched his eyes flutter shut. When you pulled your hand back and left him untouched again, he whined slightly.

“Aw, poor thing,” you pouted as you examined him, desperation emanating off of him in an invisible aura. “Your cock is all red and leaking… it must hurt, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he groaned.

“What if I touch it a little?” you offered.

“Please…”

You traced your fingers lightly up and down his length, tickling the skin and giving him the least pressure that you could. He whimpered and you chuckled mockingly. “I said I’d touch it a little, sweet boy, are you not satisfied?”

He bucked up into your touch as best he could, causing you to pull your hand away. “Baby, please—”

You cut him off with a slap to the face, as hard as you could muster.

“Mistress!” he corrected with a whine. “Mistress, please… please wrap your hand around it.”

“Around what?”

“Around… my cock. Stroke me, please…”

“All you had to do was ask,” you grinned, finally tightening your hand around him and moving slowly up and down the shaft. His head fell back with a soft moan, just from that. Your teasing had certainly helped get him this worked up, but you knew it wasn't just that… he was plenty sensitive all on his own, apparently.

It made your mouth water.

"Does this feel good, James?" you asked huskily.

"S-so good," he whimpered, "please can you… stroke it a little faster, please, Mistress…"

"Hmm, not yet," you decided, feeling him tense up beneath you. "Relax," you instructed with a free hand rubbing his thigh gently.

You continued to teasingly stroke his length, never quite giving him the pressure or speed he needed to get closer to his release, savoring every whimper and whine and sigh from him along with the satisfying weight of his cock against your palm.

It felt like you'd never get tired of wielding so much power in your hand.

"Please," he sighed, "I need more…"

"You want me to stroke you faster?" you pressed, already knowing that wasn't what he meant. He shook his head and you grinned, leaning in closer but letting go of his cock.

Slowly, you let the lace covering your core rub up against his shaft, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head. "Ohhhhh," he moaned, "oh fuck, Mistress…"

You grinned and kept rocking against him, easily feeling the warmth of him through your panties— meaning he, in turn, could feel the warmth of you. "How does it feel, baby?"

"Good," he choked out, "really, really good… fuck, I want more, I need more, please…"

"Are you my good boy, James?" you asked in a low purr. He nodded eagerly, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed nothing. "Do you want to be inside me?" you finally whispered against his ear, letting a finger run lazily up his spine and feeling him shiver so hard it was more like he was convulsing.

"Please, Mistress, I'll do anything…"

You didn't touch all of your clients sexually, due in part to the fact that they usually wanted a lot more pain than pleasure. You'd only had sex with one or two of them, and it wasn't a routine thing. Before today you never would've imagined doing this with a first-time client, but to be completely honest… he was fucking hot. The kind of guy you'd be spreading your legs for instantly if you weren't at work and he wanted to buy you a drink or grab lunch. And he was here, at your disposal, begging you for more. How could you say no?

You pulled your panties aside and gripped his cock tightly to guide it to your entrance, studying his face twisted in anticipation before sinking down and watching him gasp and sigh all at once, somehow.

It took a lot of effort to hide your own pleasure when he was stretching you out so perfectly, but you managed to suppress the desire to moan and just smile at his fucked-out expression instead.

Finally, your hips met with his and you got to sit there and enjoy the look of dawning agony as he realized you were staying completely still.

“Move, please,” he sobbed, “oh god, Mistress, please move…”

“But I thought you wanted to be inside me? Isn’t this what you asked for?”

He whined and tried to wiggle his hips; all that got him was two hard slaps to the face.

“No whining,” you instructed through your teeth. “Good boys don’t whine.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whimpered, “‘m your good boy, I promise.”

“I know you are,” you grinned, “or at least, I know you can be. Show me how good and patient you are.”

Reaching to the side a bit without getting off of him, you pulled a vibrator from your drawer. His eyes went a little wide when he saw it, and you laughed.

"Don't worry, this isn't for you. It's for me," you explained as you turned it on, inserting it between your body and his to touch the toy against your clit. He winced as you sighed contentedly. "Fuck, it feels good. Can you feel it on your cock?"

"A… a little…" he hissed.

"I bet it feels good for you too," you posited, "but not good enough to make you come."

After a little pause, he nodded breathlessly.

"Good," you smiled. "I just wanna come with your cock inside me. I wanna know how it feels to get off with my favorite toy while being full of my newest toy."

"Fuck," he groaned.

"Do you like that, pretty boy? Do you like me using your cock, being your Mistress' dumb little fucktoy?"

"Yes," he sobbed, hips shifting ever so slightly beneath you as he sought more stimulation from your flexing walls. Shifting the vibe to hit right on your clit, you cried out— and he did too, at the feeling of you tightening around him.

"God, you love being Mistress' dildo, don't you?"

He nodded, biting hard on his lip until you worried he'd hurt himself. He moaned again as another jolt of pleasure forced your channel to clench on his cock.

"You're making too much noise for a fucktoy, you need to be quiet."

He opened his mouth for a second, but closed it again and nodded instead.

"You can do it yourself right?" you pressed, seeing him nod. "You don't need me to gag that pretty mouth?"

He whined but shook his head, keeping his lips pressed together.

That went on for a few more moments as you teased yourself with the vibe, hoping to draw this out for the sake of his struggle. Wanting to up the ante, you took the vibe off your clit and turned it off for a moment. "I think this would feel better with a little lube… will you get it wet for me, James?"

You brought the toy to his lips and he eagerly wrapped them around it, sucking lightly on the silicone with those pretty lashes resting on his cheeks.

"There you go, that's a good boy," you praised, pulling the toy from his mouth, "that's my good boy…"

"Yours…" he repeated weakly, "wanna be good for you, just for you…"

This time when you turned it on and pressed it to your clit again, you instantly gasped and felt your walls bare down on him; turning up the vibration, you actually moaned aloud and saw him wince. "Oh, can you feel it now?" you asked tauntingly. He bit his lip and nodded.

It really wasn't even intentional but you felt your hips start to rock, making him gasp as his eyes shot open. For a guy who had been begging you to move not too long ago, he looked pretty overwhelmed by it now.

"Fuck, I'm gonna make myself come on your cock… do you wanna feel me come, baby?"

He seemed conflicted, which was exactly what you were going for. You wanted him to struggle, just enough, between his need to satisfy himself and his desire to please you. "I… I want to make you come, Mistress," he finally choked out, notably answering a slightly different question than the one you'd asked.

You smiled and leaned in to whisper in his ear: "Are you afraid that if you feel me come around you, you won't be able to hold back? That you might accidentally come inside me?"

He made a needy little groan and nodded.

"Don't worry, baby, I'm gonna help you," you promised sweetly, but of course as soon as he saw you grab a cockring from your drawer he changed his tune.

"N-no, Mistress, please," he begged with wide eyes, "I'll be good, just not that— don't put that on me."

You smirked and sat up, pulling off of him and slowly slipping the ring on his throbbing length as he quietly pleaded for mercy. He winced when you pushed it down to the base of him, his cheeks burning hot red now.

"Is it a little too tight, baby?" you cooed, grinning when he nodded. "Good."

You sank back down into him and let your hips grind on his, working your clit with the vibe and even kicking it up to the next highest setting. He jolted beneath you, clearly feeling the vibrations strongly now, and you let the view of his beautifully broken facial expression egg on your own climax.

"Mm, I'm close, baby," you whispered, "just stay still and let Mistress use you like a good little boy."

He made a small noise through his teeth but seemed to manage okay, even when your walls began to pulse rhythmically around him and your head fell back, your free hand palming at your breast through the lace bra just to add that last little edge of sensation.

"Oh fuck, fuck," you moaned, "that's my good boy…"

You shakily pulled the vibe away and turned it off, still a little numb on your clit but feeling your channel still rippling slightly with aftershocks; he seemed to feel them in spite of their subtlety, if the panting breaths that filled his muscular chest rapidly were any indication.

As slow as you could manage, you pulled your body off of him and sat back on his legs to stare at his cock. The remnants of your orgasm left plenty of lubrication to stroke it, focusing on the head which had turned almost purple now.

"M-Mistress," he groaned, writhing under your touch.

Amazingly, his cock was already flexing in your hand, and a growl of pride and hunger echoed in your chest.

“Oh fuck, can you come for me, James?” you moaned, pumping him so fast your hand was a blur. “Can you be my good boy and come right through the cockring?”

“Yes,” he sobbed, “gonna come, Mistress, please—”

“Come right now,” you demanded, watching his face instantly fall slack as he spurted out onto his own chest and stomach, cock flexing and pulsing in your hands as his legs quivered and his hips thrusted wildly.

And the tears were flowing soon after. You weren’t sure if it was sub drop or just the power of his release, but between weak sobs he whispered broken apologies.

“You did so good,” you cooed as you slipped off the ring and wrapped your arms around him, subtly trying to reach over to untie the ropes. But you didn’t need to; he flexed his arms and the restraints popped like floss. He embraced you in return as you let his head fall onto your chest. “You’re so good, it’s okay,” you continued, stroking his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated again, breathing quickly and wetting you with his tears.

This, you realized, is what he had made you sign the contract to protect. It wasn’t that he was excessively embarrassed about his sexual proclivities, but that this was his space to be soft, and weak, and broken. Apparently he wasn’t ready for anyone else to know that he wasn’t steel all the way down.

“Shh, it’s okay… you’re okay…” you breathed, indulging him in this moment even though it was more intimate than you preferred to get with customers. Aftercare was an important part of your job, certainly, but so was enforcing boundaries.

He began to soothe as you kissed his forehead gently, whispering well-deserved affirmations and praise. As his breathing slowed and moved back to normal, he pulled back and looked up at you.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated one more time, but not as wavering as before, “I didn’t think I would… that was unexpected.”

“No, it’s somewhat normal,” you exaggerated slightly, “this kind of thing… it’s taxing, I pushed you to your limits. You were really tough, and it’s all very vulnerable.”

“Thanks,” he sighed, sniffling and wiping his eyes. “And sorry about your ropes,” he smiled as he noticed the frayed ends coming off of where his wrists were still tied.

“Let me help you get those off,” you smiled, loosening the knots and sliding the binds off of him, quickly massaging the places that the rope had constricted. “Blood flow’s okay?”

“Yep,” he nodded.

“You numb anywhere?” you pressed.

“Uh, just my dick. And my brain is all fuzzy…”

You smiled. “Can’t help the first one. Let me get you some water for the second.”

“No!” he yelped suddenly. “Um, don’t go yet, please…”

“Of course,” you smiled. “I’ll untie your ankles, then.”

He still seemed disappointed, as if he expected you to hug him for hours and never move. He let you go this time, though, and loosened his grip so you could slide down to the foot of the bed.

"Was that sort of what you were hoping for when you called me?" you asked as you untied the ropes slowly and took a moment to massage the skin underneath, hoping to restore any lost blood flow.

"So much better than what I was hoping for," he admitted with a breathless chuckle. "You're… really good."

"Well, thank you," you shrugged, "it comes with practice and experience. You held your own, too."

"I wish I could say that was from practice and experience. I didn't want to say anything before but I've, uh, never actually… been to a domme before."

You smiled slightly, coming back up and being pulled into another embrace. "Um, I'll admit I can kind of tell…" you mumbled.

"I'm not supposed to touch you like this," he realized quietly, relaxing his grip on you and pulling back. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's alright, just don't get too comfortable because we only have—" you glanced at the clock— "eight more minutes until you need to leave."

"I'll get up and get dressed soon," he offered with a sigh as you got up and quickly slipped on a robe, grabbing him a damp washcloth for the drying come on his torso.

You tilted your head as you watched him clean up, and you wanted to offer some touch that was a bit less intimate than a hug, so you found yourself blurting out: "do you like having your hair played with?"

"Um, I don't… I don't know," he admitted as he reached up to card his fingers through the hair in question. "No one else has ever really touched my hair before."

"Really?" you laughed, getting back on the bed to sit beside him. "It looks pretty luscious. I figured any girlfriend of yours would want to get her hands on it."

"Oh, well, the last time I had a girlfriend… it wasn't long then," he explained, and you kept on your best poker face. His hair looked like he'd been growing it out for at least two years, unless it grew crazy fast or something. How long had he been single? With a body like that you could barely believe that he was single now.

"Do you mind if I touch it?" you offered quietly, and once he gave you a nod you reached forward and combed your fingers through it, reaching deeper to scratch at his scalp, occasionally pulling the strands lightly into loose braid-like patterns that fell away almost immediately afterwards. He sank into your touch until you found yourself supporting his head against your chest, mindlessly playing with his hair until you noticed his eyes were shut, his breathing was slowed, and his body was limp on top of yours.

He fell asleep.

You laughed silently to yourself, realizing that you couldn't get him off of you without his cooperation since he was so heavy and you had no shot at lifting him. And, of course, his cooperation required his consciousness… which required waking him up.

And, for some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. He just looked too peaceful, for a guy who had never seemed truly relaxed around you.

Was there any other way he could relax? Cause it kinda seemed like he really, really needed this. And you were in the business of meeting needs, to say the least.

So, with an apologetic text to your last client of the night that you needed to reschedule, you let James sleep on you as you closed your eyes and drifted off as well.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #sub!bucky barnes x domme!reader

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captainunderkrupp · 3 years ago

Text

touching you is better than looking in your eyes

a new minublaze fic with a headcanon that suddenly just STRUCK me a few nights ago!!! 1.2k words, some suggestive lines, but mostly talk about dealing with disability

"May I... touch you?"

Minuet smiled at how nervous and polite Blaze was, now that they were alone together. There was no show, no one to impress, it was just them. It helped Minuet to relax as well, as a fellow chronic show off.

"Yes, of course," she murmured, nodding. Blaze nervously smiled, and gently reached out.

It was awkward, especially at first. He gasped as he put his hands on her cheeks and began traveling downward. "You're so small..."

Minuet chuckled, placing one of her own hands on the back of one of his, making him jump and blush. "Heh, yes, quite different feeling the size difference rather than seeing it..." She had a blush of her own, especially as one large purple hand dipped around her thigh and squeezed before looping back upward. It hesitated at her choker for a moment, feeling at the lace and satin, before cupping her other cheek again. He rubbed each cheek with her thumb, surprisingly gentle, even gentler when her face pinched and she made a small sound of discomfort at the feeling of her glitter being rubbed at. He gasped when his fingers found her beauty mark.

"You've got a mole!" he said, and Minuet would have felt offended if anyone else said that, but he just sounded awed, a bit of a smile on his face.

She giggled a bit in confusion, though. "Of course I have a mole, it's my beauty mark, one of the most obvious parts of my face...?" She paused.

Blaze still had his sunglasses on. She reached out, and he just barely flinched when she touched his face in turn. She lifted the glasses, only having to gather up three or four pairs to see his eyes. He was looking directly at her, sure, but... his gaze almost seemed to be looking through her.

She tilted her body to one side. His hands were still on her face and stayed there, and his gaze followed, with barely a hint of hesitation. She pulled his hands down to her shoulders and tilted to the other side, and he still followed... but didn't quite land on her face. She was dumbfounded, and didn't want to believe her theory, but... she finally held up a hand. "How many fingers am I holding up, Blaze?"

Blaze grimaced. "Uh..." He wasn’t looking at her hand. He was still looking at her face. Mostly.

He suddenly grabbed at her hand but she was quicker, moving it away with a gasp of shock.

"Blaze, are you blind??"

Blaze gulped. "Uhhhhh..."

Minuet tilted her head again, squinting. He kept vocalizing, but his eyes didn’t seem to quite follow her properly. If she made any noise, they'd land on her very exactly, but only then. And even so, she only knew that because she was one of the few people who regularly saw him without his MANY glasses. Which... she'd tried them on before. They were very dark... the way he layered them, she was practically blind when she tried to imitate that.

If he was actually blind, he wouldn't care, would he?

Blaze finally gasped as he ran out of air, and sighed. "Ok. Fine. Yes. I'm blind."

Minuet frowned, gently putting a small hand on his cheek. He placed his own over hers, practically engulfing it as he leaned into it. "Blaze... why didn't you say anything?" she asked, gently.

"...pretty much everyone back home knows already... I figured people would notice pretty quickly here. But... then they didn’t. And… even though rock trolls are pretty great about not being bothered by disability, and supporting it... you still get strange reactions, y’know? Even if I can't see a look I can feel it... so it was neat, not having people ask if I needed help down stairs, or telling me when they're ready for a stage dive, or offering too much visual description for something..."

"...those sound like... good accommodations, but like they would get a tad annoying after a while."

"Exactly," Blaze breathed emphatically, suddenly gripping her hand and grinning with excitement. Then he gentled, releasing her hand. "I sometimes need those things. But other times, even if people are casual, they make it harder. So I just... end up trying to find control, and..."

"...seem annoying in the process..." Minuet murmured.

"Yup."

Minuet nodded. "...oh gosh, your air guitar must feel extra real because you can feel it and don't have to imagine a visual as well!"

Blaze chuckled. "Since they're from my imagination, they're the clearest thing I can "see". To be honest, I was shocked and... way too excited when I realized I could "see" your guitar nearly as well as mine."

Minuet smiled gently, and then blinked as she realized... Blaze couldn't see it. "I'm... I'm very glad I was able to connect with you over air guitar then, Blaze."

He grinned. "I'm still SUPER impressed that you managed to fight your own vision and actually get it. Not many people can, especially adults... Val mostly gets it cuz we grew up together, and she still can't always play the instruments she sees."

Minuet nodded, making sure Blaze felt it. “I’m glad you had her…”

Blaze snorted. “Pfft, we still act like siblings. We HATE each other even if we’d probably murder a troll for each other if need be.” Then his look softened. “But you’re right, as always… I am grateful for her.” He looked a bit nervous, and then leaned in, gently pressing his forehead to hers. “...and for you…”

Minuet blushed, giggling as she suddenly felt all hot and nervous. Blaze almost felt like a different person in private, so much more polite and kind…

Her giggling cut short as she realized he may be compensating, trying to fit the stereotype that he had been forced into, of the inattentive asshole who didn’t bother to look where he was going and cared more about his performance than the trolls around him.

Classical trolls didn’t normally do this, but… she hugged him.

He gagged, and she was sure she was clinging too tight, but then he adjusted and held her back. His voice sounded strained, somehow, when he spoke. “Thank you, Minnie,” he choked out, and Minuet couldn’t tell if he was holding back laughter or tears. “Thank you.”

Minuet nodded into his shoulder. “Just let me know if I get too overbearing, Blaze,” she insisted, “or I won’t be able to forgive myself.”

Blaze finally laughed, a very wet laugh. She felt him let go of her with one arm and wipe a tear away. “Of course. Gotta be honest to a fault. You know me.”

Minuet snorted. “Except when you lie to cover your reputation…”

“That was one time, with Rose and Romper…”

“Twice, with the tattoo… did they know you were blind, by the way?”

“Oh, yeah, totally, I’m sure that’s the only reason they didn’t comment on my hairy sandwich…”

They talked like that for a while into the night, continuing to cuddle and explore each other with his new information in mind… and Minuet with an ever predictable determination to learn exactly how to politely accommodate her boyfriend.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed!! I am planning a rewatch of the show to see if there's any specific place where this headcanon could be DISproved, but for now it's basically an AU :) I think it would be super appropriate considering... well, everything about them. especially minuet's own self esteem issues and blaze's imagination being so powerful he can effect the real world...

EDIT: ao3 posting!!

#minublaze #trolls #trollstopia #minuet sonata #blaze powerchord #fic #fluiditywrites #writing tag #writers of tumblr #gif #dreamworks trolls #i actually sorta sat on this an extra day cuz i was like 'is this good enough tho' but then i was like FUCK IT I ENJOY IT AND I WANNA SHARE #blind blaze au

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