#and obviously not expecting to completely change overnight

[rosicheeks]

You’re doing great Rosie. Hugs

[jockbroski34]

New Blood (Chapter 2)

This is the second half of New Blood. If you haven't already, please read the first part here:

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--Braden POV--

It’s been two weeks since Jacob changed into a jock.  I almost didn’t recognize him at first.  He seemed pretty chill when I saw him first, but now he acted like a spitting image of Zach and even started to look the part too.  I even heard rumors that they started dating, which was a surprise to me because Zach always came off as straight to me.

It was just like what happened with Bradley.  They would start hanging out more and more with Zach, and then the next time you see them, they become freakishly huge and start playing football.  I’ve seen it happen twice, but I am certain it has happened before.  It wasn’t the first time I saw someone in my class walk in looking like they took steroids overnight, but it was uncommon enough for it to not be a noticeable problem.

Even worse, I know he’s still at it.  I’ve seen Zach and “Jake” talking to a guy I know in my class, Charlie.  If I had to guess, he’s their next victim, but knowing him, I’m sure he’d be begging to join them.  He’s openly gay and he’s always thirsted over the guys on the football team, even preferring my brother “Brad” over me.  Zach probably has him wrapped around his finger at this point.  Honestly, I felt bad for him for being that desperate.  I knew it would be impossible to convince someone that down bad.

One thing became clear to me after the past several months.  Zach was obviously getting closer to people in order to convince them to join the football team and become jocks like him.  I’ve seen it happen multiple times, and at this point, he’s gone too far.  I could try to tell the school about what he has been doing, but without definitive proof, I would just look crazy.  The school obviously wouldn’t care anyways because they would benefit from a better football team to put their school’s name on the board.

As far as I know, no one in the school really seems to notice or care about people changing before their very eyes.  They are completely oblivious.  They don’t even care that they could be the one chosen to be targeted next.  I’m basically all on my own here.  This has to have been happening for almost a year at this point and I have to do something.  I have to stop Zach and the rest of the team from turning these students into meathead jocks.

I began to investigate Zach and the rest of the football team.  I went down the roster and made a list of every person who I definitely knew had been turned into a jock.  There were a few more than I had expected to be honest.  About thirty percent, I believe.  These people had all gone through the drastic changes involved with joining the team, including the increased body growth.

There was one person who I specifically wanted to find information on, Zach.  I decided to browse his Instagram to find even a hint of any tangible evidence that I could use against him.  He had a lot of photos, with most of the recent ones being him showing off his body or partying.  I wouldn’t expect much else from a douchebag like him.  Although my investigation did not bear much fruit, I did find something interesting.  As I scrolled through his old photos, I saw a boy both similar, yet entirely different to the cocky, muscular quarterback I knew.  Was he one of the ones that was changed too?

The photo, about two years ago, showed an entirely different Zach.  He was certainly still tall for his age, and definitely still taller than I am now.  He was more on the skinnier side, however, and his face had softer, more boyish features compared to his more chiseled self.  He had a longer hairstyle which contrasted with the short style he was rocking now.  He still had the same verdant green eyes, although they had a more innocent look compared to the confidence his current self was full of.  If you had shown me this picture without any of the information I know, I would’ve thought this was his cute little brother.

The more I thought about it, the more I started to wonder.  How did he do it?  Him being one of the earlier guys to transform combined with him being the quarterback and the team captain led me to believe that he had to be one of the first, perhaps being the prototype.

I saw another photo of the old Zach from three years ago.  It was him with two older men at a football game, each one of them adorning a jersey to match with the others in the crowded stadium.  The man next to Zach bore enough similarities with him that I assumed that he was his father, but the other man’s identity was still a mystery.  The face looked familiar however, but I figured it was just a coincidence.  Maybe he was an uncle or an old family friend?  Either way, I came to the conclusion that Zach was likely always into football even at a young age.  I wouldn’t find it surprising that he would want to play football, but anyone with eyes could see that it would be impossible to achieve that kind of body in just two years even with nonstop training and a strict diet.  I considered the possibility that steroids could have been involved, but how would he be able to even get his hands on them, let alone supply them to that many people?

I then tried to broaden my perspective a bit, and an interesting theory entered my mind.  The football coach would obviously know of the changes, right?  He couldn’t just turn a blind eye after some guys just randomly became jocks and wanted to join the team, right?  In fact, he would have much to gain by turning his players into the ideal version of a high school football player.  Stronger players mean more wins.  More wins mean more success for the team and for the school.  No wonder why the school doesn’t care.  They are directly benefiting from this!

So I decided that I would dig deeper on the coach.  Unsurprisingly, he was a former football player and coach, but decided to move to this town about three to four years ago.  At the college he went to, he majored in psychology.  I found the pair between football and psychology to be a strange fit, with very little overlap.  But then I started to think.  He obviously knows a lot about the human mind.  Maybe that’s why the guys on the team like Bradley and Jacob came out acting like entirely different people.  He had to have done something to them subconsciously, perhaps some form of hypnosis or brainwashing.  Bradley would often mention things that obviously never happened, so I am sure his memories were tampered with.  I would know.  I’ve known him my entire life and he never cared about sports before now.  Just as I had figured out a hypothesis on how they might have changed mentally, I still didn’t know how their bodies might have changed.  I defaulted to my original idea, steroids, but I didn’t know how a high school coach would get steroids for his players.  Surely he’s smart enough to want to avoid that scandal.

I remembered the coach’s face.  I’ve definitely seen it before at least once at school, but it was also the other man in the photo with Zach!  So it seems that the coach knew Zach before he became a jock.  I’m guessing he and his father were close?  If I’m on the right track, Zach could have been his guinea pig for his experiments, since he would have to be one of the first guys to undergo the jock transformation.

I wrote all of the important evidence I had into a document, but then I heard the front door open.  Shit, Brad, no, Bradley came home early from football practice!  I quickly saved the document onto my flash drive, and hid it in my pocket.  We shared the same computer, so I couldn’t risk him finding it, even though he would probably just look up sports statistics or porn instead.  Bradley was seemingly unaware by the time he entered our shared room.

“Hey bro,” Bradley said.  “Doing homework already?  You’re a much harder worker than me, bro.”  The old Bradley would never say bro.  And he was arguably a better student than me.

“Yeah,” I responded, sarcastically.  I was honestly getting tired of him after all that has been going on.  “Not that you would know anything about studying, you dumb brute.”  I grabbed my things and left for the living room, not wanting to be anywhere near my changed brother, nor near his sweaty, unwashed clothes that he left on the floor.

“What’s wrong bro?” Bradley followed me, his large feet stomping on the floor with every step.  “You not feeling alright?  I’m going on a run in a little bit if you want to come with.  It’ll help clear your head.”  I was fuming at his ignorance.  It was at this moment that I burst.

“You are what’s wrong ‘bro’!  Ever since you started hanging out with Zach and joined the football team, you’ve been completely unrecognizable!  You’re just another jock now!”

“So what?  I like being on the team and I like hanging out with the guys.”

“Is that really you in there or is that Zach or Coach doing the talking for you?  You were never like this before you met them.  I know that they changed you!”  I realized I may have said too much.

“I guess they did rub off on me a little, but I did this for me, bro,”  I rolled my eyes at the idea that anyone would willingly agree to be transformed into a jock.  “I know you and I have grown apart these past couple months, but I just want us to get along again like we used to, bro.  No matter what.”  He reached out for a hug, but I pushed him away.  The man in front of me was not my brother.  Besides, he’d probably break a bone or two.

“You are not my ‘bro’!  If you want us to be brothers again, you can start by quitting the team.  You’re never gonna get anywhere in life by throwing footballs and getting concussions.”

“You’ll never understand, little bro.”  Bradley seemed disappointed, and left through the front door, likely going on another one of his runs.  I felt a wave of anger and shame rush over me, not just at my foolish brother, but at myself for being unable to connect with him.  The rest of the night went by as usual, only we were even more cold towards each other than we were earlier.  Dinner was incredibly awkward, with our tension hanging over the dinner table.  We avoided eye contact and didn’t even say a word to each other the whole night.  As I tried to fall asleep, I knew that we couldn’t keep living like this.  Something needed to change.

--Jake POV--

I woke up to the sound of an alarm in Zach’s warm embrace, his toned arms barely wrapped around my new, larger body.  His thick legs tangled in between mine like a knot and his 9-inch serpent in his jockstrap pressed against my back.  I had slept the night at his place again, but it was pretty common these days now that we were officially a couple.  We saw each other almost every day, whether it was at school, practice, the gym, or watching football together on Sunday.  The other bros grew a little jealous of us, but it’s a little hard not to be.

I thought about what happened the other day.  Memories of the lessons prior were drowned out by the practice, and by me and Zach recruiting the newbie to the team.  You see, Zach was not only the team captain and our star quarterback.  He was also responsible for recruiting new members to the team and getting people interested in football, and he asked me to help him out, which I obviously agreed to.

Obviously I now know how the recruitment process actually works, seeing as he had done it to me weeks ago, but it is different watching it compared to seeing it happen to yourself.  Unlike me, the new recruit took less time and was very eager to join the team.  Charlie was a nerdy kid, and gay too, but he had a slight interest in football, but mainly for the hot guys who played it.  I empathized with him, seeing as I was lusting over Zach just weeks ago.  Naturally, me and Zach helped him realize that he could be one of those hot football jocks who he jerked off to, while also allowing him to appreciate the art of the game on more than a surface level.  I watched Charlie transform and he was already in love with his new body and jock persona.  He’s now one of the guys he’s thirsted for, and maybe if he’s lucky, he can get to suck off one of the bros.  I don’t think any of them are gay, though, but if little bro tries to make a move on Zach though, I’ll beat the shit out of him.  Maybe I’ll try to hook him up with another new gay recruit.

I heard a buzzing sound from the nightstand in front of me.  I grabbed my phone, which lit up in the dark room.  My new lock screen was a picture of me and Zach, our arms over each other’s shoulders, in our football uniforms after a hard-fought victory.  Brad had messaged the group chat and it seemed like he had something important to share.

“hey bros my little bro braden is mad at me for joining the team and i think he knos about wat teh team is doin hes obv mizrabl and i want us to get along agan think zach and coach can turn him into a jock liek me?”

I remembered Braden and how antagonistic he acted towards me and the other members of the team.  I still haven’t forgiven him for being so judgmental towards us.  We just wanted to play football and be bros together.  What was wrong with that?  Judging from what Brad said, it is clear that he’s already gathering evidence on us just like he had said, as he knows about not just Zach, but Coach too.  If the secrets of our program leaks, it could be very bad news.  Because he was an enemy to the team, he was an enemy to me.  However, I felt like I could forgive him if he joined us.  Plus, I wanted him to see firsthand why we loved this lifestyle so much.  I responded in the group chat.

“yea we shud do it b4 he trys telling any1 he knows about zach alredy and he knows i changed and tryd to warn me lets talk after practice”

Zach started to rise from his slumber, realizing that he had slept past his alarm and he gave me a kiss on the lips.  I informed him of the situation with Braden and he agreed that this was probably the best option.  I didn’t care if he would try to resist us, but he needed to know that we were not to be fucked with.  Zach went downstairs to make breakfast for the two of us while I got ready for school.

I changed into one of Zach’s T-shirts that he let me wear and a pair of basketball shorts, and then I put on my hat, adorned with the team’s logo, and twisted the brim backward.  Damn, I looked good.  I got turned on by the man staring back at me in the mirror, with his toned body and cocky smirk that showed everyone that he was on top of the world.  I could tell that my transformation was corrupting me, but in the best way possible.  I loved it.  This was everything I ever wanted.

On my plate were eggs, bacon, and peanut butter toast.  Zach didn’t take his studies too seriously but at least he knew how to cook a good, protein-rich meal.  It was a feast fit for muscular kings like ourselves.  I chugged the protein shake that he made for me, rich with a chocolate flavor, before we got into my car and drove to school.

We arrived at school, sat through a bunch of boring lectures, and as soon as that was over, we went straight to practice.  Earlier in the day, I bumped into Braden to show him who he was up against.  He just glared back at me.  It was an odd feeling knowing the power I had over others, but the idea of being stronger and better than everyone made me hard.  While we waited for Coach to arrive, we discussed what to do about Braden.  Charlie said that he had final period with him and that he looked at him funny.  I found the coincidence that Charlie shared a class with him to be quite hilarious, and I imagined the irony of the situation to drive him insane.  Brad said that his mom was going out of town for the week to visit family and his dad worked late hours, so he would have no one to pick him up.

With that information, I devised a plan.  Since Brad would probably have to pick up Braden from school, we could use this opportunity in our favor and get him alone with us.  Since we have practice tomorrow, he will have to stay until after we are finished, so as long as we can keep track of him, we should be able to take him to the locker room in order to be transformed.  With the plan ready to go, we started practice.  After that, me and Zach went to the gym and my biceps were swollen after a hard workout.  I definitely reached a new high today, and I felt great.  Zach decided to spend the night at my place as we tried to iron out any potential flaws in our plan.  Zach seemed proud that I was taking an active role in the team.

“Hey bro, you’re doing a great job helping me to keep this team going.  Whether it’s winning games, or helping out during practice, or giving new recruits the sweet taste of what it’s like to be a jock, you’re really awesome.  When I first met you, I never imagined you would make this great of a jock.”

I blushed.  No one had ever praised me that much.  “What can I say bro?  I learned from the best,”  I responded as I kissed him.  He wrapped his arms and body around me and spooned me like the night before.  As I drifted to sleep, I reflected on Zach and the other guys on the team.  They brought out the best in me.  I fought for my life for them on the field just as they did for me.  Off the field, they were like the brothers I never had.  But Zach was the only person I felt truly understood me on a personal level.  He made me who I am and he showed me how to make other guys as great as we are.  And I eagerly awaited tomorrow when we would have yet another new recruit.

--Braden POV--

Looks like the jocks are at it again.  Charlie was officially turned into yet another musclehead jock.  We were kinda close, since we talked a bit during class, and I genuinely did get along with him despite his preference for jocks.  To be honest, I thought he was kinda cute, but all he would talk about is how hot the football guys were which was a turn-off to me.  I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that he gave in to them.  I’m sure he’ll have a great time taking dick in the locker room like he always dreamed of.

It was at this point that I finally developed a plan to put an end to the football team’s schemes.  I learned the other day that my mom was going to visit family for the week, so I would be alone with “Brad” until my dad got home.  Normally this would be a nightmare for me, since I’d have to stay at school until after his practice since he would be responsible for driving me home.  I decided that while he and the other jocks were at practice, I would sneak into the locker room in order to find any evidence that these guys were turning into jocks.  The more the better, but even just one piece of evidence would surely be enough to raise some suspicion against them. If I find any incriminating evidence, I’ll report it straight to the school and the police.  It’s all up to me at this point.

After class, I went to the library to get some peace and quiet and to get a headstart on some homework before commencing with my operation.  I found it hard to concentrate because I was so on edge.  I figured I wouldn’t have any problems since practice was still over an hour long, but the anticipation was killing me.  I was also distracted by heavy stomping outside.  It was after school!  Couldn’t they keep it down at least a little?  And then, even though I should’ve been alone, I heard someone else enter the library.

It was Charlie!  What was he doing here?  Shouldn’t he be at practice?  He was still wearing his uniform too.  I had to admit, his new look did suit him.  I found myself staring at his nice round bubble butt.  It was always on the larger side, but it had to look even bigger now.  His football pants helped to emphasize his best features.  What am I even saying?  Even if he was objectively more handsome, any attraction I would have for him would vanish as soon as he opened his dumb mouth.

“Hey, Brady!  I didn’t know you were still here,”  Charlie greeted me with a stupid grin on his face.  I hated that he was trying so hard to be friendly with me.

“Yeah, Bradley has to pick me up today,”  I responded.  Surely just putting up with him would get him off my back for a while.  The last thing I wanted was for him to interfere with my plans.  “What are you doing here?  I thought you’d be at practice.”

“I forgot my book in class, so I went to go get it really quick.  But then, I saw you.  Brad did say that he would be picking you up today.”  What an odd excuse.  I couldn’t imagine the coach letting him leave practice early for a stupid reason like that.

“Couldn’t you just go after practice?  Like don’t you have better things to do?”

“I told Coach I’d be quick.  Plus, I wanted to see you!”  He wrapped his meaty arm around my scrawny shoulder.  I could smell a strong waft from his armpit, from the sweat of a hard workout.  I would’ve pushed him off me, but there was little point fighting back against a man as strong as he is.  It was a friendly gesture anyways.

“I’m kinda sad that we don’t talk much, bro.  I know I spend a lot of time on the football team, but I would’ve liked to get to know you better.  I think you should join the team so we can hang out more.”

“I’m not…” my annoyant tone was paused as Charlie pushed his face into mine.  He was kissing me?  I had to admit, he was a good kisser, both strong and passionate.  I wasn’t sure if he was naturally like this or if his jock side made him a better kisser.  As our lips parted, I felt my face turn beet red.  I was overwhelmed, embarrassed, confused, furious, annoyed…No.  I couldn’t find any one word to describe how I felt.  I knew I wasn’t supposed to kiss him, but it did genuinely feel nice even if I couldn’t stand Charlie the jock.  I had to get it together.  He was obviously trying to mess with me, but my answer stayed the same.  “I’m not joining the team.”

“Yes you are,” a voice said as a set of hands grabbed me from behind.  Before I could call out for help, one of the firm hands covered my mouth, deafening my cries for help.  Fuck, it was Jake!  He must’ve snuck in while I was distracted and disoriented.  He effortlessly picked me up and shoved me into a black gym bag.  I was trapped.  I couldn’t see a thing and no one could hear me either.  It was a tight fit and I couldn’t fight back against the scent of old, sweaty gym clothes.

“Good work, little bro,”  Jake said as he high-fived Charlie.  “Now let’s take him to the locker room.”  Shit, they were already one step ahead of me.  I had to admit, these meathead jocks were smarter than I thought.  I remembered Charlie’s words and I realized what they were going to do to me.  They were planning to turn me into a jock!  This cannot be happening.  As I tried to think of a plan to get out of this situation, my mind became clouded by the intoxicating scent inside the bag.  I hated the smell of sweat and musk, but for some reason, I started to feel a little hard.  For some reason, I picked up one of the articles of clothing, a sweaty unwashed jockstrap, and out of curiosity, I found myself sniffing it.  I became distracted by the pungent smell momentarily as I was carried to my destination.

When I finally saw light again, I was surrounded by a horde of members of the football team in the locker room.  They all stood in a circle and they looked like predators, and I was their prey.  I contemplated the idea of running, but I knew it was physically impossible to outrun even one of them with their superior athletic abilities.  I thought about begging for mercy, but I knew they could not be reasoned with and because of my pride, I didn’t want me to come across as weak.  Brad walked over to me, carrying an entire football uniform that seemed way too big for me.

“Put them on, bro,” he ordered.  I obliged, seeing as I no longer had any say in the matter.  I felt a sense of embarrassment because the clothes were way too big on me.  It felt like I was a kid trying to wear his dad’s clothes.

“You’ll grow into it, trust me,” Jake said, his hand on Zach's shoulder, a proud smirk plastered on his face.  My worst fears were realized.  I didn’t know how but they were going to turn me into one of them, yet another jock.

“You’re probably wondering why we brought you here, little bro.  Well, we know you’ve been trying to get in our way.  You’re the only student in this school who knows or even cares what we do.  You’re the minority, bro,”  Brad explained.  He reached into my backpack which he was holding and pulled out the flash drive that stored all my evidence.  “I noticed that you were trying to hide this the other day when I came in.  You might just think I’m a ‘dumb brute’ but even I couldn’t miss something that obvious.  I wonder why you had to hide it, bro…” he teased as he inserted it into a laptop on one of the benches.  It didn’t take long for him to find the document I used to share my findings.

“Well, well…” Zach teased.  “Looks like someone did their research.  I’m kinda impressed at how much you use your brain, bro.  Too bad you won’t be needing it for much anymore.”  He then proceeded to delete the file as my hard work was erased from the flash drive.  I felt mortified as my hard work was all for nothing and I realized what was going to become my fate.  I then heard footsteps coming in from outside.

“I believe this is our first time meeting,” a commanding voice stated.  From the way he spoke, I felt any amount of defiance I still had in me turn into submissiveness, like a father catching his son sneaking out at night.   “It seems you already know who I am, but I’m Coach Myers.  I’m sure you’re full of questions, and don’t worry, I’ll have plenty of time to answer every last one of them.”

I was looking at the man in charge, the mastermind behind all of the jocks who were transformed.  I had so much I wanted to ask him, both out of curiosity and anger, that I didn’t know where to start.

“What caused you to turn these students into jocks?”  I asked.

“Good question.  I was always interested in bringing out the best in one’s self, but I never knew where to start until recently.  Me and Zach’s father were close friends in the NFL.  As a result, Zach always looked up to me, but even though he wanted to be a football player like his father, he wasn’t able to cut it.”

I looked at Zach, who normally seemed very confident and arrogant, but for the first time since I’ve seen him, for just a split second, he felt humbled, reminded of his shortcomings.  For once, I kinda felt bad for the guy even though I thought he was a total douche.  Despite the sob story, I still realized that what he had done was too far.

“He approached me in tears one day.  He wished he was stronger, wished he was more like the guys he looked up to at school.  And that’s when I realized that maybe I could help him.  And so we spent almost a year studying ways to transform his body and even his mind into the perfect football player.  And eventually, we succeeded.  Zach was exactly the person he dreamed of being.”

I now knew why and how it began.  Zach was the first, the alpha.  But why did he keep doing it?  “You helped to make Zach who he is now, but why did you continue to do it to other students?”  I asked.

“I’m glad you asked.  Although changing Zach was my finest achievement, I realized that there were many kids his age who were just like him.  Some felt inadequate, incomplete, inferior, and some just lacked any purpose in general.  So I gave these boys that purpose, and I made them into the strong men that they always dreamed of being.  And not just in this school.  High schools and colleges all across America are doing the exact same thing we are doing, all thanks to my innovations.”

I was shocked by this revelation.  This jock problem was happening at an even larger scale than I could’ve possibly imagined.  Surely there had to have been hundreds of guys turned into jocks just like here at this school, perhaps even some of the ones that tried to oppose them like me.  I realized how hopeless I felt.

“I know my research is unethical but I believe that what I am doing is right.  But back to you, do you not feel at least a little envious of your brother?”

I looked over at Brad…why was I calling him Brad?  I have to admit, I was always a little jealous of him.  He always seemed to be the favorite child, and now that he’s been jocked and has joined the football team, he’s infinitely more popular than me.  If I were just like him, then maybe…No.  That’s what he wants me to think.  But at the same time, I could imagine myself becoming as strong as him, becoming as popular as him.

And then I realized the futility of this decision.  They were going to turn me into a jock anyways.  But for some reason, I had warmed up to the idea, in a way that would’ve sickened me just an hour earlier.  Maybe I was experiencing Stockholm Syndrome, or maybe I did feel envious of Brad this whole time just like how Coach Myers described.

“Coach can make you just like he made me.  We’ll finally get along again, and we can bond better than we ever could before.  What do you say bro?”  Brad asked.

I looked at my brother, then around to the other jocks around me, then finally to Coach.  If I said yes, then I would have a brother again.  I’ll be more attractive and more popular and maybe I’ll even be happier this way.  Maybe Charlie will want to go out with me.  But that would mean erasing who I am to become yet another jock.  That I would lose and all of this would be for nothing.  Who am I kidding?  I already lost.  I was doomed to become a jock the moment I tried to intervene in their plans.  But you know, maybe this isn’t so bad.  I tried to imagine my jock life with a newfound sense of optimism.

“You’ll have to consent to joining the team before we can move forward,” Coach informed me.

“Enough with your monologue, I’ll do it,” I answered, with a sense of humiliation as I surrendered.  However, there was a slight smirk on my face, either from embarrassment or from how absurd my situation really was.

“That took less time than I expected,”  Coach responded.  “The rest of you, resume practice drills.  Braden, come with me.”  I obliged, anticipating what the Coach had in store for me.  I signed a form, put on some earbuds, and put the helmet on.  

As the hypnotic video in front of me played, I slowly became entranced by the spiral that was sucking me into my new life as I felt parts of my mind become erased, including any part of me that still tried to resist this.  “I wanted this,” I thought to myself as new thoughts and memories started to fill the gaps in my mind.  It was like a computer deleting old files that weren’t important in order to make room for stuff that mattered way more.  I always looked up to my brother Brad, as he was a year older than me.  He was incredibly talented at football, so naturally, I followed in his footsteps.  Being younger, I was less experienced than him, but he was a good role model and I aspired to match him as a player.  He was like the touchdown in the endzone and I was at the 50 yard line to put it in better terms.

My body changed entirely.  Every muscle in my body expanded, like I was being pumped full of air.  My football uniform that was way too big at first, soon fit me like a glove.  It was a little painful at first, but I soon felt a wave of euphoria rush over me as I became obsessed with my body, especially my new dick, which more than doubled in size to a massive 10 inches.  I started to resemble the new Brad, with the same short buzzcut.  Before we didn’t look much alike.  Brad was always more on the chubby side and I was on the skinnier side.  But now, we could almost pass as twins.  You could still tell which one of us was the little brother though.

This is who I am.  This is who I always was.  I am a football jock.  I started to love the idea of playing sports and working out, along with other things.  Except I always did?  Part of me remembered thinking the jocks were stupid, arrogant, and annoying brutes, but that’s wrong because all my friends are jocks and they are really cool, bro.  Bro.  Bro, bro, bro…I’m starting to like that word, dude.  Eventually I woke up, without any knowledge of what had taken place today, reveling in my new changes.

“I take it you won’t be a problem anymore, kid?”  Coach inquired.

“No Coach!  I’m sorry for causing you trouble dude,”  I answered.  Part of me felt off, and I felt confused for a second.  I wondered what got me in trouble, but I shrugged it off because I don’t think about that kind of stuff.

“I did keep some of your smarts, unlike the others, but you definitely won’t come off that way.  Your grades were better than the rest and I figured it’d be a waste if they were to completely go away.  How would you like to help me expand upon my research?”

“That’d be awesome, sir!”  I answered.  My new self couldn’t comprehend the irony that I would be directly helping Coach with the very schemes I was trying so hard to stop in the first place.  But why would I ever want to put an end to the very thing that made me who I am now?  I didn’t look or act the part, but I’m kinda smart I guess.  I’m not a fucking nerd or a know-it-all though.  Not that I really want to use my brain more than I have to except for counting calories and football plays.  I was interested in turning more men into awesome jocks like me though.  “Can I go back to practice?”

“Yeah, go meet up with the other boys.  I’ll be out in a sec.”

I joined my fellow bros and we resumed practice.  Playing football just felt natural to me.  We held a party after the game on Friday to celebrate our win.  We were on a huge winning streak.  We hadn’t even lost once this season!  At the party, Charlie asked me out, impressed with my masculine new look.  Turns out he did like me back after all.  He kissed me in the library after all, although I don’t remember why we were there in the first place.  He was always kinda hot, so I said yes, and we quickly realized how much chemistry we had beyond being bros.  We were soon the second couple on the team, the other being Jake and Zach, who were a year above us, who were just as cool.  Nothing wrong with some bro on bro action after all.

Me and Brad had a bit of a fight a while ago, but we’re cool now.  I’m even closer with my big bro than I had ever been before, especially now that we’re on the team together.  I loved life with my bros and I knew my bros loved their lives too.  After practice, I would stay after with Coach and Zach and we would look into ways to create more and even better jocks.  I haven’t been filled in on the finer details yet, but I know that they have big plans not only for this school, but for other schools as well.  I found this purpose along with playing football to be much more compelling to me than anything else.  If there was a part of me that was upset about this life, it definitely wasn’t there anymore because I loved being a jock.

--Zach POV--

I spent the night at Jake’s place again.  Today was a long day though.  Between practice and all the stuff with Braden, I was exhausted.  It did feel like everything was resolved though, and I felt satisfied knowing that our secrets were safe now.  I laid in Jake’s bed and I talked with him.

“Another jock well done bro,” I said, as I wrapped my arms around and kissed my boyfriend.

“We were awesome today,” Jake responded.  “I can tell that Braden is already loving his new jock body.  Glad he could finally see the light, bro.”

“Can’t blame him.  I have no regrets about anything though, even Braden.  How about you bro?”

“Me neither.  I love being a jock and I love making my bros into jocks too.  I’m with you every step of the way, bro.”

“That’s my bro!”  I rustled Jake’s hair before leaning in for a kiss.  For the first time ever, I felt completely content with my life.  I have Jake, Coach, and all my other bros to support me.  I’m the captain and star quarterback of the football team and I carry us to victory every game.  The jock life is perfect for me and for all my bros.  If even Braden could see how awesome it was, I knew that anyone could if given the chance.  I got hard as I imagined what it would be like if every guy at school was as strong and handsome as me.  If everyone was a jock.  With Jake on my side and everyone else, I knew we could take on anything, anyone.  Maybe even the world.  “We still have lots of work to do.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is the end of this series for now, so thank you for reading it. I'm open to expanding upon it even more in the future if the demand is high enough and if I have ideas on where to take it. I also have a lot of other shorter transformation story ideas that I want to write eventually, so stay tuned.

[jinkookspencil]

like couples do | knj

you run out of period products at dawn, and there's only one person who's up....

description/tags: namjoon drabble / fwb to lovers / fluff / but mentions the fact that namjoon and reader had unprotected sex (don't do this) and reader is relieved to get her period afterwards / so obviously mentions of period and blood / maybe a bit angsty? / been busy and been working on a request! but it's been a while since i wrote namjoon and, gosh, i love writing for him even though whatever comes to me for him is usually the most random bursts and ideas, like this one i thought of last night / let me know what you think <3

wc: ~1.6k words

+

Your gasp pulls you from heaven to hell.

Extracted from your dream, you’re out of the covers in a flash, dazed as you try to meet your reality. The room was sweltering despite autumn settling in and the fan whizzing away in your room as it always did. The sound you’d grown so accustomed to only made it harder to think, but you didn’t have to. The wet pools at your back and around your body suddenly made themselves known, with your black pajama top sticking to your sweaty skin. With a quick change into a tank top and a sip of cold water, you were ready to escape into a dreamland, far from the hellhole that had been your bedroom...

Only to be met with a small pool of a different kind when you pull away the blanket.

Fuck.

Quickly feeling between your thighs confirmed it - you bled through your shorts.

Well, at least it’s here, you think, your heart settling after days worrying about the sudden delay in your cycle. After all, Namjoon hadn’t used any protection… 

It was hard to put away the mental image of him once you were in the bathroom, remembering that one time he had you propped up on the cabinet, but looking through it now, the panic returns. You were all out of pads and tampons.

This is why people have roommates. Or stupidly organized Virgo boyfriends, you think, cursing yourself while rummaging through every drawer, cupboard, and overnight bag without finding a single tampon for the evening. 

The minutes spent on your phone were quick to squash any more of your hopes - the delivery service app had been shut down for the night after some seemingly catastrophic bug on their end, and your female friends who lived nearby hadn't answered your texts and calls, as expected at this time of day.

Reading the time on your phone, you knew one person who would definitely be up. The person who always showed up. The man worked ridiculous hours, following his ‘late-night creativity’… unless the universe really wanted to torture you and, for the very first time, he’d be asleep as well.

You consider running to the convenience store, double layering your bottoms with black fabrics, and taking a scooter... only for a stinging cramp to shock you at your lower back.

He had to answer.

+

to: joon 🌒[3:58am] - hi are you up?

to: joon🌒 [3:58am] - text asap please it’s urgent

to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - yes i’m up. are you okay y/n?

to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - i’m finally done with work for the night.

to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - are you okay? i’ll call as soon as i’m out of the building.

to: joon🌒 [4:02am] - don’t call i’m embarrassed to say this to you out loud plus i'm in pain

to: joon 🌒 [4:02am] - can you get me some pads and tampons? i got my period (aka the pain) and i’m all out so….

to: joon🌒 [4:02am] - i need em and i can’t get em

to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - y/n of course. phew i thought this was going in literally the complete opposite way considering…

to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - anyways, aren’t we past embarrassment? never feel that when it comes to me please.

to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - safe space just for us, remember? 

to: joon🌒 [4:04am] - yes :) thanks joon 

to: y/n🍀 [4:04am] - :) getting on my bike now. i’ll be there in 10.

to: y/n🍀 [4:04am] - the sky’s starting to change colors. look outside, pretty :) (1 image attached)

+

The knock, though expected, jolts you enough for your new bedsheet to spring away from your grasp once again. Frustrated, a groan escapes you as you walk to your front door, tightening the robe that covered your body and stained shorts.

“Sorry I’m late,” Namjoon giggles at the door, seeing your furrowed expression. “Oh, you’re most definitely on your period, huh?”

“Get in here and shut up,” you groan once more, letting him in. All too familiar with your place, he unpacks one of the bags in his hand, carefully displaying an array of period products on the nearest table. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t send a photo and ask me to choose one,” you say, grabbing one of the boxes.

“I… I grabbed everything in the aisle without thinking. Shit, I should’ve sent a photo, right? Are these not good enough? Are they the wrong size? Will they fit your....? I can go to another convenience store,” he murmurs, head tilted down as he surveys the products before you.

“No, Namjoon, honey, the photo is just a thing boyfriends tend to do when they’re asked to get period products. You asked the same size and fit question, though,” you laugh before quickly realizing you compared his actions to that of a boyfriend. Something he most definitely was not.

“I lived in a dorm full of boys, how was I supposed to know?” he says, scratching his head.

“These are perfect, and I’m stocked for at least the next three months. Thank you, Joonie,” you say, squeezing his arm.

“Anytime, Y/N,” he replies quietly, pulling you closer to him so he can kiss your forehead. It only hits you both when your hand is rubbing at his back in his embrace, and it takes even longer to break away than it did to realize the situation. 

Something shifts in Namjoon’s gaze when he sees you emerge from the bathroom in new pyjama shorts. “Cute PJ’s. I’m not used to seeing them on you for more than five seconds.”

“Enjoy the show, then,” you quip, plopping down next to him on the couch and extending your legs over his lap. You hadn’t really meant it as a command, but can’t help but smile catching the fact that Namjoon had obeyed. His fingers draw mindless circles at your ankles as his gaze travels upwards. Minutes are spent in silence, eyeing your thighs with intent before his eyes rest on your exposed clavicle. His circles stop, gripping your ankle and noting the undeniable rise and fall of your breathing and breasts, swollen and tender against your thin cotton tank top.

“Oh,” he finally says with a cough, breaking the silence and raising his brows. “I almost forgot. I thought you might need these.”

Leaning forward, Namjoon dumps the entire contents of the second plastic bag onto your hard coffee table. Small, colorful circles bounce off of it and onto the floor, long bars land with a thud, and instantly recognizable plastic packages are cushioned by its contents.

“Oh, Joon. I do. I do fucking need this,” you let out, almost as a moan. “You already know what I want.”

Smiling, he tears open a plastic packet of your favorite chocolate-flavored bread and another for himself. The time spent biting and savoring the pillowy snack was heavenly in the comfortable silence -save for the birds that begin to chirp from somewhere outside your window.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten the sticker,” you say, handing Namjoon the tiny square envelope in your now-empty plastic packaging. He’s quick to grab it from your hands, giddy to see whatever Pokemon character was inside.

"Take mine, too," he says, handing you his square, with an illustration of a pink, deer-like creature - not at all like the Pokemon he usually mentioned.

"Oh, she’s pretty!”

"Exactly..." he says. "Deerling, that's her name. She's a new favorite of mine, actually. Her colors change based on the different seasons in the year... and when she evolves, her deer form's antlers are basically how branches are decorated in nature: budding flowers and leaves for spring, greenery for summer, you get the picture. She's the only one that truly encapsulates the beauty of our world..."

"All that for a Pokemon? I'm jealous," you tease, but he doesn't laugh, quietly opening the envelope you'd handed to him.

“Yes!” he cheers. “I don’t have this one yet - Moltres. Ah, you really are my good luck charm, huh?"

"Am I? I guess you should keep me around, then, huh?" you say, leaning back on the couch and poking his shoulder.

"That's the plan," Namjoon says, his eyes still thoughtfully fixated on the sticker he fiddled with, but only for a moment. “Uhm… I… we… should probably get some sleep, huh? I should probably…go. Uhm, should I?”

“Do you want to go?” you ask, feeling a tightening in your chest at the thought. Just like all those nights in bed, it was too comfortable to remember that this wasn't your entire reality but stolen, secret time. Always, one found themselves reminding the other to snap back to reality. It was beautifully torturous, just as you two had liked it for so long… until it began to sink in that the beauty could stand on its own…. if only one of you had the courage. 

“….No. No I don’t really want to go, Y/N. But if you want me to….” 

“I don’t want you to,” you interrupt, nudging his fingertip with yours right over your knees until your hands are intertwined. “I mean someone has to help me fit that stupid sheet onto the bed... and you're quite familiar with my sheets."

“I am,” he smiles, nodding to himself and squeezing your hand with his.

“Then we can get in… and just go to sleep… or cuddle,” you wonder, feeling Namjoon's soft hand under yours.

“Like couples do?” Namjoon asks, finally meeting your gaze for the first time that night.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m thinking like couples do,” you whisper, your breath hitching on the words that spoke your once unthinkable, far-fetched desire while looking at it right in the eyes. 

“Me too,” he smiles, bringing your hand up to kiss it and rest it at his dimples. “Like couples it is then.”

[rumbelleshowdown]

-

Author: apple jacks Group: C Prompts: Size matters. She doesn’t “like” you! Sunset.

-

Paint It Black

Gold hadn’t offered her dinner.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought of it. But considering the amount of time she was already going to be spending with him, he thought it best to limit their contact where he could. Assuming she’d have even taken him up on the offer. Which she wouldn’t have, obviously.

Besides, he was having a hard time finding his appetite as it was.

He had decided on a nice herbal tea with a finger or two of his good scotch when he heard the doorbell ring. Opening the door revealed none other than Belle French.

The setting sun was at her back, the soft dying light giving her a soft glow as it washed against his porch. The natural red highlights of her hair were just on the side of golden, and with her sensible blouse and cardigan, she resembled something not unlike how he imagined guardian angels.

“We agreed on nine o’clock,” he said by way of greeting.

“Have you had dinner?”

So prepared he was for I’ve changed my mind, the deal is off that it took him an extra second to parse her question.

“I was just about to throw something together,” he lied.

“Good. I haven’t eaten yet, either.” Belle took a step towards him, and he stepped back automatically. Before Gold could say anything, she’d breezed past him, as if forcing herself into his home was something she did every day.

He looked around his foyer, looking for any instructions on how to proceed. Not for the first time, he wondered if asking Belle for help with this particular problem had been the smartest thing to do.

“I made spaghetti.” She’d found her way to the kitchen, unloading one of her bags on his counter. The other one was on the floor by the door, and he assumed it held her overnight things. “I also brought muffins for breakfast. They’re from the supermarket, so don’t get too excited. Where are your plates?”

The spaghetti was in a plastic container, open now and ready to be portioned out and reheated. Next to the lid was a foil bag that Gold recognized as the garlic bread from the grocery’s inhouse bakery. And there was Belle French, standing in his kitchen with an open and expectant look on her face, like she’d been invited. Like she wanted to be there with him, and hadn’t been coerced into it with the promise of a much needed reprieve for her father’s flower shop.

She didn’t like him. He’d do well to remember that.

“Miss French—”

“Belle. I insist,” she said when he opened his mouth to refuse. “We’re going to be sleeping together. We should be on a first name basis.”

“We are not—”

“We literally are,” she said, interrupting him again.

He ran a hand down his face, feeling every minute of the last week. How on Earth was he going to survive the night with her, let alone the next ten nights he’d dealt for?

“We agreed on nine o’clock.”

The woman seemed to finally take pity on him. “I just want to talk.” She opened the bag containing the garlic bread. 

“I’m pretty sure I made my expectations clear.”

“And what about my expectations?” Belle had given up on being directed to the proper cupboard, so she started opening the doors over the counter until she found his dishes.

“I’ve given my word you’ll remain unmolested. You have collateral should I—”

“I wouldn’t have agreed in the first place if I believed there was a chance of that.”

“Then what more could you want?”

“I want to know why. Why me, why now?” Proving victorious, Belle pulled out two plates from his cupboards. 

“You need the money,” he deflected, opening the drawer of the silverware and setting the kitchen table for two places; he wasn’t a complete beast to make her do all the work.

“So does Ruby. So do most people in town, actually,” she said as if he didn’t know.

He watched as she put the first plate into his microwave, and soon the electric hum was the only sound in the room. After the timer dinged, Belle placed the first plate on the table, complete with a side salad and the garlic bread. She gestured for him to sit while she reheated her own serving.

“I know you can be discreet,” he said finally.

For the first time since entering the kitchen, Belle looked at him. She considered his answer. “I do understand that you have an image to uphold. Word getting out that you suffer from nightmares would certainly do...something to it.”

Nightmare. 

It was too kind a word for the violent, paralyzing terror that dogged his sleep. It wasn’t a nightmare that pulled him from his bed, still sleeping, compelling him to pound on his walls until his hands bruised. It wasn’t a nightmare that had him pacing madly up and down his halls, wrenching his ankle again and again, the pain deeper than bone when he finally awoke.

“The townsfolk already compare you to Scrooge,” Belle said as she sat across from him with her plate. “Knowing about this might be a bit too much.”

 “Scrooge didn’t ask for help fending off his ghosts,” Gold muttered.

“Scrooge didn’t know his ghosts were coming.” She looked pensive. “What ghosts are haunting you, Mr. Gold?”

The scrape of his chair against the tile was loud. He pushed away from the table and his half-eaten dinner.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have work to finish up in my study. Feel free to show yourself around. Thank you for dinner.”

“Wait—I didn’t—”

But Gold was already gone, out of the kitchen and down the hall. Away from her. 

He wasn’t sure how long he was hiding in his study when he heard the soft knock.

“Come in,” he said, looking up only as the door opened.

“I’m sorry,” Belle said without preamble. She hadn’t come further into the room, but she wasn’t hiding behind the door frame. “I overstepped, and I shouldn’t have. I just don’t understand why I’m here.”

For the first time that night, perhaps the first time in their whole acquaintance, Belle looked unsure of herself.

“I want to help you, Mr. Gold.”

“Elias.” He owed her that much. Belle was right: if they were going to sleep together, she should have his name.

“Elias,” she said, saying his name slowly. “I’ve already agreed to the terms you’ve laid out. I showed up, didn’t I?”

Gold sighed. He just wanted this month over and done with. The truth was the enormity of his fear was becoming too much for him. Size mattered, and it was too much. Too big. Going without sleep for the few weeks he was affected was out of the question, and sleeping pills didn’t work, only bringing the terrors back in full force once he stopped taking them.

“I can’t be alone,” he said. “We need to share the bed.” He’d learned that from experience.

“So you mentioned. That’s fine.”

“I can sleep over the sheets, if that’s more comfortable for you.”

“But that would make you uncomfortable, wouldn’t it? That’s kind of exactly the opposite of why I’m here.”

“I can get you separate blankets then—"

“I’ve just told you I agree to the terms.”

“It feels a lot to ask of you.”

“Maybe.” She shrugged. “It’s not more than I’m willing to do.”

Gold sighed again. It was nearing the usual time he turned in.

“So.” Belle said, before he could get his courage up to suggest they retire. She took a brave step into his study.

“So?”

“We’ve established why me. So, why now?”

Gold made a noise in his throat. “This is an ailment I face every September.”

Belle tilted her head to the side. “Like an anniversary?”

“Aye. That of my son’s death.”

-

[tzigone]

Headcanon reboot - super tech for the masses

So one of the aspects of my headcanon reboot is that it kinds ends - people age and retire, we don't have to keep villains in play (the reformed ones stay reformed) and so on. And one thing I started playing with is that this world doesn't have to stay like our world. I completely understand why it does in the comics, and I do think it a good business decision, but this is just for fun, not money, so I can make characters do logical things.

So, when someone invents a potentially world-changing and fortune-making technology, it can actually be mass-produced, used by ordinary people, and change the world. Instead of being confined to heroes and villains with no proper reason given (because it would make the world our heroes operate in unrecognizable and be a barrier to entry for new readers).

Please do forgive me if I've misremembered the details on how these techs work. Or if they've been given multiple explanations, chime in with others.

Chronologically, the first one I have on my list is Ray Palmer/The Atom's tech (shrinking things or people and with the ability to alter mass while in shrunken state). This would be circa 2001. Originally he was thinking about how, with everything shrunk, farmers could grow more and freight trains transport more. But the tech only worked on him, so he wasn't ready to publish. But later, he did manage to get it work on others...and still never published or put it out in the world. At least, he unshrunk the Hawks. It's been a long time since I read it. Hope I'm not misremembering the details and that wasn't another "it only works this one time" sort of thing.

In this universe, he will. He's still a graduate student, so I guess we know what his thesis is. I'm undecided on whether to make the lens still made from white dwarf star (which makes no sense) or make it regular lens inspired by the idea of a white dwarf star (which also makes no sense, but lends itself to the mass use he was thinking about, since material for the lens would be available). A lens (that he crafted himself, so the precision shouldn't be an issue), a control panel, and an ultraviolet light - doesn't like it should be too expensive to manufacture (though end-user price may still be very high at first depending on supply and demand). I was modeling IP treatment after Yale's for compensation, but I don't really know how universities deal with tech patents like that - sell or license the patent and would licenses be exclusive? Anyway, he'll have a hell of thesis. But the rest of the comments on him are only relevant if the tech goes mainstream. Then he started traveling through phone lines. That has even more massive implications for goods transport (I haven't really put any thought into the agriculture, I admit - just transport). But it's not going to happen overnight. I would expect massive regulatory hurdles. Safety tests (both on goods shrunk and people). And if they use phone travel, there's other safety issues to be addressed. Do they use the same phone network? What about infrastructure improvement? Obviously some countries will move more quickly than others and some will be more likely to respect the patent than others. The mid and long-term effects as the tech actually goes mainstream - takes time for factories to be built or modified but it will happen. I could still see lots of loading and unloading jobs, of course. Eventually expect your Walmart's to have their own and get things shipped to them that way. Businesses like gas stations may still be getting last mile delivery of chips, but the number of truckers should go down a lot, so there's unemployment in that field. Not mention trains and shipping companies and ports. Recession time? Some countries even heavily hit. Job rearrangement from things it's more profitable to outsource now that shipping is so quick and cheap. This could really impact commuting. Many people love cities for the entertainment, etc. But then you have the folks with hour and half commutes from the suburbs. It may not be affordable to the average person to own their own for a long time (so they can dial a phone, shrink, then their desk phone auto-answers and they unshrink and thus have a 30-second commute), but bus-depot like places could allow someone in Lawrence, KS to park their car (pay a parking fee), shrink and transport the location a 5-minute walk from their work in Manhattan instead of having a more expensive home closer by. I find decoupling employment location from living location interesting (and often discussed in regards to remote work), but I'm not sure how much it'd happen. More useful for long trips than short ones, of course. We have to think about security implications (especially if used internationally). Gotta check passports, go through customs, etc. Could someone send a bomb via phone line? This is pretty fantastical tech to start with, but with the ability to not decrease mass, would it still have full explosive power - I really don't know how various bombs work.

Next up is Karen Beecher/Bumblebee in 2003. I am not using her shrinking, as I think it makes to much like Wasp. But from one of the guides, it was said the antennae of her costume were solar panels and that's what allowed her to user her mechanical wings and fly. That kind of solar panel and battery would make massive, massive impacts (I'm assuming it's easy to scale up/down). And quite likely move though regulation way more quickly than Ray's tech. Solar panels and batteries already exist. Now, like so many comic heroes (and villains), she's a genius, but she's still just a teenager (and not a wealthy one) when she builds it, so it should be very affordable to produce (possibly only a couple thousand dollars retail for car-size setup once competition is in place). She was on the Teen Titans with Roy, and Ollie is all for the environment, so Queen will be the first company introduced to her tech, and the first to license it. Non-exclusive licenses all the way (which Ollie is happy with and spreading the news himself, as it suits his personality). The solar panels are great for houses and cars and factories, but the batteries should end up all over the place - cell phones, children's toys, remote controls, etc. It'll take to time to get production chains in place, but she's going to be a billionaire very quickly. Geolpolitical consequnces are again rampant - based on who produces oil, who refines oil, who has the contracts for mining the material, where production factories are, etc.

Flash has some genuisy rogues who reformed (fora while) and they come later. As this universe doesn't have to keep them in play, I'm not flip-flopping them - if they reform, they reform. So I may have Captain Cold and The Trickster in play. The Trickster has anti-grav tech. I'm not sure how much planes are still in play, but it's a thought. Might be moving furniture around. Finally have flying cars (with regulations/mechanical restrictions that people will try to get around)? Now, Cold had freeze gun. A nice safe one that has no negative consequences. Good for home protection, since it doesn't really matter if you accidentally shoot your kid. And could you just have the ambulance arrive, freeze the patient and transport them to a hospital? That would effect EMT jobs. I'm not going to have the gun do some the wackier stuff (like de-aging someone - wow what a tech to to introduce).

[thefirstknife]

It's starting to feel like there's an implicit understanding in the community that complaining about the game is one of the main ways to engage with it, and maybe is something newer players pick up as part of the 'haha even diehard destiny players hate destiny' narrative. =\

Im happy to see the playerbase growing, but dang, I wish there'd be a bit less of 'if you love this thing you'll be passionate about criticizing it' among some of the big personalities

Yeah. Destiny always had that whole joke like "The one thing Destiny players hate the most is Destiny." I never understood it. When I mildly disliked Destiny, I stopped playing. Genuinely cannnot fathom playing a game religiously while hating it. Mindboggling. I'm also somewhat salty that a lot of people "criticising the story" and latching onto this whole vibe have never actually been fans of the story or have never really paid attention to it.

Like, it feels somewhat strange to me that suddenly every single content creator, including those that were openly NEVER into the lore and even content creators who literally only play pvp and those that openly play with voicelines and subtitles off, are suddenly great experts on how this story apparently sucks. And of course followed by a million of their fans who have until yesterday only ever cared about meta weapons for Trials, but have overnight become lore masters who understand that the story was "bad."

I know people who ARE into lore and who had issues. I also know that there's a lot of new players who were probably utterly confused, though that's to be expected when you tune into the 9th year of the franchise. I'm totally fine with that and respect people who have a different view of the campaign and how it felt to them. And of course if any new players are super confused and have no idea where to start learning more... I sympathise. Greatly. And I'm happy to help! Obviously a lot of what people are discussing right now is really complicated and draws from super specific lore that might not be easy for a new player to understand right away. It will take some time and that's okay!

But when I see the amount of people blasting the story, I'm left thinking... Really? There were so many lore enjoyers out there all this time? You're telling me that twitter user xxTrialsHunterMain69420xx understands the problems with the narrative and can talk with authority on obscure lore references and how Bungie fucked them up? This is absolutely news to me, as most players have been dissing the story for years and if they weren't dissing, they just weren't engaging with it at all.

Obviously every player has a right to say how they felt playing and how they vibed with the campaign and if they didn't vibe with it, that's fine. They didn't vibe with a lot of campaigns that I would die for, like for example Shadowkeep. But there's a distinct feeling like a lot of these people are just latching onto the hate train for no real justifiable reason of their own. Like, it's popular to shit on the campaign now and people will do it to fit in, even if they personally have never ever had any stakes in what Destiny's story is about.

They've been given not only permission, but encouragement to blast the campaign over something they barely understand and something that a lot of people reacted to out of their basic impulses. And I get it because my basic impulse was negative too. I feel like maybe a huge personality who influences the entire community shouldn't post the first thought that comes to their mind uncritically to social media. Or at least that they should feel like they can change their mind and correct that later. I feel like a lot of them would never do that now because it would mean alienating their audience. "Oh yeah I told you all that this sucks, but actually no it doesn't, just listen." Yeah, not going to happen. Not to mention that outrage brings clicks.

And of course, now the whole discourse has been completely ruined by the outrage so it's incredibly hard to find and filter who actually has decent feedback and who is just riding the hate train. Frustrating and draining.

[bunny-heels]

Considering we're pretty much at the climax of Holiday season... I was wondering how you think Casey would feel about Christmas/the Holidays. I feel like he'd probably be pretty uncaring about it all. But all that changed after he became close to Saga? He of course can come off as aloof but he'd be excited to find something Logan would like especially. And he'd feel out of sorts when presented gifts of his own? He's just not used to real, genuine thoughtful gifts lol.

part of me feels like he used to love the holidays in his child and teen years. it slowly faded when he became an adult, came back when he was with Miranda, then completely left after the divorce. but of course, it all changed when he got close with Saga.

i think as a child and teen, he loved the joy centered around Christmas, even if maybe he didn't have that great of an upbringing, but he sorta lost the magic for it after becoming an adult. not because he hated it or anything, just that he was focusing on trying to get to a good point in his life. his love for it came back when he married Miranda, and would help decorate the house and tree, and always buy her gifts that he thought she would like, even near the end of the relationship.

after the divorce, he barely cared about any holiday. not Christmas, or Halloween, or Thanksgiving-none of those. he treated them as just ordinary days with no particular reason as to why they were important.

after getting close with Saga and learning about his feelings towards the holidays, she tried her best to slowly get him to enjoy it again. she brought him tiny things to decorate his desk at work with, gave him some Christmas snacks, shared some pretty whiskey-spiked eggnog with him. she eventually was able to get him to visit their home, and even offered for him to stay overnight for Christmas morning, which he surprisingly agreed to. [Saga didnt have to pull a pouty face or anything!! that was a new record for her]

on Christmas morning, after Logan was finished opening her gifts, the adults were next. Saga and David opened the gifts from each other, then the gifts they each got from Logan. Casey was happy just watching them open their gifts, not expecting to get anything since it was their house. so he was fully taken aback when all three of them pulled out gifts for him, each being something that was guaranteed to fit Casey perfectly, picked with the help of Saga's "intuition."

he barely knew how to react. he was obviously happy, and very flustered, but he also seemed embarrassed for an unknown reason. they hadn't known why until he excused himself out of the house for a moment, and suddenly, he came back in with presents for each of them as well. he took as careful of note as he could to pick items he thought they would like. and they all loved them and thanked him endlessly.

he admitted to Saga later that day that he figured she would try to get him to enjoy the holidays, and even if there was no solid answer if he would, he would've felt guilty for at least not getting something for the three of them. he thanked Saga for coaxing him out of his shell and getting him to enjoy Christmas with someone again. and Saga went and thanked Casey for giving her a chance to help him have fun, and how happy she was of growing so close with him so fast. Saga couldn't help but ask for a hug, and Casey really couldn't refuse her, not that he wanted to.

since then he's started to thoroughly enjoy holidays again, even decorating his own house and inviting Saga's family over for Christmas and even Thanksgiving dinners, even having his own tree up to put gifts under for them to open when they visit.

he's also stayed up late with Saga and David and gotten drunk with them MANY times, often getting themselves into laughing fits and sharing work and life stories. Casey gets surprisingly touchy when he's drunk, so he would also either lean on Saga of David's shoulder, probably wearing a Santa hat and having a dumb smile on his face while he listens to them talk about past Christmas stories.

oh, and like i said, he now enjoys other Holidays too. he'll set up Thanksgiving dinner some years at his house to invite the family over, or help with preparing their dinner when he visits them instead, and eats himself sleepy. and on Halloween, he'll decorate his own house but will only get in costume when at the family house. he's always mostly this dark lord figure, like a vampire king or half-human monster man. there was one year he was lazy so Saga just put him in floppy dog ears. every time they hit him in the face she held in her laugh, so much so to where she was in tears.

[stargazer-sims]

Victor - car accident

This one got a bit long @dandylion240. Obviously, I'm not very good at keeping this stuff to "drabble" size, but I hope you like it anyway. And you can probably see now, how this is going to be a jumping-off point for something even longer eventually.

__________

A car accident changed Victor Nelson's life. Twice.

The first time, he was six and a half years old. At ten o'clock in the morning on what had been an otherwise normal Wednesday, an impaired driver had struck and killed his father and sister while they were innocently crossing the street after leaving the doctor's office.

Victor was in school when he found out. He'd been sitting in class, thinking about lunch break and about how he was going to make the best birthday card ever for his mom during art time that afternoon.

At breakfast, Dad had said it was a special birthday for Mom because she was turning thirty-one, on the thirty-first of May. Victor was slightly disappointed that he'd already had that special kind of birthday and couldn't even remember it. His birthday is the second of December, and he'd turned two a really long time ago. But then he brightened again, remembering that his baby sister Caroline would be turning three that summer, on the third of July.

He was happily occupied inside his own head when the vice-principal appeared in the doorway of the classroom. She spoke quietly to Victor's teacher for a minute, and then his teacher turned back to face the class and said, "Victor, can you come up here, please?"

Behind him, his friends Jacob and Davian were giggling, and Jacob poked him in the back of his shoulder with something. Next to him, his cousin Leo whispered, "Ooh, Victor... you're in big trouble!"

He was in big trouble, but not the kind his friends imagined. It was the kind of trouble that was far too big for a six year old to handle, and it completely shattered his world.

It had taken years for him to come to terms with the deaths of his father and sister, with the crushing pain of loss, the fear of being abandoned, and the all-consuming grief. Finally, with the proper help, he was able to let go of everything but the best memories, and he could allow himself to move on.

Now, he's thirty-six years old, married, a former world-class athlete, and a qualified paediatric nurse. A grown up man, as his mom likes to say. But, if he's learned anything in his life, it's that being a grownup doesn't make anyone immune to feeling sad, angry or afraid.

Just over a month ago, he'd felt all of those things so suddenly and intensely that he'd had to excuse himself from his duties for several minutes and lock himself in a staff washroom where he could release everything in a hot flood of tears.

May twenty-third. That was the day of the second car accident that changed his life. He personally didn't find out about it until the following morning, but that didn't prevent the date of the event from being etched permanently on his mind.

The twenty-fourth of May started typically enough. He was on the early shift that week and began his work day at seven in the morning. The early shift is his favourite. It's the busiest, and there's never a shortage of things to be done.

Just like on any other morning, his first stop was the nurses' station, where he and his colleagues got a hand-off from the overnight nursing staff. He expected the usual rundown of information and updates on the patients assigned to him, but when the first words out of his overnight shift counterpart were, "Victor, Laila wants to see you as soon as possible," he knew his day was going to take a turn.

Laila Alhadi is the paediatric nursing supervisor and Victor's boss. The younger nurses call her their 'work mom' because she treats everyone like they're family. Victor adores her. As bosses go, he knows he couldn't have asked for a better one than Laila.

After hand-off, he went to look for Laila, to see what she wanted. He found her standing just outside the door of a patient's room, deep in conversation with Dr. Abbie Reid-Mayfield, one of the paediatricians. Dr. Reid-Mayfield looked worried, and that unsettled Victor a bit because she was usually calm and unflappable no matter what was going on. It was the other paediatrician, Dr. Park Seung-Ri, who wore his heart on his sleeve. If Dr. Park looked upset it probably wasn't much cause for alarm, but a concerned looking Dr. Reid-Mayfield was not a good sign.

"Oh, there you are, Victor. Good." Laila beckoned him over the instant she made eye contact with him. "Dr. Reid-Mayfield has a special assignment for you."

He frowned. "A special assignment?"

"The ER staff transferred a patient up here last night who doesn't seem to speak English or French," Dr. Reid-Mayfield said. "She can speak, but we don't know what language it is. Dr. Park thinks it's Japanese, but he says his Japanese is too limited to be certain, and he suggested you might be able to help."

"You speak Japanese at home, don't you?" Laila added.

"About half the time," he said. "It's my husband's first language, and I don't want to lose my skills."

The doctor nodded. "Good. Let me fill you in on what we know about the patient, and then you can meet her."

The patient, Dr. Reid-Mayfield told him, was between five and seven years old as far as they could tell, of East Asian origin, and had albinism; a condition that affected the pigment in her skin, eyes and hair, and caused her to be legally blind. The doctor said that according to the police, the child was a passenger in a car which had been struck by a truck that ran a red light. The truck had collided with the driver's side of the car. The driver was fatally injured and later died in the emergency room but the child, who'd been sitting in the back seat on the passenger's side, sustained only bruises and a broken arm.

"They think the driver of the truck was under the influence," Laila said.

Victor felt his stomach drop. He didn't quite know how to respond, and blurted out the first question that popped into his shocked brain. "What's her name?"

"We don't know," said Dr. Reid-Mayfield. "The driver's name was Nakamura something or other, according to his driver's license. The police think he was the child's father, so we're assuming that's her family name as well, but we're not sure. Dr. Brightman down in the ER was calling her Caroline, so that's what we're calling her too, for now."

Victor might've been able to hold it together, if it hadn't been for that particular detail. He excused himself with a vague, "I, uh... I need a minute."

A few minutes later, when Laila knocked on the door of the staff washroom and called out to check on him, he came out still wiping his eyes with a piece of paper towel. He apologized, and then in a jumble of words that he figured barely made sense, he told Laila about his sister. She listened to everything without interruption.

Regardless of whether it was proper workplace conduct or not, when he was done talking, Laila hugged him and reassured him that everything would be okay. He'd do fine with his new patient, and she'd be there to support him whenever he needed it.

Laila was right, he reflects now, as he stands beside Caroline's bed and studies her for a moment while she sleeps. Everything was fine, or as fine as anyone could reasonably expect, given the circumstances.

He learned that the little girl's first language is indeed Japanese, and that her name is Sayuri Nakamura, and she's six years old. He still calls her Caroline, though, because when he asked her if she preferred to be called Sayuri, she said no, "'Cause Sayuri saw bad stuff happen and she was too scared, but I think Caroline could be more brave."

Victor wonders if he would've opted to be called by a different name after his father died, if he'd been given the chance. Little Victor had experienced bad stuff too, and he'd been scared. Maybe an alter ego would've helped him feel more brave.

He admires Caroline's courage, her intelligence and resourcefulness. She's just a little kid, and she's lost even more than he did at her age, and she's definitely facing bigger challenges than he had to. Despite that, however, she gives every impression of being a survivor, a small warrior in a battle she may not even realize is too large for her to fight alone.

But, she's not alone, he reminds himself. She's got me.

He's not consciously aware of when he came to that realization, but he knows it to be unequivocally true.

He and Caroline have bonded over the course of the past month, in a way that utterly flies in the face of the concept of professional detachment his instructors in nursing school were so fond of reinforcing. But no one seems to fault him for it, not even Dr. Reid-Mayfield, from whom he'd expected the most opposition. In fact, everyone seems to be encouraging him, praising him, and complimenting him on his own selflessness and courage.

As he lingers there, he doesn't so much hear another person enter the room as he feels the presence of them. He knows it's Laila even before he turns to see her. The warm scent of spices seems to follow her everywhere. It's foreign and yet familiar, and he finds it oddly comforting.

"Aren't you supposed to be off shift, Victor?" Laila says.

He glances at his watch, and then up at his supervisor. She looks tired, and her hijab is slightly askew, but she's smiling. He smiles in return. "Yeah. Ten minutes ago, officially. Aren't you supposed to be off shift too?"

"Ten minutes ago, but I had to answer a couple of emails."

"Oh?" he says. She wouldn't be mentioning that if it wasn't important.

"Child welfare social worker," says Laila. "Some guy named Fox Abbottsford. Dr. Reid-Mayfield copied me on her correspondence with him."

Victor laughs. "I don't think I've ever heard Fox referred to as 'some guy' before. What's up with him?"

"He says you know each other, and he told Dr. Reid-Mayfield that he'll have to transfer Caroline's case to another worker if you're serious about going ahead with the home study. Conflict of interest, you know."

"I know," Victor says. "Fox and I have known each other for a long time. Yuri and Fox's husband Takahiro grew up together."

"I see," Laila nods. "Anyway, I guess Community Services has a proposed date to do your home study, if you still want to go ahead with it, and now it's like everybody needs to know whether or not you've made a decision and they need to know it yesterday."

Victor is quiet for several seconds before he finally answers, "I'm going ahead with it. Yuri and I discussed it, and he agreed that we can do it." He pauses again, and then adds softly, "But... I guess you know I already made up my mind long before now."

Laila rests her hand on his arm. "Perhaps even before you did. I think I knew when I found you crying in the bathroom."

"Love at first sight isn't really a thing, right?"

"Maybe for parents it is."

Parents. The word hits him hard. It's the first time anyone has used it in a direct reference to him. He and Yuri will only be foster parents, but still... The enormity of it has just barely begun to sink in, and he's already feeling overwhelmed.

"She deserves to be safe and to have a chance to be happy," he says. "I might not have much to offer, but I know I can offer her that."

"Don't sell yourself short," Laila admonishes him gently. "You have everything to offer. This child needs someone who can understand and help her. She needs someone to love her, and I know you can do that."

He fights the tears that threaten to imminently spill over. "I do love her. I don't know how or why, but... I do. Thinking about the responsibility is terrifying, but like.. I can't not do it. Does that even make sense?"

"It does." Laila gives his forearm a light, assuring squeeze. "It sounds exactly like what every other new parent feels."

"What if I'm not good at it, Laila? Parenting, I mean. What if I mess up?"

"Nobody's perfect at it," Laila says. "But, don't worry. You're going to have plenty of help, and you've got great caretaking instincts in any case. If you really want to know my opinion, I think you're going to be a wonderful father."

[neiviele]

I wrote this about a month ago when the "is tulpamancy ok" topic popped up and didn't get to post it. My thoughts are largely the same though, so might as well post them.

I don't think the experience of tulpamancy (forcing a headmate, imposing them, etc.) and creating a headmate is problematic, but I really think the community needs to stop ignoring the (imo, quite valid) concerns that keep on coming up with it.

Two concerns that keep on coming up, for me:

▪︎ Biases in the tulpamancy community. I've noticed that the tulpamancy community is picking and choosing who it wants to listen to, which makes me fairly uncomfortable. We can't determine who is and isn't a genuine Tibetan tulpamancer over the internet (at least not without prying into someone's personal life and heritage) and I think all voices from the area tulpamancy originates from/the religion matters when discussing these topics. You can't invalidate their religion or ethnicity based on their behavior or views in syscourse. (For example, I've seen some dismissed because they're upset about tulpamancy, and anger is not a Buddhist behavior to some, but I think it's more than valid to be angry over a perceived injustice!) For me, it's clear that there's at least contention over who can use the term, but most Eastern tulpamancers would want at the very least a name change.

I also don't think it's only bad faith anti-endos who like to bring this issue up, I've seen this concern brought up even by those practicing tulpamancy who have no issues with the community, back when tulpas were first attracting attention in 2014.

▪︎ Stigma around (and talking over) supernatural/Eastern Tulpamancy. I've seen Western tulpamancers speak over tulpamancers intending to practice the original form of tulpamancy, dismissing their beliefs despite their culture being the origin of the word and those beliefs. When an Eastern tulpamancer searches for other tulpamancers they expect to find other tulpamancers who at least respect their views, not get dismissed for their beliefs. I've also seen Western tulpamancers/tulpas get offended over supernatural tulpas despite these tulpas having no link to the Western tulpamancy community. You can't use someone else's term and then get upset that someone associates you with the supernatural elements of that term.

(This is enough reason for me to agree that tulpamancy shouldn't be the term the community uses. Regardless of whether the term was willingly shared or not, you can't talk over people involved in the original practice, and if it's continuously happening and you're even getting offended over being associated with it, maybe something needs to change?)

Obviously the term can't be completely changed now since it's what most people know it by, but I think encouraging a collective community synonym would be helpful. Some already exist: parogenic, willogenic, alinome, etc. Reddit, Tumblr, and other social media platforms won't be around forever. The community is still in its infancy, historically speaking. Resources don't have to change overnight, but over time people would come to know tulpamancy by the new term.

(I'm not a tulpamancer, but changing terminology is not something the rest of the plural spectrum has no experience with. Other communities and groups have successfully done this before. DID/OSDD used to be MPD and DDNOS, plurality used to be called multiplicity, endogenic used to be called natural multiplicity. It's not an impossible task.)

[kolbietheaggrievedwriter]

Someone has written their own take on a BrOC (which you should check out!), and it reminded me of my first iteration of jumpstart, where I initially thrust our OC into Bro eight years before canon. I prefer the current plot, especially bc I absolutely do not know how to write a 5 year old. But it's a fun little idea.

-

You allow your head to thunk onto the counter. The pain barely registers through your panic. You've been denying the possibility the moment you woke up and discovered that you had switched both locations and bodies overnight, but it's been half an hour. Nothing's changed. It's not a dream. Your name is (probably) Dirk Strider, and you are absolutely, undeniably fucked.

"Bro?" And that's a kid calling out to you, jesus christ.

You don't want to look up. You don't want to acknowledge the reality of your situation. But there's a kid involved, and you could never put your own discomfort above the wellbeing of a child. Besides, you have a pretty good idea who that kid is, and he definitely doesn't deserve to have his (probable) guardian ignore him.

You lift your head and get your first good look at the real life version of Dave motherfucking Strider. He's tiny, is your first thought. Itty bitty. He can't be older than four or five. He's also wearing tiny duplicates of the cringe shades you haven't had the courage to actually put on your face without dying of embarrassment, and he's fucking adorable. What the hell. Why can a kid pull off those dumbass shades better than you?

Probably because kids can make anything look cute, but a grown ass man would just look like some weeaboo dipshit.

"Sup, li'l man," is what comes out when you open your mouth to answer him. What the fuck. Is Bro, like…still inside you? Well, he can just get fucked then. You're in charge now. 

Dave approaches you slowly, cautiously, like he's going to get in trouble if he gets too close. "Sup," he says, pushing his shades back up when they slide down. 

"How old are you now?" You ask, monotone, which is weird as fuck because you're not particularly trying to not emote, but you figure this body has been programmed to do this shit for, what - twenty something years now? People say habits are hard to break for a reason. 

Dave apparently doesn't think anything of your question because he doesn't hesitate to answer. "I'm five," he says, drifting closer to you almost like he can't help himself, even despite his wariness. "It's my birthday," he adds, aiming for the same monotone shtick you've got going on but missing by a mile. He's obviously hoping for something, and you bet those big eyes are shining with fragile expectation behind the mini shades.

"Five," you say, contemplative, as an idea strikes. You're not going to abuse a small child, so sticking to the script is a no go. Might as well go completely off the rails and do things your way. "That's a big milestone for a li'l dude. Now that you've made it five whole years, I think it's about time you were officially designated as my li'l bro."

"Li'l bro?" Dave parrots, curious but trying not to seem so. The shades slip again. He pushes them back up.

"Yup. You're my bro now, so things between us are gonna change a bit. No more acting like we're too cool for school around each other, alright? That shit's for other people. We don't front in front of each other.  Striders stick together," you give him a bullshit explanation and hope he buys it. Otherwise, you're not sure how to explain your abrupt change in behavior. "You good with that?" You ask, making sure it's actually a question.

"I'm good," Dave says, though he looks confused. This is probably the most he's ever heard his "Bro" speak, and you are being pretty vague.

You turn, crouch, and open your arms. "First things first: hugs. Bros hug any time they feel like, but they get a special one on their birthday. It's tradition." Or it will be, anyway. Humans need physical affection and kids even more so. You, for your part, fucking love hugs. You're not about to let your kid (Oh fuck, he's your kid!!!) be deprived of such a pivotal human experience any longer.

Dave looks surprised, and he takes his sweet time walking over and getting up in your space, pausing every now and then like he's waiting for you to change your mind - or more likely, say it was a "test" and that Dave had failed or something. But you maintain your position, and your intent expression lets him know you are dead serious about this.

[etherfabric]

Hello! If your readings are still open may I get one about something good/a good change I should expect in the near future? I had a pretty tough time lately 😫.

Thank you sm for this opportunity and take good care of you 🥰answer whenever you have time.

Hi there, that's a great prompt for a reading. I will be using the Thoth Tarot and the Hermetic Tarot for you. These are the cards I got:

3 of Swords, 9 of Cups

The next good change in your life will involve cutting yourself off of someone or something that was stiffling your natural tendency towards authentic self expression. For the sake of superficial harmony, you were willing to put up with a lot, hoping for a resolve in the end.

This resolve will happen differently than you planned for, it will feel completely out of your hands and trigger wounds of powerlessness, but you will soon see that you couldn't have asked for a better turn of events, and it will show you where you do have power. It will be a stroke of luck in a weird costume. Something shaking up your daily routine will escalate and result in something suffocating no longer having its grip on you. This will lead to barriers being moved out of the way, barriers you thought of as immovable objects. The 3 of Swords present feels like that it will still evoke feelings of fear, sadness, anger, mostly because of how unforeseen changes used to mean danger in the past, so you will automatically associate A with B, but this is an encouragement to release those triggered emotions freely to gain a clear sight on what is actually happening.

You might interpret what is happening as bad luck, but with the 9 of Cups, a card of pleasure, contentment, wish fulfillment, overflow of resources - this will turn out to be a false diagnosis on your part. You are being blessed, again, in a weird way, weird optics, it won't necessarily be obviously good like winning the lottery or something.

This energy is quite peculiar, quite random and... I can't say "weird" again... so I want to give a little story as an example (just like a metaphor, I can't predict specifics, I only can read energies): It's like, you will be late to work because your phone ran an update overnight and somehow turned off the alarm, so you are already in a bad mood when you finally arrive at your job, and therefore don't greet anyone when you come in because you feel ashamed and scared that someone might yell at you for it or something. So this one person takes it very personal that you didn't greet them, and they get called into a meeting where they could have named you for a new position. But they don't, because they are pissed. You feel their mood and get scared even further. Later, they announce who out of the team gets promoted to that new project - you are not included.

First, you feel like a failure, maybe you need to have a cry on the toilet, but later you realize the person bullying you who is very close to the boss also got promoted to work on this new project, in a whole other city, because they will open up a new branch. So suddenly, you are looking towards a future with only the nice colleagues, and this new branch in another city also makes it necessary to have remote work in all places available, so now you can do home office for half of the week.

That kind of weird chain of events.

I hope this makes sense. I actually had a synchronicity happening while tapping into this energy, and I was *this* close to a panic attack when my partner told me about something, until I realized it was something really good that I actually had wanted for a long time, but it was like he said all the trigger words to convey it. Like there is no other way to say it, it has to be in this way. It's kinda mindfucky for a lack of a better word, but I did a few grounding techniques and could keep it at bay enough for the pleasant truth to reach me. Kinda like a mental obstacle course to a nice price at the end.

I hope this could be of some benefit, if you want clarification, you can send another Ask. This is a really interesting message I didn't anticipate with your prompt. Let me know how it resonates 🙏

[theninjasanctuary]

It's a bit sad how little I've managed to post in May and June, considering I've mostly been having a good time, and it would be good to recap that so I can remember later.

Threw myself a late birthday garden party towards the end of May, when the apple trees were still in bloom, the weather was lovely, as were my friends and fam who showed up, and we had nice food and a good time. This also served as summer garden party season prep, finding all the gear, dusting it off, etc. And so it was pretty easy to set up the solstice celebration garden party yesterday - pretty low-key, but sweet, with lovely weather and lots of blooming peonies. The ones I planted last August are not blooming yet this year, just gaining strength and hopefully growing strong roots in all the good soil, perhaps I can hope for a few blossoms next summer?

Thought to myself that the current year seems to be pretty good to me, all things considered. I'm making decent amounts of money, work is going okay-ish, and I'm not super-stressed about my prospects at the moment, Mom's doing okay, keeping busy, taking care of her place and enjoying life, and can cat-sit when we travel. I'm aware all of this might not last, I'm obviously in line to be the primary caretaker should Mom's health decline, and I cannot be too certain about my career outlook. And, well, apparently my big brother's marriage is in crisis and the drama might spill over even though they live in a different country, so who knows, might not have the peaceful second half of the year I hoped for.

The work trip to NYC and New Haven went kind of well. I didn't get sick, which alone is a massive upgrade compared to the last time I went to the US. The flight experience was so-so; picking a seat yourself is now ridiculously expensive (40+ €, do fuck off with that, Finnair), so I went with randomly assigned seat each direction, and of course they were in the middle 4-seat section of the cabin. On the flight over, had the middle row 4 seats all to myself, which wasn't too bad, but on the way back, the plane was pretty full, and I'd been placed into the extra legroom row in one of the middle seats, and after boarding was completed, a random dude made a beeline for the empty middle seat next to me because of the extra legroom, so then I was sandwiched between him and a hefty lady for the entirety of the flight; I was fuming internally, but also exhausted, and somehow managed to sleep for most of the nearly 9 hours. Another grumble about Finnair, they've cut the meal service so you get one meal for the transatlantic flight, and then a round of coffee or tea with an option of buying snacks - and the selection is really unappealing. On the way over, I had packed a couple of snacks, which helped. The leg back home left 11ish in the evening, and the served a warm meal at midnight NYC time or early morning destination time, and loads of people actually refused that, probably without realizing this would be the only meal on offer, because transatlantic overnight flights always used to serve breakfast before. I woke up enough to eat, although the food was less than impressive. It's a good thing we'd had a decent dinner at a Thai restaurant before leaving for the airport.

I had a work friend on the same flights, staying at the same hotel, which was even better than I expected, since it turns out he's a bit of an alpha dog when it comes to travelling, does his homework, knows exactly where to go, etc. Usually I have to do all of that, so having someone else lead the way was an interesting change. And he's chill, and a foodie, so it was nice to have someone to go to dinner with. We didn't hang out the entire time though. I shopped a little bit and very blandly (this is highly on brand), but mostly spent time diligently visiting art museums. Spent an entire day at the Met, but I think even so I only saw about 70% of their display, and that's with just walking through a lot of the rooms. Overall, more relaxed and less anxious than previous trips to the US have made me. The last time I'd been to NYC was 10 years ago, and it was stressful, with a work friend who I've since confirmed dislikes me, so it felt good to get a do-over with far less worries.

Stayed in three hotels; the NYC one was the smallest and most expensive, but clean, neat and fine, and very conveniently located, I'd gladly go back. At New Haven, the first two nights were at a four-star hotel, and they gave me an upgrade (I'm assuming they were overbooked for standard rooms and had to bump some people up; I'm cute, well spoken and take the trouble to sign up to memberships, which presumably helps). So I had a plush corner room with two walls of windows and a giant bed all to myself, it was bigger than the first apartment the boyf and I rented together. And I ordered room service one night, too, fish tacos with finger limes, I think it was the best thing I ate all trip and my mouth waters just thinking about it. Had to move hotels for the final night to a three-star one, and that was a standard room, but also rather nice. My body was trying to sabotage the entire thing by rescheduling my period, and I actually managed to leak through a tampon & Uniqlo period panties whilst sleeping there - not much, and it was on the sheets, not mattress or duvet, so I had to do some very-early-morning, half-asleep emergency washing in the sink, but hey, an anxious overpacker like me had brought a tiny bottle of stain remover that's very effective against blood stains (it's been in my travel bathroom kit just in case for a while). So that was another example of a dreaded thing actually happening to me, and managing to deal with it and move on.

All three hotels had flattering bathroom mirrors. And then I came home and weighed myself and set a new record. OTL

And it would be nice to get the expenses paid on location refunded to me ASAP (submitting all the paperwork was a hassle, but I hope everything is acceptable).

[emma-radfemcanu]

I really need to change this tag to 'being sad about tennis' because that's what it is 🙃 under 'keep reading' bc no one cares (I wish I didn't care this much fr) but it makes me feel better to write it down

This year's French Open is on paper one of the most open in years- Nadal is toast, Djok is flopping hugely (he actually withdrew before the QFs due to a knee issue and I really think this is it for him now, obviously he's not going away overnight but he's no longer the threat he was), and there was a bit of a question mark over the level of Alcaraz and Sinner who have been mildly injured and haven't played a huge amount on clay this year... but they are in the SFs against each other so seem to be fine

And of course Stef got stuck in Alcaraz' quarter of the draw, literally anywhere else would have been better- the most open draw in years and he gets the one player he just cannot beat 😢 he's now 0-6 against him, it's partly mental (and is only going to get worse) but mostly because Alcaraz is just a horrible matchup for him physically

Meanwhile, on the other side of the draw- Djok has withdrawn giving Casper a free ride to the semis (who he is bribing I have no idea but he always gets a pisstake of an easy draw, or whenever he gets a difficult one it completely collapses), and the other QF on this side is Alex de Minaur vs Zverev (who is still being allowed to play despite an ongoing domestic abuse trial??? It literally started last week??? but that is a whole other post in itself)

Overall Stef's clay season has been solid, I felt so optimistic after Monte Carlo and then he was done dirty by a terrible draw on what should have been a really good chance for him :( of course it's not actually unfair at all, it's quite literally the luck of the draw, I'm just feeling sore about it because I want him to win a slam SO BAD and I'm having to accept that it probably won't happen

I mean he's 25 not 95, he's so good on clay and Australia Stef is also a whole different beast, so maybe I shouldn't be so pessimistic. Going forward Alcaraz is 100% his biggest threat so I'm just going to have to pray that he's on the opposite side of draws and that someone else can get rid of him first. I wasn't really expecting Stef to win today but that hasn't made me feel any less upset about it

I'm just insanely frustrated by how unfair it feels even though it isn't. Insult to injury is that he is now out of the top 10 again- due to people like ADM and Hurkacz getting lucky with their draws and gaining a load of points on clay that they never would normally (this is also bitterness on my part but it's true) and even worse Sinner is now no1 and his already horrendous fanbase are going to get even more insufferable than they already are

Like I say, I know I shouldn't care this much and I wish I didn't. But I do 🙃 I'm going through it a bit emotionally at the moment anyway and as tragic as it sounds it really isn't an exaggeration to say that I'm heartbroken (and am crying while writing this)

[beddhead-red]

I feel like the biggest piece of advice I feel like everyone needs to hear is "don't let failure discourage you".

Like, yeah, that's an obvious thing, but it's not obvious how to actually implement it, or how not implementing it can affect you. One of the simplest ways i can explain this is fitness.

I know, this is somewhat controversial for a bevy of reasons, but if you want to be more physically fit, there's a lot of right ways, but there is one explicitly wrong way, in my opinion. Set up a shitload of expectations for yourself, that you're gonna shift overnight into a perfectly healthy lifestyle routine and break every single one of your bad habits instantly.

Obviously that's ridiculous, and yet people continue on thinking they can do it. Here's a little secret for you: change is incredibly difficult for most people in the best of circumstances. Even if you don't do exactly this and set a more realistic goal for yourself, people still fall into the real trap that always kills every single one of these fitness journeys immediately: seeking perfect, linear progress. That's not how people work. Progress is messy.

If you start a good, healthy lifestyle habit, and never deviate from it, that's awesome! But if you have a cheat day, or one day where you don't do quite as good as you want to, that's completely fine. And that's the important thing: even if you fail 9/10 of your fitness goals out of the gate, something is better than nothing. And just because you failed 9/10 doesn't mean you can't try them again.

People seem naturally averse to incremental change in almost everything they do, and I think that's incredibly cringe. Incremental change leads to substantial change over time. Compound interest and all that. A small improvement in anything is better than no improvement at all. If you do one push-up a day, maybe you'll eventually be able to do two. Find fruit you like, and maybe you'll be fine munching on that instead of candy, or something. Incremental change is better than no change at all, and it leads to much larger change with time.

And if you cheat, or you fail, whatever. Get back up and try again. Any time you spend improving yourself is necessarily progress, even if you lose it, because you are also learning from the experience of it. You are learning what works for you, and what doesn't.

You can always start again, even if you stop for a while, but it is much easier to keep going once you've started than it is to start again. Failing once doesn't mean you stop. Giving up after you fail does. Getting back up and continuing after you failed is how you build a habit.

And don't compare your small successes to others' huge ones--if someone transformed their body in a month while you're still mostly the same, whatever, dude. You're still improving. Progress is progress. You know yourself better than you know them. Don't lie to yourself that you've done nothing, because you can clearly tell you are doing something. Inevitably, if you keep making positive progress, you will see positive results. You can't hide from them forever.

That's how I've built my workout routines, that's how I've started eating healthier & cooking my own meals. There are a lot of other benefits that have come from that as well, though I obviously don't think they work for everyone. My point is though, when you identify what positive progress would look like and start working towards it, don't seek perfection. Don't sweat smaller, or even larger mistakes, in pursuit of your goal. The only way you really fail is if you give up.

But you can even come back from that much. You can always start again. You need no one's permission or prompting, but if you want someone to tell you, here's your sign: FUCKIN DO IT, BABY! JUST START, I DONT GIVE A SHIT WHAT IT IS, WHERE YOURE STARTING, OR HOW

This goes for a lot of things, actually! If you want to start other habits to improve yourself, like say being a kinder person, or emphasizing some other trait you want to have more of, or breaking a bad habit, it's the same thought process. If you fail once, get up and try again. Don't let failure discourage you! You're still learning, and you're still making progress.

If you make a mistake, admit it, own it, and keep working on it. That's the only way you will truly progress. You need to be honest with yourself if you want to actually improve, because you have to have an open mind to learn.

I'm meandering a bit in my general thought process here, but this is another thing that's just been on my mind lately that I thought some people could do with seeing. The journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step. The best time to plant a tree was yesterday, the second best time is today. Etc etc ad nauseum

[tigorrrr]

𝗗𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗯𝗹𝗲 || prompt::holding hands every chance they have

Ship(?): Nitara x Tomáš

Rated: fluff??

Warnings: slight Yandere behavior?, implied stalking, Skin-Deep AU

           Sareena had never expected her High School friend to be anything but a bitch of diva, neither does she believe in miraculous changes of people's personas overnight, but what the fuck is this?!

           Did someone hit Nitara over the head? Ever since Sareena invited her to come with her sister and other two friends out, she began to act differently, as if the world's sweetest girl in all of ever existing realms that may be out there.

           It started a month ago, and Sareena was already going crazy when it was just a week.

           Idly scrolling through a website while ignoring her father's newest messages - old man felt bothered enough today to see if his youngest child is still successful, it seems - was a surprising routine of waiting from an independent fashion designer while her top catwalk model was still saying her goodbyes to her fans at the backstage.

           What Sareena came unexpectedly across on the screen had her eyes widening comically. She got some new recommanded posts, liked by her bestie Nitara herself. Invested, she went over to the fashion model blog's liked posts. Aside from fashion and beauty there were a lot of tattoo pictures and videos from one of Ashrah's friend.

           The gorgeous tattooist. As Nitara once quoted.

           Sareena stopped her facial muscles from cringing, not risking any wrinkles. "Stalking much...?"

           She didn't think much of it at that time, thinking that her friend is finally getting a tattoo on her own after dream-talking about it for years. And she did had the right idea but it wasn't the whole truth.

           When the two girls were later picked up by a moss-colored pickup truck driven by Ashrah's boyfriend, Syzoth, and Tomáš was at the back to Sareena's complete suprise Nitara took a place next to him than inside the comfy car. Sareena greeted her older sister before taking a seat next to her inside.

           "Thank you, Tomas." the ginger oh-so-sweetly cooed, her emerald eyes sparkled like those of a school girl when the man in the trunk helped her limb in. She did it as elegantly as she could with her heels.

           Offering back a smile, Tomáš gave her his seat. It was warm and it's cold outside tonight, seeing her in a tight, knee-long dress with a light shrug - he wanted to be helful in some way. And the group was off on the road to their next destination; a club.

           Nitara was glad that with the layers of make-up no one could tell she was blushing all the way to her neck. His hand was big against hers, he would be able to hald both her dainty wrists in one hand if he so wished becasue she was more than eager for that to happen, his knuckles were veiny and something about those types of hands charmed her.

           But the woman made sure she was obviously looking at the strain and flex of his arms when he was pulling her up as if she was just a feather. If he saw it and it boosted his ego then the humble man kept it for himself.

           "Hey, Tom-aaa-sh?" Nitara tried her luck in pronouncing his name in his language, she did butcher it but it at least made him laugh.

           "You were pretty close, an A for effort. The S with caron is harder for anyone." Tomáš grinned, he's not mean-spirited but he enjoys seeing people fail when trying to speak Czech.

           She giggled when she was being praised, she raked her ginger lock behind her ear.

           "Will you have any slots available next month? I have been thinking a lot and I'd really love a tattoo. From you." she scooted closer on the blanket they used as a seat and looked at him with big, hopeful eyes, her manicured, ringed hands gently placed on his that was on his propped knee and he didn't shy away from that touch.

           Tomáš looked back at the road, then at the buildings they were passing by, thinking and Nitara took advantage of it by getting closer and enjoy his body heat.

           "I will have to check my notes back at the studio but I guess I will be free at the end of the next month." he finally replied, looking back at Nitara who was beaming with glee like an excited kid.

           "Splendid! Can't wait~" she cooed and it brough out a chuckle from him, he didn't mind Nitara's getle squeeze on his hand, it felt like a friendly-affectionate gesture.

[diariesofapisces]

I Am Back Tracking.

Yesterday felt like the days I used to have freshman year. I was high three different times, I didn't do any work I was supposed to and instead hung out with friends, I got triggered when my friend said she couldn't hang out with me, took three edibles at night when I should have been asleep, I was vaping all day, I was fantasizing about him, and I did my depression night routine. It feels like shit today and I felt like shit yesterday. I don't want to ever feel like I felt last year. Some things are going to need to change. I also made a stupid decision that has really fucked up my money situation. I could sit here and feel sorry for myself and ask why things never go right for me, but this is my fault. I chose to spend money I don't have instead of managing what I have, I chose to accept my friend's vape and use it all day, I chose to get high, and I chose not to do my homework. I let myself get this bad and only I can make it better. I felt horrible when I used to live like this every day and I will not live like that again. I have to set boundaries so this never happens again. Today I will get all my drawing work done, do the math for the lab, play out all my assignments, and then do the dishes. I also want to do some creative things to keep my brain working but let myself take a break. I want to get ahead as I can today but if I just complete the bare minimum I will accept that. I really messed up but it's never too late to turn it around. It doesn't matter how low you go it's about your ability to turn it around. I need to sit with this as long as I can and try to do what I can without more money. This won't last forever and I'll be home soon with a whole different set of problems and upsides. When you go home don't let it stop you but use it to your advantage. I don't want to expect too much for myself. This happens a lot. something like this happens and I make too big of promises for myself and when I obviously can't of those things I get worse. I am not gonna make any long-term promises so I will take it day by day, because I know I can't change overnight.