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#it was obvious that it needed to be renewed
xxlelaxx · 1 year
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We got heaters and we still have water. There is no way of knowing when exactly everything will be over.
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stagefoureddiediaz · 27 days
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Thinking thoughts about Abuela being back and with this backstory about her being taken in by charlatans and Eddies whole catholic guilt thing and how the two things kind of play into one another as an exploration of faith and being taken in by something.
Abuela giving all her money to the tarot card readers etc because she was searching for something - for connection (with Abuelo) - trying to recapture what she had lost, and How Eddie has spoken about trying to re-find the magic he had with Shannon - how Eddie hasn't actually fully reconciled the Shannon of it all when it comes to relationships and how his Catholic guilt connects into that.
How Marisol as a physical representation of Catholicism is part of that narrative - how Eddie is entering a place where he has to chose his path - in order to move on from Shannon he needs to fully square the hole - catholic or non catholic. And how that needs to happen first - before he can begin his queer journey!
#this is so incoherant#I'm also thinking about how Marisol fits into this narrative and how this idea of being taken in or fooled by a person plays into what we#know of her - how she wasn't upfront with Eddie (not saying she had to be right from the off but before moving in!!!) - how she is kind of#representative of secrets - especially around faith and ones connection with faith because she is essentially a stand in for catholicism#which (sorry to all the catholics out there) peddles in magic and secrets in order to keep the mystery of faith alive and therefore keep#people believing. How Eddie's reckoning with himself and the ghost of Shannon ultimately means choosing either to follow the path of#catholicism or non catholicism#How Marisol is a tie to religion and therefore his reasons for not having successful relationships after her (or even with her) and how#Eddie letting go will ultimately mean letting go of Marisol - how he can never fully move forward while catholicism still lingers#how I don't' think we'll be seeing the queer aspect of this narrative this season - that dealing with this first part is key and only once#he has figured it out can he then be free to know himself - is true self better - and accept and move into his full self as a queer man#so yeah - catholic guilt arc 7b and 8a - as its really a two parter - finally dealing with the remnants of Shannon - and its connection wit#his faith and then when truly free of that exploring his queerness!#So yeah - Marisol will possibly be here until towards the end of the season because she is meant to be the trigger point for Eddie in#relation to Shannon - its why they made the difference (and similarities) between S and M very obvious in 7x01#they have the time to build this story arc more fully now with the s8 renewal - to do it justice and unfortunately as part of that it means#she'll probably be around longer than any of us would like!#I don't know if I even make sense at this point#but I do want to reitterate that the show is goig out of its way to contrast her with Buck as well#to really show how close and right for each other Buck and Eddie are so no one needs to panic - she's here for the narrative not forever!#911 abc#911 spoilers#eddie diaz
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coridallasmultipass · 2 months
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TW for racism and genocide of Native Americans
Today I learned that the original "The only good _, is a dead _," was "The only good Indian, is a dead Indian." And it really sucks that now I know this information.
Looks like it's speculated to be attributed to one specific Union general due to his actions, but it was more likely just a common anti-Native sentiment of the time held by a lot of the settlers, not just one person.
Like I know I hear 'the only good snake, is a dead snake' most often since I love being in snake discussion groups, which also sucks because I love snakes, and they shouldn't be killed.
But I've also heard like 'the only good Nazi, is a dead Nazi.' And like, I So agree with that, fuck Nazis, but I don't want to think about the original phrase being reclaimed like that for a laugh, no matter how much I agree that Nazis suck.
It should stay as horrifying and sickening as 'the only good Indian, is a dead Indian' in my opinion. I think we should retire the phrase entirely and just note that, that was the origin of it - the continued genocide of Native Americans during the 1800s when settlers were eager to get rid of us so they could claim property for themselves while forcing us into insufficient reservations as US America expanded westward.
This book I'm reading describes that the usual retaliation for the theft of a cow would have been the execution of an entire Indian village. One specific horrifying example given, is from accounts of a traveler that joined a group of Mexicans pursuing Indians (Chumash) in possession of stolen horses. They come across a group of some old Indians, women and children, drying the horse meat. Every last one was killed, and their ears cut off as proof for the priests that they made every effort to retrieve the horses.
This shit is so sickening. They were hungry and trying to survive.
It also describes how the accounts of Indians from my tribe before the mission system were all about how generous and welcoming they were. (Though, it was through the lens of the Spanish who saw us as ideal candidates for conversion because of this.) Then after the collapse of the missions and post-assimilation, the accounts simply describe the Indians' drunkenness and disorder. What did you expect???? You assimilate a group of people so they're entirely reliant on you (the rigid structure of the mission system and the dismantling of their previous tribal villages), and then suddenly turn them out to a world without their previous villages and social order. Of course they're going to struggle and suffer and abuse the drugs (alcohol) you introduced them to.
I hate this so much.
The book also mentions how, during the mission period, anyone who ran away from the missions to go back to their original tribal lives, would be dragged back to the missions and cruelly punished with restraints, lashing, or stocks, and they couldn't understand why because punishment was exceedingly rare before Spanish rule.
Ugh. Anyway.
I'm going to bring this up any time I hear anyone mention that phrase, because the horror of that time period should not be diminished in its modern reclamation. ('Diminished,' because I, a 30yo Native American, did not even know the origin. I thought it was a modern phrase. Our local Native history was always glossed over in school to focus on the mission system. I didn't even learn of my tribe's revolt until like 2016 when I went to a lecture my tribe held.)
I get that reclamation is supposed to be like a good thing, to take away the power of its original use, but I personally don't think that's appropriate for this phrase that was used as a rally for genocide.
Maybe I'm just being a sensitive baby, though, who knows! I'm crying while reading a history book about my tribe. This shit really hurts deep, though. It always has.
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lexavillanelle · 1 year
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can we finally burn netflix down
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three--rings · 7 months
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One thing I haven't seen a lot of talk about in the fandom so far is about the financials of this season.
It took us two whole months to get a confirmation of renewal from Max, and I talked at the time that I think there was probably a lot of heated negotiations going on at the time with contracts and that's why it took as long as it did.
I think we see a huge number of indications of the compromises that were made in order for S2 to be made. One obvious one that has been talked about is being making in in NZ instead of LA, to save $.
But there's also the eight episodes instead of ten. And then the cast aspect. One downside of moving overseas was having to fly out and house the cast, not just pay day wages.
We knew immediately about Guz Khan not coming back, losing Ivan as a character. At the time I was sad but I thought it had the air of a pretty harshly practical call. If you went through the main recurring cast and said okay which character will affect the fewest things, has the least character interactions of anyone? It would be Ivan. (With the only competition being The Swede IMO, but he's Stede's crew and therefore a little more central.)
And then this season started and we got first The Swede sidelined and taken out of major scenes. And then I noticed that different members of the crew were simply absent for long stretches, like Wee John isn't around for ep 5 at all. And then Buttons takes flight.
Lucius and Pete aren't at the party for most of it. Fang isn't in the torture scene. Roach and Fang aren't in the bar. Etc. SCHEDULING IS HAPPENING.
The new characters are almost entirely played by NZ local actors, which is great, but also...cheaper.
In other words there are big signs that they did everything possible to give us a giant cast of almost everyone we love from S1, and cool new characters, in the most economical way possible.
And I'm grateful for it. I'm grateful we got S2, and it looks great, and it's well written, I'm having a blast, and we get to spend more time with this awesome cast.
But I also kinda think it needs to be said that the cost-cutting shows. That it shouldn't have been only 8 episodes, the pacing is off. That we miss every time someone from the ensemble isn't on screen.
That despite what they've put on screen looking very good, there's far less costuming budget, there's less elaborate sets, and it's a little disappointing. And it's clear it's not a lack of will or talent or vision but blatantly lack of money.
Look, streaming networks want brilliant shows that people love (that will get them to subscribe) but they very don't want to pay anyone to make them. That's like, the whole moment we're having right now.
Max puts out promos about how great it is to not have unions messing shit up in NZ. Well I have friends who are union costumers in LA and guess what union costumers did amazing last season. This season, well, I guess Stede got three whole shirts, so that's cool.
So I dunno. It's just stuff I think about. I'm not trying to be negative about the show in any way. I'm extremely happy with this season; I love it more than well, possibly any show I've ever been in fandom for.
But I see you, Max. You're cheap. You weren't that cheap when you were called HBO.
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feeder86 · 1 month
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Train to Gain
“I want to get jacked!” Jay declared, standing in front of his new personal trainer with his chest puffed out.
Matt nodded, having heard the same thing many times from plenty of guys like Jay, in their early twenties. “Okay, so we’re aiming for muscle gains,” he clarified, making a note of it. “Is there a reason why you want to make this your focus?” he asked, seeing from Jay’s body that he already had a pretty good build that most guys would have been envious of.
Jay nodded. “I’ve just split up with a girl I’ve been with since high school,” he stated without a drop of remorse or sorrow. “I feel like I want to finally do something for myself. You know what I mean? I want to look good. Muscular. Lean.”
Matt nodded. So, just like all the other guys, this one believed that getting more muscle on him would help him score with the ladies. He didn’t need a PhD to crack that little mystery about the boy’s true intention. It was a tale as old as time itself. 
Being so muscular himself, guys like Jay seemed to gravitate towards Matt on an almost daily basis, knowing that he could deliver the results they wanted. They saw his statuesque physique in the gym and felt that working out with a guy as built as he was was akin to ordering that body type for themselves in a catalogue. But Matt was not convinced by this latest client. Jay was a pretty-looking boy, with large soulful eyes and a gentle innocence about him. He wouldn’t be single for long. Some girl would come along, snap him up, and this whole muscle workout craze would be a thing of the past for him.
Nevertheless, Matt settled down to a detailed conversation about what it would take, the commitment Jay would need to make and the amount of sessions he would arrange with him each week. It was obvious that Jay had all the enthusiasm for his goals, but little knowledge of how to actually get there. “We’ll take things slow to begin with,” he smiled. “Then we’ll see how we get on.”
Seeming pleased, Jay shook Matt’s hand and threw his workout bag over his shoulder to leave. Then, as Jay was walking out of the gym, Matt watched as the eyes of every woman in there drifted towards his cute, tight glutes in his fitted gym shorts. Matt chuckled, nodding knowingly. It may have been Jay’s first time being single in his adult life, but it wouldn’t take the pretty boy long to work out that he didn’t need any more muscle to get women. Three weeks, maximum, Matt predicted. There was no way Jay would be paying for his services for longer than that; not when he didn’t need to.
Matt was aware that he was in the minority when it came to enjoying those winter months. But as the holidays came and went, he jumped out of bed with a renewed spring in his step, knowing that the gym would be fit to bursting with chubby, overweight and under-exercised guys trying to make a fresh start for the New Year. It was hard to pinpoint what exactly it was that he loved about them so much: that doughy shape, the jiggle of fat as they strolled on the treadmills. Maybe it was the way their sweat made their tight gym clothes stick to their rounded bodies . Matt was both mesmerised and fascinated by it all at the same time. 
It was around this time of year that he had met his now ex-boyfriend who had been trying to lose a few pounds back then. He’d copped a lot of crap from his colleagues at the gym for dating someone so big, and he’d had to challenge them multiple times for their attitudes towards the match. So what if he was into bigger guys? Whose business was it who he dated? Certainly not theirs. Not that any of it mattered in the end. Nine months in and the whole relationship had fallen apart anyway. His heart broken, just as they had all been expecting,
“Alright! That was pretty good!” Matt marvelled a staggering twelve weeks later, as Jay successfully squatted his biggest weight yet. He slapped the guy on his shoulder and passed him his water. “You’re killing it!” he smiled encouragingly.
“But I don’t look any different yet,” Jay grumbled, repeating the same complaint that had surfaced again and again in their recent sessions. “Sure, I’m a little stronger, but not much.”
“We’re taking it slow, remember,” Matt stated calmly. “You were quite clear from the start that you wanted to add muscle the lean way. It just takes a little more time.”
“But what’s the alternative?” Jay asked.
“Proper bulking,” Matt replied. “You give your body all the calories it needs to grow. We discussed this in our first meeting, remember?” he explained, a little exasperated. “You were insistent. You wanted a lean muscle bulk.”
“I want to be bigger,” Jay shot back.
“If you go with the bulking option, you’d have to accept the fact that not all of the gains you make would be muscle,” Matt tried to clarify.
“But I saw this guy online…” Jay began, rambling yet again about some viral influencer who claimed to know it all about how to get ripped with ease.
Matt bit his tongue. He genuinely liked Jay, but he was fed up of trying to debunk all of the insane fitness myths clients came in with these days. He was only twenty seven, and yet he wondered how much longer he could stand to do this job when there was so much misinformation out there. “Look, let’s just try it,” he suggested forcefully, cutting Jay off mid sentence. “I’ll set you up with a bulking plan and we’ll see what happens. If you’re not happy after a couple of weeks, you can fire me and send all your money to those online fitness con artists instead,” he stated plainly.
Still not seeming overly convinced, Jay nodded. “Okay. We’ll try this your way…”
“So, have you got much planned for your week off?” Matt asked Jay a good few weeks later. He’d found that he didn’t struggle with small talk as much with Jay as he did some of his other clients. They seemed to share the same sense of humour and had successfully recommended more than one decent TV show to each other in the past.
“I’m going to a wedding,” Jay answered, sitting himself back ready to lift.
“A wedding, huh?” Matt asked, loading on the weights ready. “That’s a great place to meet girls,” he said, finding it bizarre that Jay was still single after all this time.
“Not a chance!” Jay chuckled, lifting his hands up to grab the bar. “I told you, I’m done with all that.”
“Whatever you say!” Matt chuckled back; his eyes catching sight of Jay’s stomach as the guy’s t-shirt rose, ready for the lift. He could tell that the bulking diet was well underway, with a padded thickness around Jay’s middle, bulging to the sides to form what many might consider the beginnings of love handles.
Jay lifted like never before. After one set he insisted that Matt make the bar even heavier again; grunting with the extreme effort it took.
“You did it!” Matt marvelled, finally setting the bar back minutes later. “I can’t get over how quickly you’re progressing now.”
Jay sat up, spreading his legs wide and owning the space he was in. It was a feeling Matt knew all too well: the sense of power and size after lifting more than ever before. “This bulking is really working, isn’t it?” Jay smiled.
“It is!” Jay nodded, trying to mask his surprise at just how much more noticeable Jay’s extra thickness was around his waist when he sat up like this. There was no way the guy was going to stick out the full bulking period; the boy seemed genetically predisposed to carry a tight little paunch at this size. Already Matt could sense the cut was on the horizon.
Once again, Matt’s predictions fell flat on their face. As more weeks went by, Jay was very quickly becoming one of Matt’s strongest clients. However, it was all coming at quite a cost to the guy’s naturally athletic physique. Built around a solid core, Jay’s chunky middle was rounded and significantly paunch-like in appearance, despite being somewhat muted by the large chest and muscular shoulders that had grown alongside it. If Jay had been going for that muscular V-shaped back, he had fallen far short of the mark. His stout tummy had swelled out his love handles to a size that could not be hidden by pretty much any of the t-shirts that he wore in the gym. Matt had even seen the guy out and about upon occasion, feeling shocked at just how thick and overfed he actually looked; especially with that meaty swagger he had about him, artificially pushing out his arms to increase his width.
“And, we’ll finish with twenty minutes on the treadmill,” Matt declared during their next session, waiting for the exhausted guy to sluggishly pick himself up off the weight machine.
“The treadmill?” Jay asked, as if Matt had been joking. “I’m not paying for you to watch me on the treadmill for twenty minutes,” he laughed.
“You do realise that we’re going to be putting a lot more cardio exercises into your routine from now on? We agreed to start cutting from next week, remember?”
Jay brushed him off, insisting that he could do another set on the machine he was currently on. The rest of the session continued in that manner until the time was depleted. Then a sweaty, beefy looking Jay simply lifted a protein shake to his mouth and began chugging.
“What’s in that thing?” Matt asked, noticing that it was far thicker than any of the recipes he had supplied to Jay. He took it from Jay’s limp hand and held it to his nose. “That’s so sweet!” he gasped, recoiling slightly. Swirling the remaining third in the bottle, Matt declared with absolute certainty that this was not part of the diet plan he had given Jay.
“I found the recipe online,” Jay shot back, snatching the shake back and draining it quickly. “I drink four of these daily. Your shake recipes were good, but I wasn’t packing on the muscle half as quickly as I am now.”
Matt winced. Jay had been heading in the wrong direction for weeks now; his muscle gains overshadowed by significant increases in fat. And Matt had been ignoring it all, pushing it to the back of his mind, denying it. “Have you got the recipe for me to look at?” he asked diplomatically.
Jay lazily held out his hand for Matt to pass him his cell phone from his bag. Then, after a couple of seconds, the webpage link came buzzing through to Matt.
“Um…” Matt mumbled, feeling his heart beating with worry. “Have you really been drinking these four times a day? Did you not think to check out the ingredients? All that sugar? Condensed milk?”
“I’m not an idiot!” Jay grumbled back, as Matt noticed the fat that was starting to build up under the handsome boy’s chin and into his cheeks. “These things promise results and they deliver. I’ve gained 25 lbs in the last two months alone!”
Matt took a step back, feeling that he had let Jay down more than any other client he had ever had. Yet, somewhere deep inside of him was a spark of attraction. Jay was starting to look genuinely fat. It was literally spreading across his entire body and had been doing so for weeks.  “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled guiltily. “I should have been more on top of your diet planner. This should never have happened.”
Jay seemed utterly perplexed by Matt’s remorse, but he agreed to pack up his stuff and head out to a local cafe for a more thorough debrief. They sat with two coffees at a small table near the front as Matt considered how best to insist that Jay quit the shakes as soon as possible.
Matt thought he had his speech all ready to go. He inhaled, ready to begin, when he suddenly noticed that Jay’s attention was elsewhere. A large, overweight guy had come in through the door, making Jay look across with interest. Matt followed his gaze and then cringed with regret, realising that the man was none other than his ex boyfriend, Chris. They had just made eye contact.
“I’m really sorry about this!” Matt blasted out, realising that his almost 400 lb ex was heading over to the table and there was nothing that he could do to stop him.
“Hello Matt,” the large bellied guy smiled. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Yeah,” Matt nodded, not looking directly at him in the hopes that he would soon get the message and leave them be. “Nice to see you, Chris,” he lied.
“I gained a bit of weight recently,” Chris went on, patting his fat stomach. “I’d love to show you some time.”
“I’m actually with a client right now!” Matt hissed, losing patience. “When I said that things were over between us, I meant it.”
Chris looked down at them both, giving Jay in particular the most filthy of looks. Then he turned, deciding that the coffee house was no good after all and disappeared out of the door.
“Who was that?” Jay exclaimed the second the guy’s large form had disappeared beyond the windows. 
“My ex,” Matt sighed, feeling frustrated that they should bump into each other here; whilst he was with a client no less! “We broke up about eight months ago.”
“You? And HIM?” Jay asked in disbelief, making it hard for Matt to tell whether it was the fact that he dated guys that most surprised Jay, or the sheer size of that ex-boyfriend. Either way, it became the focus of a long line of questions that Matt was finding difficult to deflect.
“I’ve made a decision,” Jay finally declared as they at last got off the topic of Matt’s love life. “I want to keep the bulk going for another six weeks.”
“I would very strongly advise against that,” Matt replied immediately.
“Six more weeks!” Jay laughed, as if he was making the simplest of alterations to their training plan. “It’s nothing! You need to learn to relax, buddy!”
Matt sighed. Perhaps because he was still reeling from coming face to face with Chris again, he did not feel especially inclined to argue. Jay was a client after all, and his wishes had to be respected - even if he was making a choice that Matt knew would make it significantly harder for the guy to get back in shape afterwards.
Just as Matt had anticipated, the weight that poured onto Jay’s body over the coming weeks was nothing more than pure fat. He’d find himself staring at it, having never felt so conflicted in his life. He was attracted by fat on a guy’s body, yes. But Jay was also a client who was confused by all of the bad advice out there and had caught himself up in a pattern of weight gain that was bloating his previously toned body. The sight of it, Matt had to admit, was nothing short of wildly arousing.
“He’s one of yours isn’t he?” asked one of the other trainers as Jay walked in for his training session wearing a t-shirt that was significantly too tight for his bloated torso. The guy braced himself against the wall to stretch out his calves, not realising how much his shirt had ridden up in the process and exposing a good three inches of his new, overfed tummy pushing itself over the waistband.
“Great work, Matt,” sneered Harry, the other male trainer, giving him a sarcastic slow clap as the three of them all watched Jay from a good distance.
Matt wanted to explain how he hadn’t been to blame; how Jay had found bad advice online instead, and was continuing to bulk against his advice. However, there was a strange thrill in not saying anything at all; something that Matt could not explain, even if he tried. 
Next, Jay began squatting, spreading his chunky legs wide apart with the good posture that Matt had taught him, then lifting his body up and down. It was a simple move and not at all noteworthy but for the extreme tightness of the shorts he was wearing, pulling the waistband lower and lower at the back, revealing more and more of his butt crack with each dip; thanks in part to the similarly undersized underwear he had on underneath.
“Ugh!” laughed Harry.. “No one wants to see that!”
Matt looked around at the others in the gym. Jay was indeed getting looks of disapproval, and even disgust, for his scandalously tight clothing.
“You need to have a word,” the trainers all agreed. “He’s putting people off. It’s bad for business.”
Matt sighed. He knew what they were saying was right, but how could he even begin a conversation about it to a client who was paying him? Especially one he was starting to crush on in the most inappropriate of ways.
Despite Jay’s confidence on the weights, it was quite clear during that session that the guy wasn’t making as much progress with his lifting than he obviously thought he was. In fact, his lifting had peaked almost two months earlier and there had been minimal successes since then. What had changed was the amount of sweating Jay was doing; leaving the machines with a damp imprint of his overfed rear which Matt wiped down each time. But with the sweating, Jay’s clothing tightened around him even more. Matt didn’t need to see Jay on the scales, he was an expert on every part of his body, knowing exactly how it was altering because he could see it right there, before his very eyes. He had to breathe a little deeper when he felt the arousal getting too much for him. Jay’s butt was pure perfection; shaped by good genes and some decent early muscle gains, but now swelling and widening with the pounds and pounds of fat the guy was amassing.
Jay had been buzzing about his new apartment; finally allowing him to get out of parents’ place. It was going to make bulking a lot easier, he’d declared, making Matt feel uneasy about how much more extreme his client may take things.
“I’ve got boxes and boxes of stuff all over the place,” Jay complained. “I need a good sort out, really. It’s just so easy to dump it all in the closet and forget about it though.”
“That reminds me,” Matt jumped in, seeing an opening and seizing upon it. “I got an email the other day for a good discount on the online shop I use for clothes,” he began, having pondered over how best to approach the clothes issue for the entire hour of their session. “It can be quite hard to find stuff that fits right when you’re a bodybuilder.”
“Tell me about it!” nodded the chubby boy, not sensing the irony in his words in the slightest. “None of my clothes fit properly anymore.”
Matt nodded. Under normal circumstances, this would have been a good lead in to discuss Jay’s dissatisfaction with his clothing and how he shouldn’t really be feeling such tightness around his stomach when he was trying to pack on muscle. As it was, he could feel the eyes of the other trainers on the back of his head. The only task he had to complete was getting Jay out of those ridiculously tight gym clothes. “I use this brand,” he lied, showing Jay the webpage he had just got up on his cell phone. He knew that impressionable guys like Jay wanted to look like him; to have the same confidence and presence. If he recommended a clothes line to them, he was pretty certain they would take it. “With the progress you’ve been making, you could probably get away with the extra large, but the 2XL might suit your needs more if you’re still in the bulking phase. Fast delivery too.”
Jay nodded with interest and took every link that Matt sent him. 
“I’ve spoken to him about the clothes,” Matt nodded, seeing the faces of expectation from the other trainers as he went back after the session ended.
“I know it’s tough having to tell a client that they’re getting too heavy,” Harry nodded. “But when he’s spilling out of his clothes like that, enough is enough. It’s time to say something.”
Matt nodded, knowing that Harry was exactly right. But that wasn’t what he had done, was it? He’d sent Jay off believing that he was making ‘progress’ and that he needed to wear clothes suitable for bodybuilders. The reality was anything but. Jay was chubby and out of shape. He’d not done any cardio in… it must have been months! He was a client who kept Matt awake at night with his feelings of guilt. He was letting the guy down, and this latest stunt was his worst sin of all.
It came as no surprise when Jay continued to be obsessed with bulking, even after the third and fourth deadlines for cutting came and went. The small mercy was that Jay was at least dressed better in the gym. With his new clothes, he was starting to look like any other broad, fat guy. His pretty face was still getting him the odd glance from some of the women, but the fatter body underneath was more than enough to ensure that it never progressed into anything more.
“You’ll never guess what I managed to get tickets for!” Jay blasted one Wednesday evening as he came in for his session.
“No way?” Matt grinned, knowing exactly where Jay was going with this. “You got them? But the concert has been sold out for months!”
“They were giving away tickets on the radio. I phoned up, answered some trivia questions live on air with someone else and… they’re mine!” he grinned, clearly delighted with himself.
“Congratulations!” Matt beamed. “I’m so jealous! You’re going to have such a great time!”
“No… WE’RE going to have such a great time,” Jay corrected him. “They asked me on the radio show who I wanted to take with me, and I told them your name. You’re the only person I know who is as obsessed with them as I am. No one else would appreciate it like you would.”
Matt’s initial reaction was to decline. There were many clients who tried to socialise outside of these sessions, but it was almost always unprofessional to do so. However, he had also desperately wanted to see this band since he was eight years old. Plus, he and Jay did genuinely seem to get on pretty well.”
“Can I give you some money for the ticket then?” he asked.
“No, I got them for free,” Jay shot back, shaking his head.
“Well, I’ll drive us then,” Matt tried to compromise, knowing that the concert was a good couple of hours away. “I know where your new place is. I can pick you up at about 4pm on Saturday afternoon?”
Jay nodded, accepting the offer without hesitation. Then, for the rest of the week, Matt was telling all of his clients about the concert and how excited he was. He was amazed that not a single person had heard of the band or even recognised any of the tracks when he played a couple of samples for them on his cell phone. ‘What the hell was wrong with people?’ he thought to himself, highlighting in his mind just how much better he clicked with Jay than anyone else he worked with.
That Saturday, Matt didn’t really know who he was trying to impress as he slipped on his most expensive shirt and left the last three buttons undone to expose part of his strapping chest. He turned up at Jay’s building, expecting to head straight off, but was instead buzzed inside.
“Sorry!” Jay spluttered, opening the door to him, covered with only a small towel around his waist, fresh from the shower. “I had a big lunch and fell asleep! I only woke up ten minutes ago.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Matt nodded, trying to keep his eyes fixed on Jay’s face and not look down to explore his client’s beautifully chubby proportions. “We’ve got plenty of time.”
Jay trotted back into his bedroom; his jiggly love handles bouncing with the quick pace he was going at. Matt simply took a deep breath and tried to control the arousal that he felt. He looked around the apartment, coming to one very obvious conclusion: This was the home of a fat guy. It was obvious; from the small armies of empty beer cans, to the carnage of emptied take out containers and pizza boxes. Discarded clothes dotted the space and Matt found himself meandering into the kitchen; his curiosity getting the better of him. He opened the refrigerator and peeked in all of the cupboards as quietly as he possibly could. What he found was far worse than he ever would have imagined: cakes, candy, cookies and several containers of those disastrous protein shakes… Jay had the lot, and then some. The guy was eating like a pig and putting on weight at a frankly alarming rate. Matt tried to breathe deeply again, but this time, the blood rushing towards his groin seemed determined to give him a full on erection.
“Thanks for waiting for me,” Jay smiled moments later, coming out in a shirt that was far too small for his stout little gut. He opened the refrigerator and downed one of his shakes, as was his usual routine at this time. Once again, Matt had to look away. Then, as the last of it drained, Jay lifted his arms and pumped his biceps, now covered in a good layer of pure fat.
The conversation flowed well in the car as the pair listened to a few of the band’s old albums and talked at length about their shared interests.
“If we’ve still got twenty minutes before we need to go in, I’m going to find some food,” Jay declared once they had parked up. He walked slightly ahead as Matt tried to avert his eyes away from the guy’s wide, overfed glutes, barely contained in his overly tight pants. “I absolutely love bulking,” he declared a few minutes later, holding a giant burger in both hands and raising it part way to his mouth. Then, like a genuine glutton, he dropped his head over it and began feasting with his large shoulders hunched forwards.
Matt genuinely did try to enjoy the concert, but he was conscious of trying to hold back an erection the entire time. He wondered why his brain had to be wired up this way. Why couldn’t he just enjoy the music without getting turned on by the significantly chubby guy he had come here with? He’d had to sit for significant periods of the concert with his hands resting over his crotch as Jay danced beside him, arms up in the air and his rounded tummy popping out. It was so humid in there, making Jay glow with a beautiful fat-boy sweat and ensuring that his clothes plastered themselves to his thick body even more than they already were doing.
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” Jay smiled the moment the lights came up. “How would you like to go backstage?”
Matt couldn’t believe it as he was shaking hands with his idols and chatting away with other fans backstage only minutes later. It truly was an extraordinary night.
“So, how do you guys know each other?” the lead singer asked as he came up to them both at the bar.
“Matt’s my personal trainer,” Jay answered, downing his beer into his bloated belly.
“I can see you’ve got your work cut out for you,” the singer whispered to Matt, tapping him on his strong back in sympathy.
“I’m in the best shape of my life,” Matt went on, clearly a little tipsy. He put his beer down and reached into his tight pocket to pull out his cell phone. “This is me, before I started training,” he declared, passing the singer a picture of him from just under eleven months ago: slim, handsome, athletic.
“And this is you… ‘before’ you started training?” the guy asked, ensuring that he wasn’t misunderstanding.
Jay nodded enthusiastically, raising his chubby arms to flex and simultaneously letting his chubby belly fall out for the umpteenth time that evening.
“Right,” the singer nodded, confused and surprised; possibly wondering if Jay was making some sort of joke. He slapped Matt on the back once more, then headed off to speak to some others.
When Jay asked to stop off for more food on the way back, Matt didn’t feel that he really had the right to refuse him after the night they had had together. However, it was yet another torturous exercise, having to sit next to Jay as he was gorging his fat body on more fries and burgers in the passenger seat. The sounds of his greedy chewing and swallowing were turning on an already stimulated sex drive to even greater extremes.
“I thought he might have been flirting with you,” Jay explained as they discussed their encounter with the lead singer. “The way he kept on tapping you on the back like that.”
“That wasn’t what that was about,”  Matt answered simply as he tried to control the boner he was getting, listening to Jay sucking air as he reached the end of his gigantic milkshake.
“You must have people flirting with you all the time, the shape you’re in,” Jay continued, stuffing the last of the fries into his mouth.
Matt took a breath in, wondering how to answer something like that. The answer was yes; he certainly did get a lot of attention from both guys and girls. But, as was being made strikingly clear to him that evening, the types of people he found attractive himself were often quite far from what most would expect.
“You don’t talk much about this sort of stuff, do you?” Jay asked him next after a pause.
“Neither do you,” Matt shot back.
“I’m just out of a long term relationship,” Jay replied grandly.
“Over a year ago!” Matt laughed. “In that case, I can use the same excuse.”
“You mean that huge guy we met in the coffee house that time? You were really into him?”
“I was in love with him, yes,” Matt replied, feeling that the conversation was getting a little too close to the bone now.
“How did he get that big? Was he always fat? Or did he just put on weight as an adult?” Jay pressed on obliviously.
“Combination of both, I expect,” Matt shrugged, trying to think of how to shift the conversation away from his ex.
“Do you think I could ever get as big as he is?” Jay asked.
Matt looked across at Jay in confusion. “Chris wasn’t a weight lifter, y’know?” he stated plainly. “He was probably as weak as a kitten. He was just… very overweight.”
“I just remember him being large,” Jay shrugged. “Guys like that always make me feel a little jealous.”
“There aren’t many people who would be jealous of Chris’ body type,” Matt chuckled, assuming that Jay was making fun.
“I think, if I kept up my protein shakes, I’d have a chance at getting to his sort of size,” Jay pondered aloud.
“I have no doubt that you would,” Matt nodded. “But it wouldn’t be lean muscle, I can promise you that.”
“Do you think it would suit me?” Jay asked playfully back.
Now Matt felt entirely on the backfoot. There was no way to answer the question without incriminating himself somehow. “I guess so,” he mumbled vaguely.
“So, do you think I should give up weight lifting then?” the guy immediately replied..
“I didn’t say that,” Matt countered.
“It’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot recently. I’ve had a lot more success gaining weight and getting big in other ways, rather than muscle. Maybe I should just focus on that?”
“You know exactly what I’d say to that. I’m a personal trainer!” Matt reminded him. “Of course you’re not supposed to give up weight training and just let yourself get fat.”
“You can be such a square sometimes,” Jay laughed. “You’re so caught up with your diet plans, your nutrition goals and research papers on exercise schedules. You forget that most people don’t care about any of that stuff. It’s all about feeling good in your own body.”
The last fifteen minutes of the journey went by a little smoother, with the conversation naturally evolving into something lighter.
“Want to come in and grab those recipe books you lent me?” Jay asked as they parked up outside his building.
Thinking about another of his clients, Matt nodded keenly. It was more than obvious that Jay had little interest in any of the lean meals in them, so why not pass them on? He followed the guy up the stairs, allowing his brain to fantasise about taking the chubby guy straight into his bedroom. Now that he knew he would be home in twenty minutes and able to release all the pent-up sexual frustration from his evening with Jay, he somehow felt more able to embrace it; gazing with lust at those giant glutes, like round globes of fat, pressed tightly into Jay’s pants as he walked up the stairs ahead of him.
“They’ll be in my closet somewhere,” Jay explained, leading Matt into his bedroom. Inside here, the mess of take out containers continued, making it clear that Jay did just as much of his eating in bed, as he did anywhere else in the apartment. He reached over a pile of boxes and leaned into this closet, presenting Matt with a full view of his wide rear. Matt simply stared at it, swooning.
Jay had to lean in more and more, too lazy to move the boxed out of the way, and grunting from the effort. Matt told him not to worry; that he could get them some other time, but still Jay persevered, leaning even more of his weight onto the boxes at the front. Then, in a split second, they gave way underneath him, sending Jay falling head first into the closet, his legs up in the air.
Matt grabbed at him in a swift rescue, lifting him up and out by pulling him by his waistband and trying to reach his arm in to hold Jay just above his waist. He was a very heavy boy indeed, and not easy to shift, but eventually he came, looking significantly worse for wear. The most stressed buttons on his shirt had popped clean off and his pants had ripped as Matt had tried to pull him up from behind.
“Sorry about that,” Matt mumbled, seeing what a state Jay now looked in his torn clothes. He’d had to pull him at a strange angle to get him back upright and, although he hoped it wasn’t the case, there was a possibility that Jay might have felt the erection in his pants as he was put back on his feet.
Jay flattened his hair and shuffled over to his mirror. His fingers explored the ripped buttons and torn material. There was his little fat belly popping out like never before; his significant fat gains never looking more obvious. The hallmarks of actual obesity starting to shine through.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Matt asked, wondering why Jay was so stunned; his nervousness increasing by the second.
“If I asked you to stay tonight, would you?” Jay asked simply.
“Why do you want me to stay?” Matt asked. “Do you think you’ve hurt yourself?”
Jay did not answer, but simply unbuttoned only the remaining buttons of his shirt and let the material fall to the floor. “Stay,” he repeated, letting Matt’s gaze fall in its entirety upon his bloated, fattened body. “I can tell that you’d like to.”
Matt allowed himself to enjoy the sight. His fingers twitched at his side, desperate to explore and touch. “Do you mean that?” he asked, no longer hiding his interest.
Jay nodded, grabbing a wedge of his own fat. “Let’s just say, you’re not the only person who gets a boner over this stuff.”
Immediately, Matt pulled Jay into a deeply passionate kiss. Their hands began to explore each other and they soon fell, entirely naked onto the unmade bed. Finally, the fizzing sexual tension that had been torturing Matt all night was set free; the fireworks still to come.
Matt woke the next morning as the light began pouring in through Jay’s window. He turned, seeing the bloated boy still resting deeply. Despite his good looks, this wasn’t the sort of thing that Matt ever did. He could count on a single hand how many guys he had slept with in the past, and he could explain how each one of them had eventually ended up breaking his heart. 
Jay stirred as Matt made an attempt to get out of bed. “Morning,” he called out. “What a wild night, huh?”
Matt smiled. “Pretty wild, yeah!” he nodded.
“Did I do it okay?” Jay asked sweetly. “I’ve never tried to give a blow job before.”
“You did great!” Matt nodded. “Amazing, in fact,” he added, remembering how quickly they had both climaxed last night. He’d worked on Jay first and then the sweet guy worked his mouth on Matt until he came in less than a minute. 
“Could you go and get me my shake out of the refrigerator?” Jay asked next, sitting up. “I forgot to have my last one when we got back yesterday, so I’ll have to make up for it this morning. In fact, bring me two,” he reconsidered. “I’ll get it down now.”
Matt hesitated for a moment. He knew that, officially, as Jay’s trainer, he wasn't supposed to approve of these shakes. Still, he was in Jay’s apartment, having just spent the night, so he could hardly start lecturing him now.
Still in a state of undress, Matt slipped out of the room and tiptoed over the mess that was littering the living space. He opened the fridge and felt a pang of arousal as he remembered just how many Jay had prepared for himself.
“Thanks,” Jay smiled, getting back from the bathroom as Matt returned. “I can still feel that burger from last night,” he chuckled, rubbing the shelf of stomach fat, before taking a deep deep breath chugging one of the shakes.
Matt’s penis, which hadn’t been flaccid since the moment he woke up next to Jay, began to pump itself harder upon watching Jay drink. He found it embarrassing how quickly his arousal responded to stuff like this and he moved his hand to cover it up; not wanting Jay to see and realise what a freak he was. However, as he looked at the bedsheets, he could see that the same thing was happening to Jay as well, with his own hardness pushing the material upwards, throbbing up and down like a heartbeat.
Taking himself off to the bathroom, Matt calmed himself down. He was so into Jay, he couldn’t ruin it, like last time. When he returned, both shakes were emptied and Jay was up, checking his body out in the mirror; that old jock physique of his destroyed and replaced with the chubby, overfed form there was today. Gone was the youthful pertness of his glutes, now so wide and juicy. All the added fat had swollen his chest up so considerably, with his new, pointed nipples looking alert and sharp as they started to droop a little onto the broad, shockingly ball-like stomach that completely dominated the boy’s appearance.
Matt went over and kissed the chub sweetly, hoping that Jay wouldn’t feel differently now the morning had arrived. Afterwards, he took the guy’s hand and then gently led him back to bed; making love to him slowly and passionately this time; wanting to show Jay just how much he could adore and cherish him, if he would only give him the chance.
When Jay turned up for their training session the next day, there was an air of mischief about him. The pair of them were chuckling and smiling, knowing exactly what they had got up to at the weekend and excited to be in each other’s company again. Now when Matt had to touch him, supporting his arms in a certain way, or correcting his posture, it sent waves of pleasure through his entire body. If he tried to get tough with Jay to get him to build up a sweat, the guy would come back with something flirtatious or rude, making Matt laugh.
“What time do you finish tonight?” Jay asked after a particularly arousing session where Jay had actually done very little indeed.
“Ten,” Matt replied, wincing at how late it was going to be.
“That’s okay,” Jay smiled excitedly. “Want to stay over again?”
Matt looked around, trying to hold himself back from wanting to kiss Jay right there and then; the cutest, chubbiest guy currently at the gym that moment. He knew how unprofessional it was to be dating his client. In some ways, it was like playing with fire; both terrifying and thrilling. “Want me to bring anything over?” he asked politely, knowing how low Jay was getting on supplies like lubricant and condoms after the weekend.
“You could pick me up some doughnuts,” Jay happily agreed.
“Oh, right. Okay,” Matt mumbled in surprise. That hadn’t been what he had meant at all. “Any particular kind?” he offered, not wanting to spoil the mood by declining.
“Just the twelve pack that you can get at the late night convenience place at the end of my street,” Jay answered him, clearly wanting to kiss him goodbye, but knowing that he couldn’t here.
Slapping the twelve pack of doughnuts on the counter a while later, Matt couldn’t help feeling a little guilty. Here he was getting a spark of arousal at buying all this sugar and fat for his chubby lover. What would people say if they knew? He strolled over to Jay’s place and was buzzed in, finding the apartment door open as he made it up the stairs.
Seeing his chubby boy sprawled out on the couch, Matt took off his shirt and smiled, closing the door behind him before he marched straight over to kiss his new lover. Still dressed in his gym clothes, Jay’s stomach was falling out of his t-shirt as he twisted his head for the kiss. Two more empty flasks of shake sat on the floor beside the couch, alongside another pizza box that Jay must have picked up right after his workout.
Matt had slipped his hand onto Jay’s tummy as he went back for another kiss. How could he tell him off for his bad diet when he looked so adorable right now?
“Did you get my doughnuts?” Jay asked.
Matt nodded, getting up to collect them and feeling surprised at how eagerly Jay took them from him.
“Amazing! You got the cream filled ones!” Jay cheered, ripping the box open and pushing a doughnut straight in his mouth.
Matt hadn’t realised that there were different types, having just bought the first pack he’d found in the store, but he was pleased that it was giving Jay so much pleasure. He gazed with adoration as he ate, feeling himself falling hard for the guy. He sat there, on the floor, below the couch, rubbing Jay’s leg, observing it all. Doughnut number 5, 6 and 7 disappeared. Afterwards, Matt slipped in beside him, kissing his head from behind and holding the overfed boy tenderly. Whilst he couldn’t wait to sleep with Jay again, these tender moments were something he never wanted to rush.
“Did anyone notice that we were flirting at the gym? Jay asked as they lay tenderly together later on. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“That’s not something I want you to worry about,” Matt whispered into his ear. “I can handle any fallout if it comes to that.”
“I’ve actually wanted to quit weight training for quite some time. I just didn’t know how to tell you properly. Then our little relationship wouldn’t be so much of an issue.”
“So, we’re in a relationship, huh?” Matt teased, beaming with pride and hugging his boyfriend tightly from behind. “I don’t want you to give it up just for me, though,” he added regretfully.
“You’re the only reason I stuck it out so long,” Jay chuckled. “The truth is, I’m getting a lot more of a buzz out of developing my mass in ways that aren’t strength training related.”
Matt lifted his head as he lay in bed and looked down at the fat filled stomach on Jay; his hardness immediately throbbed into the guy’s doughy glutes. He wished he could control it; still wanting to conceal the fact that he found the idea of Jay becoming even more overweight so wildly erotic. He realised that as much as he would try to reason with Jay about his overeating and general laziness, his dick would always be there, trying to undermine his words of caution.
Although Jay didn’t acknowledge it with his words, he reached across for yet another doughnut, even though he had previously said he was stuffed. Was that for Matt’s benefit? Was he doing it to turn him on? Perhaps it was yet another unintended error of Matt’s that was dragging Jay even further down this crazy rabbit hole.
Jay’s gains began to speed up quite dramatically within the first six months of their relationship; Matt’s guilt increasing with every pound. There were times when he should have stepped in to stop Jay pushing his appetite too hard. When he discovered Jay buying in clothes for himself that were far too large, he could have asked why. He knew so much about nutrition and what it all was doing to Jay’s body, bloating it more and more beyond recognition. He’d crossed 300lbs. That should have been a moment for them both to take stock and reevaluate things; but the arousal of it all; the way Jay seemed to not care in the slightest about how people were seeing him these days; that confidence; the love that Matt felt for him. It all culminated to ensure the personal trainer kept quiet and allowed it to continue.
Jay’s body was stunning. There wasn’t a single spot where the fat hadn’t done its work, softening and swelling him up. With the lack of weight training, Jay’s chest had succumbed to the blubber, now filling up under his armpits and inflating his arms. All the while, his gut and wide butt quietly continued to grow ever more; becoming more extreme with each passing day. 
Matt couldn’t say not to Jay on his birthday. He’d asked him again and again what he wanted to do for it: a day trip, a weekend hotel stay, any gift he wanted. But all Jay had insisted on was a take-out meal in front of the TV.
“This ice cream is definitely the best,” Jay smiled, scooping out from the tub with his spoon. “I can’t believe you found some!”
“Well, you’re worth it,” Matt smiled. “I even found some of those special flavour doughnuts that you tried a few months ago. So you’ve got something to enjoy tomorrow as well.”
“Tomorrow?” Jay chuckled sceptically. “I’ll be having those bad boys tonight! It is my birthday after all!”
Matt laughed and nodded. There was no arguing with that logic.
“In fact,” Jay continued. “I’d like you to be the one to feed them to me.”
Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, Matt pretended to spill his glass of water and made a fuss, grabbing a towel from the kitchen.
“Why do you always do that?” Jay asked, obviously downbeat. “You’ve got to know that I love the idea of you feeding me. We both clearly get off on how fat I’m getting. Everyone thinks you’re a feeder now. They saw you with your ex; they’ve seen me getting over 350lbs. You’ve heard them whispering it behind your back. So why won’t you ever feed me?”
Matt tried to brush the comments off. It wasn’t the right time; not on Jay’s birthday. However, his refusal to answer only seemed to make things worse. “Okay,” he finally surrendered. “I’m not being coy,” he admitted. “I… I just…” he stumbled. “It was when I was dating Chris.”
“The four hundred pound guy you were with before me?” Jay asked, with only a mild hint of jealousy.
“Chris and I didn’t meet at a club like I told everyone. We actually met on a kink website for feeders and gainers.” 
“How did I not know this?” Jay laughed, realising that his shy boyfriend had been holding out on him the entire time. “So you used to feed Chris to make him gain weight?”
Matt nodded. “It was great. It felt amazing. I fell ridiculously in love with the guy. He put on about 40lbs in the time we were together.”
“You dark horse!” Jay joked, barely containing his delight.
“But it just wrecked things in the end. We both wanted him bigger and fatter. We spoke about it endlessly. But when Chris was in a mood with me for something, he used to blame only me for making him fat. He said it was all my fault he was so unhappy. I spent so much of my time trying to make him smile and the second something pissed him off, he’d throw it all back in my face.”
“That’s not very nice,” Jay agreed, pleased to finally learn how Matt’s previous relationship had ended.
“Then there was one day when Chris’ car broke down. He came over in such a bad mood and started taking it all out on me. He ended up getting drunk and heading out with his friends. He made out to them all that I was fattening him secretly. He even messaged my parents to say the same thing.”
“Shit!” Jay cringed for him, now realising why Matt’s parents had never been especially warm with him.
“Chris apologised, of course. But it was too late. Fake news like that travels like wildfire. Even though I knew I was always going to be attracted to bigger guys, I always promised myself, I wouldn’t ever get caught up in a situation like that again. Not if it risked making someone as special as you so unhappy.”
Jay nodded, completely understanding. “It makes sense,” he nodded in agreement. “But you’re not to blame for how I’m turning out. I’m not Chris, and I never have been.”
“I get that, but..” Matt tried to counter.
“No, I mean it. I’ve wanted to be a fat boy for as long as I can remember. I felt so ashamed about it. I thought a muscle gain might quench that thirst, but it didn’t. There is no part of me that is doing this just for your pleasure,” he stated sincerely. “So stop with the guilt.”
Matt nodded, feeling that he had been thoroughly put in his place. This wasn’t all about him. This was Jay’s journey.
“But I think you also know how huge I want to get. I know you’ve spotted some of the clothes I’ve been buying recently,” Jay smiled.
“Yeah, those sweatpants you bought the other day…” Matt nodded knowingly. “They were something else!”
Jay beamed with pride. “Aren’t they just!” he chuckled. “So why don’t you tell me, seriously,” he insisted. “How do you really feel about me getting so fat that I could actually wear pants like that?”
Matt considered his answer, knowing how upfront and honest they were both trying to be that evening. “Excited,” he replied simply. “Really turned on by it.”
“So, would you be willing to help me with getting there?” Jay asked.
Matt knew what Jay was asking of him and he sighed at the hard choice he was having to make. “I really want to,” he admitted, rubbing Jay’s rounded gut and admiring the tight softness. “It’s been so difficult trying to hold myself back sometimes.”
“Then stop,” Jay shrugged. “You know that I’m doing this, with or without your help.”
The two men looked at each other with true honesty in their eyes. “Okay,” Matt smiled at last. “Okay, I’ll.. try.”
Jay beamed brightly and slouched his fat body into the tortured couch, placing his limp hands at his side and opening his mouth, waiting. “No time like the present. It is my birthday, after all!”
Matt, who had not been anticipating such an immediate start, fumbled slightly, not knowing what to do as he picked up a doughnut from the table. “Are you sure you’re ready?” he asked nervously.
Jay nodded, raising his eyebrows with excitement, but did not close his mouth as the doughnut was dangled so wonderfully close to his face.
With the doughnut in his hand, Matt pressed it into Jay’s greedy mouth. The boy moaned in appreciation and took as large a bite as he could. The sound was instantly arousing. Already he felt the sugar uncomfortably sticking to his fingers. By the time the third bite came along, he knew the remaining piece was too big, but pushed it into Jay’s mouth anyway; making the fat boy’s cheeks swell with fattening dough and sugar. Yet, still the glutton gorged, sucking the sugar off Matt’s fingers as soon as he possibly could. This was hot!
Jay’s hand reached towards the hunk’s crotch, feeling the arousal his part in the feeding had given him. Then he smirked gleefully. There was no hiding anything now as they both undressed entirely. “Feed me another,” he demanded.
Matt did as he was told, picking up more confidence with each fresh doughnut he pushed into the horny boy’s mouth. Seeing sugar glistening on the glutton’s cheeks, the arousal in his eyes; the pleasure he took from drawing this side of Matt out.
“Am I a good piggy?” Jay asked teasingly,sucking on Matt’s hardness as the doughnuts were all finished at last.
Moaning softly, feeling his dick getting sticky from the fat guy’s sugary saliva, Matt nodded in agreement. Had Jay really just referred to himself as a ‘piggy’?
“Say it then,” Jay demanded, letting his hand take over for the few seconds he needed his mouth to talk. “Tell me what a good, fattening pig I am.”
Matt’s brain was foggy with lust. He could tell that Jay was already holding back, not allowing him to climax just yet. “You’re a good piggy,” he heard himself saying, worrying that he could ejaculate the moment he felt the words leaving his mouth. “And I do want you get fatter,” he admitted. “I always have.”
“Prove it then,” Jay suddenly demanded, slipping his mouth and hands away from Matt’s hardness; cutting him off in an instant.
“How?” Matt asked, having been so close to finishing before this abrupt stop.
“The refrigerator,” Jay simply replied; smirking in triumph.
Matt knew in an instant what he needed to do. He headed straight over and collected Jay’s calorie shake from the cool refrigerator and held it in his hands, about to become the world’s biggest hypocrite after everything he had said about these things.
“What do you want me to do?” asked a super horny birthday boy, laying back again and letting the fat splay into the seat once more.
“I want you to drink it,” Matt replied, already unscrewing the lid.
“What’s it going to do to me?” Jay whispered next, savouring the kinky moment between them both.
“It’s going to make you fatter,” Matt smiled back, so happy to be drawn into the game; so happy that he was doing this at last.
Matt stepped closer to the fat boy and then sat beside him, using his free hand to jiggle the immense softness that had enveloped Jay’s torso, whilst kissing him deeply. Then, just as Jay was really getting into it, he lifted his free hand up and gently rocked the boy’s head backwards so that his mouth pointed towards the ceiling, in position for the pouring.
“Are you ready, Piggy?” Matt asked, finally unleashing his true self. “It’s time to grow for me…”
Jay’s eyes were dancing with excitement as they drifted from his feeder’s gaze and up towards the ominously held jug of calorie shake looming above his head. Then, just like that, his mouth opened wider than Matt had ever seen it go before.
Matt couldn’t put his finger on when exactly he came, but he knew he hadn’t been done pouring. His fat boy had slipped his pudgy, sweaty hand onto his hardness and tugged at it; pushed it right into his giant, jiggling stomach, until Matt could stand it no longer. His orgasm had been years in the making and he moaned louder than any of his former lovers had ever heard him.
A new beast had just been unleashed.
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justlemmeadoreyou · 14 days
Text
2. the offer (restaurant owner!harry x chef!y/n)
(part 1 here)
summary: as you settle into the grueling routine at Haus, you find yourself seeking out any moment of praise or feedback from harry. you two develop an understanding, but it's still hard to focus when he's being...him. safe to say, it ends contrary to what you would have done if you were still the 16-year old smitten fangirl.
words: 5k
warnings: flirtations, some inappropriate behaviour, cursing
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
finally managed to use this pic in a fic!
***
"Keep your eyes on your own work, newbie!" Thomason's gruff yell made you jump, nearly burning your knuckles on the hot grill. 
You whipped your head around guiltily to see the grumpy head chef scowling at you from across the kitchen line. His eyes followed your sheepish gaze to where you had been not-so-secretly watching Harry chatting easily with the maître d' by the kitchen's swing doors.
Feeling your cheeks get hot, you stammered an apology to Thomason before fully focusing on the sizzling food under your tongs. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the burly man roll his eyes in disgust before barking at someone else down the line.
Ever since that surprisingly nice interaction with Harry a few nights ago, you found your wandering thoughts kept getting...preoccupied whenever you had a free moment. You hated to admit it, but some unprofessional part of you kept replaying his words praising your potential while those kaleidoscope green eyes held your gaze with seeming sincerity.
Just remembering the slight rasp of his voice was enough to give you butterflies in your stomach anytime Harry was nearby. You tried to push those feelings down with shame, scolding yourself for entertaining even a hint of inappropriate conduct.
This was your dream job, your long-awaited chance to finally prove yourself in a real professional kitchen. Getting distracted by your silly childhood crush could derail everything you'd worked so hard for.
But despite your internal pep talks, you couldn't quite shake the electrifying tingles that spread through your body whenever Harry was within fifteen feet of you. As embarrassing as it was to admit, just his nearness alone was enough to make you flustered.
You blinked hard and refocused with renewed determination on assembling the line of beautifully seared steaks. Keep your head down, you firmly reminded yourself. Don't mess this up over some silly fantasies about your boss!
As if testing your resolve, you looked up from garnishing the plates to see Harry striding through the pass, easy grin in place. He opened his mouth to speak to one of the sauce cooks but seemed to notice you watching. His lips curved a bit smugger as his jade eyes met yours from across the sizzling line.
With a subtle but obvious look up and down your body, Harry winked before turning to murmur his instructions. Your heart nearly stopped in your chest as an unexpected spike of nerves shot through you.
Was...was Harry actually flirting with you? Or had you just been so obviously drooling over him that he was amused to throw you a bone? Your face burned as you ruthlessly shook the thoughts away. 
In any case, this was no time for getting flustered - the height of Friday night dinner service was upon you. With sheer willpower, you blocked out everything except perfectly executing each plate and order. Harry Styles was now off-limits in your mind.
Until, that is, you heard Thomason's gravelly shout over the din: "Styles! We need you over here!"
You risked a quick glance to see the head chef gesturing for Harry's attention from across the kitchen. With one last considering look in your direction, Harry sauntered over to join Thomason at the expo station just as the evening's first orders began flying in.
You watched, trying to be subtle, as Harry fell effortlessly into the choreographed rush. He moved with an easy confidence as he inspected each dish, adding a sauce here, delicately plating a garnish there. His broad shoulders flexed under his snug black t-shirt as he reached over cooks, communicating with nudges and gestures.
This kitchen was clearly his domain; Harry commanded the space with the born ease of a natural leader. You stared, captivated by the smooth fluidity of his motions, the barely contained power in his lean, tall frame. It was mesmerizing watching him work like a master conductor.
Without seeming to think about it, Harry's brow would furrow in concentration whenever a plate arrived at his station. His gaze would rove over each element, those full pink lips pursing as he scrutinized the arrangement intensely. There was something utterly gripping about watching him wield that intense focus on each dish, his large hands deft and precise.
Your mouth went dry as you caught the shift of taut forearm muscles beneath tanned skin as Harry wiped an artistic streak of sauce. He gave a curt nod to Thomason, his chiseled jawline tightening in approval.
You realized this raw charisma and talent was putting on an entrancing performance for you...almost like a private show if you let your thoughts wander inappropriately. Smacking your forehead sharply, you earned a concerned side-eye from a nearby cook. Yanking yourself back to the present, you redoubled your focus on the tickets before you. No more watching Harry, not when you couldn't afford a single mistake.
Despite your best efforts, the rest of the evening flew by in a blur. You cooked and plated automatically with precision...yet couldn't stop tracking Harry in your peripheral vision. 
You saw him ducking out to handle a special order, then return with a rare olive oil for a dish alteration. You watched him joking with the bread server before snatching a buttery roll to taste the fresh bake. No matter where you turned, Harry always seemed to orbit nearby, that addictive charisma and easy grace undercutting your indifference attempts.
By the time Thomason finally called for station breakdown, your knees wobbled from the marathon stress combined with subtle Harry overload. You couldn't even feel good about handling such intensity because you were so emotionally drained.
As the crew began the process of cleaning and sanitizing, you heard a polite throat clearing behind you. You turned, already flushing, to find Harry watching you with an unreadable expression.
"Uh, hey," you croaked, shocked at your own cracking confidence around him. Harry arched one perfect brow but said nothing, seemingly waiting for you to gather yourself.
You swallowed hard before trying again. "Was...was there something you needed, Harry? I'm just about to start shutting everything down."
A slow grin spread across his lips as his eyes crinkled at the corners. For a strangely open moment, you felt like you could see straight into Harry's core - the intelligence and intensity normally hidden behind his lazy facade.
"You did brilliant tonight, you know?" he murmured, looking you up and down consideringly. "Thomason worked you hard, we all did - but you kept steady through the chaos no matter what."
Your stomach clenched with surprise at his open praise, tingling warmth blossoming outwards.
"O-oh. Um, thank you?" You winced at how flustered and uncertain you sounded.
But Harry's smile only deepened as he took an unhurried step towards you, decreasing the distance to mere inches. You could now catch the woodsy, leathery notes of his cologne taunting your senses.
"Nothing uncertain about it," he murmured, voice lowering an octave. His eyes traveled over your face before lingering on your chest. You felt unable to breathe under that smoldering gaze. "You're really getting the hang of this kitchen, aren't you?"
Despite your racing pulse, you bristled slightly at the implication. "Well, I still have a long way to go to be the cook you and Thomason are."
Those full lips curved at one corner. "True - but we both see the potential there, don't we?" Harry's voice had taken on a low, gravelly timbre that made something in your belly stir.
He took another casual step forward, crowding you back until the counter dug into your thighs. This close, you could see the gold and amber flecks in his green irises, feel the clean warmth of his body heat between you.
"You've got a long road ahead," he continued, so close now his words rasped against the side of your neck. "But I'd be lying if I said I haven't noticed how quickly you're accelerating."
The way he said that last word made you shiver despite the kitchen's heat. Harry's gaze dipped to your parted lips, then flicked back up, intense.  
"Tell me," he said in that same rumbling baritone. "Would you be open to my...personal mentorship? I could help get you up to speed even faster."
His meaning slammed into you like a shove. Was Harry...propositioning you? In an utterly inappropriate way that could get you fired?
Heart pounding, you could only gape at him, at a total loss. Part of you screamed at how wildly wrong this was, how you needed to shut it down immediately. This was your celebrity chef boss, for God's sake!
And yet, another part of you was utterly enthralled by the clear want in Harry's gaze, the visceral attraction crackling between you. All you'd need is to give a single nod and you could potentially experience pleasures you'd only fantasized about with one of the world's most desirable men...
Harry must have seen the conflict on your face because his lips twitched in a knowing smirk. Another half step forward brought your bodies almost flush, the hard planes of his chest brushing against your soft curves through his thin t-shirt. Your breath caught at the heated friction.
"Tell you what," Harry purred, his voice thick with suggestion. "Take a nice, hot shower after your shift tonight. Really think over my offer while you're alone."
With a searing look that felt X-rated, Harry reluctantly leaned back, restoring a sliver of propriety between you. Still, he held your heated stare as he reached out with one large hand and trailed his fingertips feather-light down your flushed cheek.
The barely-there caress sparked tingles everywhere. Your lips parted helplessly on a silent gasp as every nerve ending in your body felt sensitive.
A devilish glint sparked in Harry's eyes at your reaction. With a final wink, he turned to saunter off through the kitchen doors. You watched him go in a stupefied daze, unable to process anything beyond the strong throb now pulsing between your thighs.
What...had just happened? Your brain whirred trying to comprehend what precipitated that completely unprofessional come-on. Had you unconsciously encouraged Harry's advances somehow? Led him to believe you were open to that kind of...inappropriate relationship?
The mere thought of anyone perceiving you as willing to use your sexuality to get ahead made your stomach churn with shame. You had worked too damn hard to get here - you wouldn't risk tanking it all for some secret fling!
Yet a tiny part of you couldn't stop replaying Harry's scent, the timbre of his voice calling you "pet"...the unmistakable promise of illicit thrills in his heated gaze. You gave yourself a harsh internal shake, appalled that you could be so quickly led astray by such baseless temptation.  
Steadying your breathing, you forced yourself to refocus on meticulously cleaning your station. One step at a time, that was all you could think about. Allow yourself to get distracted by Harry's appeal and you were doomed.
Though it took every ounce of willpower, you managed to lose yourself in the monotony of scrubbing and sanitizing. The rhythmic motions gradually purged those unwelcome jolts of arousal, until you felt more like yourself again.
Some twisted part of you couldn't resist a bitter laugh. As if Harry Styles, world-famous millionaire, would ever seriously pursue someone like you. No, whatever sparked that bold flirtation, it was undoubtedly just him amusing himself by yanking your chain hard. 
Shaking your head disgustedly, you stacked your clean pans. This kind of negative self-talk was just as unproductive as indulging fantasies. Squaring your shoulders, you decided to follow Harry's advice - a hot shower was wise after a shift like tonight, then straight to bed.
Tomorrow was a new day to refocus and earn your place, plain and simple. As you hung up your apron, you resolved to greet Harry with a clear head, a smile, and firm professional boundaries from now on. Time to nip this nonsense.
Unfortunately, maintaining those boundaries proved far easier said than done. Over the next couple weeks, it seemed like Harry launched a campaign to slowly chip away at your sense of propriety.
It was like a game, seeing how far he could push before you combusted. Every time you'd settle back into your usual groove, Harry would level you with flirtatious comments.
Like when you restocked the walk-in shelves, so focused you didn't hear the door open behind you. The first hint of no longer being alone was the heat of Harry's chest against your back, molding from shoulder to hip.
His raspy exhale ghosted your neck as he purred, "Need any...extra hands to reach those hard-to-reach places, love?"
You nearly jumped out of your skin at the suggestive comment. Whirling around, you found yourself centimeters from his chiseled jaw, close enough to feel his amused chuckle.
He took a single step back, eyes shamelessly roving over your body before meeting your gaze, one eyebrow arched invitingly. You could only gape, robbed of coherent thoughts.
"I-I didn't hear you come in," you eventually stammered, trying in vain to will your blush away.    
Harry simply tipped you a wink before squeezing past you through the narrow opening, his body dragging against yours with every micro-movement. By the time he sauntered out whistling, you were gripping the shelves to keep upright.
It wasn't just the innuendos and lingering looks Harry leveled at you that made you feel like you were losing it. He'd instigate small, casual intimacies while you worked, completely eroding your focus.
Like when you labored over a roulade during prep, Harry hovered at your shoulder to murmur appreciated groans about "how good you are at working that lengthy meat with your bare hands."
You froze, blood rushing to your cheeks as Harry's heated gaze bore into you. His lips twitched as he deliberately looked you up and down, taking in your flushed throat. 
"Among other things," he added in a tone dripping with innuendo, making you nearly drop the roulade. Harry threw you a scorching look before sauntering off, leaving you flustered.
Another time, you garnished a plate when you felt Harry's hard body press against your back. His large hands caged you in as he leaned down. You froze, breath catching, as his nose skimmed along your neck to the soft spot beneath your ear.
"Mmm, you smell delicious," Harry rumbled, his gravelly voice sparking tingles everywhere his warm breath hit. "I could just eat you up, petal."
You barely suppressed a whimper at the heated promise in his tone, squeezing your thighs together as arousal flooded you. Harry chuckled low, leaving you feverish and shaky after brushing his lips along your ear.
Moments like these rapidly became the norm - heated glances, suggestive remarks laced with innuendo, lingering casual touches far past professional boundaries. It left you feeling unmoored and disoriented, certain the prize was something deliriously illicit.
You tried to shut it down at first, offering polite reminders about conduct. But Harry only grinned, as if you barely registered. "Relax, love. Harmless flirting between coworkers never hurt anyone."  
As the incidents persisted, your token protests grew weaker. Though you refused to admit it, some part of you began craving Harry's heated focus and suggestive teasing like an addiction.
He always paid you those inappropriate compliments while deeply engrossed in showpiece cooking. As if he derived pleasure from flustering you amid such intense artistry. 
Truthfully, it did add an undercurrent of charged tension to mundane tasks - feeling Harry's eyes tracking your hands as you worked, knowing he was eye-undressing you. Though you refused to meet his gaze, a delicious shiver inevitably rippled through you.
He'd hover nearby with a murmured narration: "Oh yeah, petal...use both hands to really get a good grip on that shaft...fucking gorgeous watching you stroke it like that..."
No matter how disciplined you tried to be, Harry's sly innuendo always made your mind race with X-rated visuals of intimacy. You'd bite your cheek to keep from whimpering, consumed by arousal and shame equally.
By the time work ended each night, you felt punch-drunk and disoriented, like you'd run an erotic marathon. More than once, Harry would further mercilessly bait you in those vulnerable moments.
"You look thoroughly debauched, petal," he'd purr, eyes burning into yours before dragging down your sweat-dampened form. "Care to skip the hot shower and come home with me instead? I'll give those talented hands a real workout..."  
You swore Harry could make any phrase sound filthy. On too many nights, you fled to your car - face flushed, breath uneven, core throbbing - envisioning how those invitations might unfold.
In quieter moments, bitter self-recrimination was your companion. How had you let yourself become such a pathetic, distracted mess over meaningless flirting? No matter how heated Harry's stares felt, he was your famous boss while you were nobody.  
Your entire career and reputation rested on maintaining a strict professional boundary, no matter how electrifying and tempting your boss's overt sexuality. You resolved on more than one drive home to simply start shutting things completely down as soon as inappropriate comments began, no matter how intoxicating they felt.
Sadly, as soon as you stepped back into the thick of Harry's potent charisma and sensual magnetic field, your willpower tended to erode embarrassingly fast. 
One morning during a high-stress meal prep, you trudged towards the walk-in in search of more chives. Harry looked up sharply from his sauce station as you passed his station and snagged your wrist to halt you. The unexpected gesture made you jump, and you whirled to find his  eyes already roving hungrily over you.
"Wait," he rumbled, not bothering with any professionalism as his heated stare settled on your lips. Before you could question him, Harry tugged you flush against the long hard planes of his body, caging you against his workstation with his pelvis slotted snugly between your thighs.
The sheer eroticism of that ardent man-handling and friction punched the breath from your lungs. You could only stare up at Harry with wide, lust-blown eyes, momentarily bemused into stillness as his forearm came to rest beside your head, his deliciously musky sandalwood scent surrounding you in an intoxicating cloud.
"You've got a smear of sauce right..." Harry breathed against your mouth, so close now you could taste the earthy spice on his warm breath. His free hand came up to cup your jaw tenderly, rough thumb swiping out to trace the seam of your parted lips. "Here."
Your chest heaved against his in tiny, panting gasps. Any remaining illusion of boundary, lay in crumbling ruins around your feet. There was no mistaking Harry's seduction for mere playful teasing at this proximity, and indecency.
This was him finally making his play, naked want and desire radiating off his tall frame in scorching waves as his searing gaze clung to your mouth. Every ounce of blood in your body rushed straight between your thighs in anticipation.
You remained utterly motionless, rendered speechless and hyper-focused entirely on the sizzling feedback of sensation Harry's proximity inspired. He was absolutely everywhere - the heat of his body seeping under your skin, the slow rhythmic rise and fall of his chest brushing against yours, the gravelly white noise of his ragged breathing surrounding your senses.
Every rational thought in your mind screamed at you to gather some shred of control and push him away, firmly shut this down before it escalated further than you could ever recover from. But you remained frozen in place, utterly possessed by the intoxicating anticipation of what those plump, virile lips would feel like finally slanting over your own.
Just as your last vestiges of propriety and worry threatened to shatter, a ringing clatter of trays against metal echoed in the hallway. Both of you jumped as if electrocuted, the tension between your pressed bodies dissipating in an instant as reality came crashing back. You stumbled backwards, putting several feet between you, just as one of the prep cooks rounded the corner lugging a heavy trolley.
Harry cleared his throat roughly and shifted to put more workspace between you, drawing in a deep, steadying breath. The aborted moment seemed to penetrate the fog of arousal, harsh light returning to his dilated emerald eyes as they flickered across you. You wrapped your arms around your midsection defensively, suddenly feeling small and skittish under the weight of his palpable discomfort.
The prep cook sailed by with a polite nod, oblivious to the fraught tableau he'd interrupted. As soon as he rounded the corner again, Harry shook his head and grasped the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing his eyes shut in clear frustration.
You watched with bated breath, anxiety coiled in your belly, as he seemed to wrestle with some internal dilemma. When Harry finally opened his eyes again, the naked hunger that had consumed him only moments ago was carefully veiled once more behind that affable, dimpled mask.
"Bloody hell," he muttered, more to himself than you. Straightening, Harry met your uncertain gaze head-on, his own shuttered and inscrutable. "That was...completely out of line. Unprofessional of me."
Your heart stammered in your chest at the curt dismissal, warm arousal rapidly cooling into brittle rejection. Of course this had all been a mere game to Harry, one he lost interest in as soon as the threat of consequences loomed. You were such a fool to have let yourself get caught up in the fantasy.
Fighting to keep your expression neutral, you gave a small, tight nod. "It's alright, Harry. I understand. We got...carried away there for a moment." The flimsy excuse felt pathetic even to your own ears, but you pressed on. "It won't happen again, I can assure you."
Something flickered behind Harry's gaze at your reassurance, though you couldn't parse its meaning. He maintained the weighted silence for a heavy pause before finally replying.
"See that it doesn't," he replied evenly, a subtle edge to his deep timbre. "We're professionals in a workplace, after all. No matter what harmless games we play at, I'd hate to see you get...distracted from your goals here, petal."
You flinched at the petname, once again. Color bloomed hot across your cheeks at the insinuation that you would be the one unable to draw the line between flirtation and flat-out unprofessional conduct.
Disappointment and shame swirled sickeningly in your gut alongside lingering arousal. Before you could formulate a response, Thomason's bellow echoed across the kitchen, shockingly close. "Oi! Either get back to your stations or take the grope fest to the alley already! Some of us got shit to do today!"
If you thought you were flushed before, it was nothing compared to the full-body conflagration sparked by the head chef's words. You opened and closed your mouth soundlessly, utterly mortified at being caught out in such compromising circumstances, as Thomason stomped closer into view with a disgusted scowl. 
"What the fuck are you two playing at, huh?" he demanded gruffly, stabbing an accusatory finger first at you then Harry. "Styles, I expected this kind of shitty lack of focus from a prima donna rock star jackass - but you?" He swung his narrowed glare your way, making you shrink back involuntarily. "If you want to keep getting world-class knowledge dropped on your dumb ass, try keeping it in your goddamn pants around the maestro for five fucking minutes!"
If possible, your flush deepened even further at his harsh reprimand. Shame roiled nauseously as you struggled to meet Thomason's furious glare, much less Harry's eerily impassive one. This was it, the humiliating moment you'd been dreading - getting outed as just another silly starstruck girl unable to rein in inappropriate impulses around her famous boss.
Just as you began mentally drafting your letter of resignation, Harry finally broke the tension by letting out a low chuckle. You shot him an incredulous glance, but he simply shook his head, dimples creasing his cheeks ruefully. Raising placating hands, he turned to the seething Thomason with an engaging grin.
"Easy there, Paulie. No need to get your apron twisted, nothing skeevy going on here I assure you." Dropping one hand to your shoulder, Harry gave it a firm squeeze, muscles in his bicep flexing enticingly. "Our young prodigy and I were just engaged in a bit of innocent culinary mentorship. You know how hands-on and intense those private tutorials can get."
His lascivious emphasis made it clear there was nothing 'innocent' about the nature of contact you'd nearly devolved into. But Thomason seemed to relax marginally all the same, giving a grunt of grudging acceptance.
"Fine, but keep your dick out of the dough while you're on my clock, capisce?" he growled at Harry, ignoring your scandalized gasp as he turned on his heel to stomp away. "Christ, I feel like I'm running a fucking fry shack instead of a Michelin kitchen..."
You watched his retreating back, utterly stunned into speechlessness by the unbelievable turn of events. Was...that seriously it? Harry had just implicitly outed your unprofessional indiscretion, and the consequences amounted to mild ribbing and a halfhearted reprimand?
Slowly, you pivoted to face Harry once more, utterly at a loss. His hand was still a scorching brand on the cool exposed skin of your shoulder, eyes glinting with that same indefinable mischief you'd witnessed him deploying to charm countless others.
As if sensing where your thoughts were headed, Harry quirked a knowing smile before finally withdrawing his touch. "Don't look so stricken, love. Paulie likes to play the crusty hardass, but far as he's concerned - as long as the work gets done right, whatever happens off the clock is nobody's business but our own."
His emphasis on those last few words rang with clear unspoken suggestion. But unlike before, you felt firmly centered in yourself enough to shake off any arousal. Lifting your chin defiantly to meet his smoldering gaze, you replied in a low, measured tone:
"Then with all due respect, Harry...I believe I'll pass."
For the first time all evening, the suave restaurateur looked briefly taken aback. You refused to let the flicker of uncertainty show as you pressed on, keeping your voice carefully modulated.
"I've put in far too much time and hard work getting here to jeopardize it all over some...tawdry infatuation. So while I'm flattered by the attention, and your willingness to keep things discreet, I have to draw the line at anything more than a professional mentorship."
Harry's eyes narrowed fractionally, clearly unaccustomed to such outright rejection. You refused to quail, squaring your shoulders as you laid it all on the table.
"My dreams are bigger than being another disposable conquest for my famous boss to slum with in secret. If you can't see me as more than that...well then, I wish you the very best. But our relationship can only be strictly chef-to-chef from here on out."
You paused to let the weight of your impassioned words hang between you, searching Harry's expression for any flicker of reaction. For several tense moments, the only sounds were the distant murmurings of kitchen noises and your own thundering pulse.
Then, as if an invisible switch clicked, Harry's stony demeanour melted away - replaced by a look of grudging amusement and what could only be begrudging respect. The familiar dimples you adored so much reappeared as his lips curved into a wry half-smile.
"I see," he replied at last, voice low and considering. "Well then. If those are your terms, I can hardly expect any less from such an admirably principled young chef, can I?"
Another beat passed between you, the tension slowly bleeding out to be replaced with the subtlest charge of intrigue. Harry's emerald gaze roamed over you in a way that felt far more evaluative than outright sensual before he spoke again.
"Very well then. A professional mentorship it shall be, with all the rigor and boundaries that implies. But make no mistake..." Here his lips stretched into a lopsided smirk that somehow felt both conspiratorial and vaguely provocative. "I expect you to rise to every challenge and be an exceptionally eager pupil, my dear."
You couldn't quite suppress the shiver that rippled through you at his lilting promise, despite your best efforts. If anything, the glint in Harry's eye only sharpened at your reaction, his grin taking on a hint of satisfaction.
Wanting to flee the weighted tension before it could reset that dangerous gravitational pull between you, you quickly gave a curt nod before turning on your heel to walk away. "Then we have an understanding. I won't let you down, Chef.”
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
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nouvellevqgue · 15 days
Text
IT GIVES YOU WINGS OR LOVE?
pairing: max verstappen x redbull athlete!reader
summary: summary: sometimes, the team that brought you in, could also gives you more opportunity to even meet your lover there.
note: they're unserious, nothing was actually romantic based on my perspective.
taglist: @queenofmanydreams @muglermami @4limq @avengers-assemble123456 @cabbyhabs @meowtastick @4mula-1 @miarabanana @amel1ee @dinosushilun1 @auggieblogs @namgification @charli123456789 @cherry-piee
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yourusername
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liked by redbull and 237,144 others
yourusername Woohoo !!! SO hyped to grab 🥈 at my first slopestyle World Cup since the 2022 Olympics. Genuinely had so much fun out there today. Congrats to everyone for the insane level of riding, and thank you, as always, to the supporters for all the love ❤️ A few areas need a bit of work still, but none more than my champagne skills 🥴
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redbull Super proud of you, Y/n! 😍
username there's something about redbull athletes and winning and i can't really put my finger on it...
maxverstappen1 Proud ❤️
username What is this motherly comments, Max
username MAX LATE COMMENTING????
username Rb downfall is real y'all
username rb downfall is started from max late commenting?
username That's a sign too
username I'm planning our wedding as we speak
redbullsnow It was magnificent
landonorris ahem, probably i can teach you my *signature* champagne pop
yourusername Hmm, but I don't want to destroy anybody's trophy though
username 💀💀💀💀
username OKAY OKAY WE GET IT
username until now i'm still questioning on how did he pulled this baddie
username I really need to see her with another Red Bull athletes out there
username her bf is literally max verstappen
username wait fr?
username She literally confess it in GMA, how's that fake?
username PR relationship is real yk...
username RENEW YOUR CONTRACT, MOTHER
username istg she looks like lily's lost twin
username At least she's not dutch, I'm with her
username why? what's wrong with being dutch?
username I'M TIRED OF HEARING THEIR NATIONAL ANTHEM OKAY LEAVE ME ALONE
username naw brother, prepared to hear them national anthem at the same time
yourusername
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yourusername Celebratory lunch + A lil hair touchup 😆
view all 1,589 comments
username Ahem... No pic cred?
username I think you forgot to dry your hair
yourusername My stomach's grumbling so loud already, I can't hold it anymore to even dry my hair 😂
username UGH SHE'S SO PRETTYYY 😍😍
username PLS SAY YOU WILL RENEW YOUR CONTRACT
maxverstappen1 Don't forget to spare me some 🍴🍴
yourusername How cliché of you to comment this while eating my sushi 🤨
username HER SUSHI 😭😭
username Max late commenter is back but not with his motherly comments, but with a LIE who is now debunked by his own girlfriend
maxverstappen1 I thought she wouldn't reply to this
username better not to lie to a skier
username All of these were very much so obvious. You guys don't have to act like doing a soft launch when she already dropped a literal bomb to confess that she's dating Max in GMA
username heart eyes heart eyes heart eyes heart eyes heart eyes heart eyes heart eyes heart eyes heart eyes
username I want to be her gf 😭😭😭
username You're unreal OMG
maxverstappen1
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maxverstappen1 Flexing master #TiffanyPartner #TiffanyHardwear
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yourusername I agreed to post here but what was the caption supposed to mean?
username It's giving Lily + Albon's dynamic
username Max influencer era is here and ready
username I want that hand to choke me
yourusername Whoa
username Istg she looks like a carbon copy of @lilymhe period.
username omg max is stealing her endorsement????
landonorris okay. the trial's over, let's make your own jpg account.
maxverstappen1 Wait, really?
landonorris no, just baiting.
username WHY IS HE SO ANNOYING 😭😭😭😭
username supportive bf max is my new favorite gender
username Who taught him to be like this?
alex_albon He's definitely has attended Alex Albon school of boyfriendery
username how come did her hair never looked the same in every frame she's in?
username but the hair color remain consistent till the end of the day
maxverstappen1 Drafts do exist, you know.
username OO ENDED THEM
username pls do a tutorial on how to make your fingers as long as hers
username I bet that is not Max's hand
username Break the bet, it is not
redbullracing · 24m
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yourusername Truly enjoying my paddock debut here. Thank you @redbullracing for the invitation, definitely having much fun in Shanghai 🥰
view all 973 comments
username Me and the bad bitch I pulled after being WDC:
username LILY GO BACK TO ALEX'S GARAGE
username Rb couple domination is real
username Max: 🧍
username you guys better believe when they said red bull enjoyer belong, they were.
lilymhe Why are you guys looks so stiff? 💀
yourusername Wait until I asked him to go skiing. Let's see how stiff he would be.
maxverstappen1 NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
username Can't wait to see Max skiing with her. Wonder if his skiing skill has improved ever since he's with her.
username next stop: the alps
username Oh it's her paddock debut? I thought I have seen her attending gp in Ausgp?
username That time she wasn't his gf just yet
alexandrasaintmleux Ahhh your fit is so cutee <3
yourusername YOURS TOOOOO 🌹🥺
username QUEEN IS BACK IN TOWN, SLAYING AS USUAL
username Whys your paddock pass looks different from the rest of the WAGS?
yourusername I was invited by @redbullracing as a guest. So that's why mine's different 💁🏼‍♀️
username Why would they invite you as a guest when you're already his gf tho😂
username Can you stop asking?
maxverstappen1
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liked by yourusername and 463,197 others
maxverstappen1 Alps: Day 1 ⛷️
view all 1,638 comments
username Wait why is it different?
maxverstappen1 Sometimes, one of us played it harshly and losing the original glasses. So we bought it new.
username AND IT ISN'T YOU??!?? OMG
username Awwww if my relationship not this sweet, I don't want it.
username Y/N WITHOUT HER RB STICKER HELMET AND ATTRIBUTES??? WOWOWOW
username mother and father🥴🥴🥴
username They're cute asf
carlossainz55 What a good day for a ski couples
username probably i should drink red bull to have someone like them
danielricciardo Who wins?
yourusername We're both... Losing, actually
danielricciardo I KNEW IT
yourusername
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yourusername Turns out, he's not that bad of a skier too.
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maxverstappen1 Hey, I don't look like that
maxverstappen1 How could you do this after I posted out sweet moments yesterday
maxverstappen1 What is this betrayal
username Alright Granny, let's get you to bed
username WHO'S THAT ON THE SECOND SLIDEEEEEE
charles_leclerc What was that outfits 😂😂
yourusername Don't say as if your fits were not like that
charles_leclerc Mine's fashionable, sorry.
lilymhe Fashionable just for leo's eyes
username i love how contrast their posts are. ah soulmate
username I want what they're having toooooo
username His digital footprints is something that I have to go for a dig
username Well apparently the both of them were losing
username says who?
username Daniel and Y/n on Max's post
username I know they were never gonna be the best at competing at each other
username if their relationship was really a pr, i don't believe it
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disasterofastory · 8 months
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Another night (Brahms Heelshire x Reader)
Another night // Brahms Heelshire Masterlist Brahms Heelshire x Reader Kinktober 2023 - 3/14 Warnings: some somnophilia, a bit dub-c
Summary: Brahms needs you while you are asleep.
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The old wooden floor creaks under his weight as he steps out of his hiding place behind the closet. The ground is cold under his feet, and a shiver runs through his bare upper body at the feeling. The only thing keeping him warm, barely, is his pajama pants hanging loose around his lean waist. The gray fabric highlights the thickness of his thighs and the curve of his ass. His hair is a mess of curls from tossing and turning for long hours without getting any sleep because of the obvious tent between his legs. The silvery hue of the moon highlights his face, which was marked by the fire long ago, and the thin layer of sweat shining on his heated skin. A drop runs down his temple, disappearing in his beard when a quiet whine breaks free from his tightened throat. His abs clench at the renewed throbbing in his pants.
His dark gaze falls on your sleeping form in the middle of the bed. You seem small and vulnerable under the thick covers that hide your body from him. Your hair is a mess on the pillow, and your lips are slightly open as you breathe in and out. You are much more relaxed than Brahms, whose muscles tense and jerk with frustration. The ache of his cock is almost unbearable by now.
The bed dips under his weight as he kneels on the mattress next to you. Tugging down the blanket to your waist, he grabs your hand without a second thought. His chest heaves with excitement and anticipation. Your wrist feels thin and soft in his hold, and your hand almost disappears in his larger one. Your delicate fingers fidget against his warm, sweaty palm. For a second, he wants to lean down and kiss your fingertips, but the urge building in him wins over his softer thoughts.
He can feel his own mess on his other hand when he reaches inside his pants and tugs his erection free. A relieved sigh leaves his lips when the cold air brushes over his heat. The tip of his cock glints with pre-cum, and small, pearly drops flow down his shaft, following the thick lines of his veins pulsing under the soft skin. Scooting closer to your still asleep form, he brings your hands to his cock, making your fingers curl around him and relieve the pressure in his broad chest. Brahms exhales through his nose as he pushes his hips forward in instinct, keeping your hand firmly in his. Your hold is as tight as he wants, but it's not nearly enough to push him over the edge. He feels almost clumsy and definitely desperate as he jerks himself off with your hand.
A low whine trembles through his chest as his gaze falls on you again. Your eyes are still closed. Even though he enjoyed exploring you in the past while you were asleep and didn't know about him, it doesn't please him anymore. He wants to feel you move and look into your eyes as he cums. He wants everything you can give him and more. "Y/N!" He says your name breathlessly. "Y/N!" You hum in answer, still asleep but more aware of your surroundings. A slight frown appears between your brows, and your tongue peaks out as you lick your lips. Brahms groans at the sight. "Y/N!"
The man's mewling voice slowly breaks through the haze of your mind. Your eyelids are heavy as you blink rapidly, trying to get used to the dim moonlight in your room. Your frown deepens as your gaze finds Brahms towering next to you with his dick out and your hand around it. "Brahms!" You gasp, shocked. You try to pull your hand away, but the man doesn't let you. He squeezes your hand, and your fingers around his shaft tighten. Pre-cum drops down from the angry tip of his cock. "What are you doing?" You gasp. "Brahms! Let me go!" The man whines at your angry tone. "It hurts!"
You need to take several deep breaths to calm down while Brahms continues to fuck your hand. Your head still feels dizzy from sleeping and waking up like this. You know Brahms won't let you go until he gets what he wants, and to be honest, you start getting used to his demanding ways when it comes to his needs.
"Okay," you sigh, sitting up to get a better hold of him. "It's okay, Brahms." He mewls in answer, breathing heavily, but he lets you go when he feels you stroking him on your own. His chest stretches with affection as he looks down at you, watching his cock while your hand moves up and down on his shaft. He is hard as a rock under your touch. "Oh," you hum in surprise. "You were really desperate, huh, baby?" He groans at your mocking words, jerking his hips forward. "Y/N!" "It's okay, love," you coo. "I will help you, okay?" "Please," he breathes out. Your hand twists and turns on his erection as you pump him. Your thumb grazes a vein, making him pulse in your hold even more. Your eyes are on the motion the whole time, and you can barely believe yourself when you start to think how pretty Brahms's dick is. Even though he is not the longest you ever had, he is thick with a bulbous head and a pretty pink shade. You can feel the veins on your palm as you move your hand up and down on his shaft. A small, excited smile tugs on the corners of your lips as you think about shaving him. Would he let you? For a second, you think about asking him, but your thoughts are disturbed by his hand on the hem of your shirt. The man pushes up the old fabric until your chest is bare for his hungry eyes. Your breast fits perfectly in his large hand as he gropes and squeezes your flesh. Your nipples graze the center of his palm. "Do you like my tits?" You smirk, looking up at him before snapping your gaze away before he can say anything.
Even though Brahms is much more comfortable around you without his mask on, he still doesn't like you staring at him for too long. He is afraid you will think how hideous he looks and leave him. It's not like he would let you, though.
"Yes," he says. His voice is high, almost begging. "They are so soft." "Not like you, big boy," you reply, gliding your thumb under the tip of his cock. "You are big and hard everywhere, no?" "Yes," he nods rapidly. "You are my big, strong man, aren't you?" "Yes." "Good," you hum, jerking him off faster. Your hand is soaked by his juices. "You are my good boy, Brahmsy." "Yesyesyes," he chants.
When his hand tightens on your breast and pinches on your nipple, you know he is close. You can feel him twitching in your hold, and his balls pull up with the need to shoot his seed.
"Wait," you gasp. "I don't want to clean up after you." "Wha-" His breathless question turns into a guttural moan as you lean closer and take him into your mouth. Your tongue swipes over the tip before sliding down on the underside of his cock. "Y/N!" Brahms moans, snapping his head back. Your breast almost hurts in his vice-like grip.
Even though you knew he was close, feeling him flooding your mouth still surprises you. Your eyes widen as he spurts cum after cum into your mouth while you try to gulp as fast as you can. He is salty and warm on your tongue.
"Good boy," you smile up at him after cleaning up his cock and slowly letting him go when you notice him flinch. "My poor boy is sensitive now, huh?" He nods, barely awake. His whole posture is relaxed and tired. "Come here, love," you tell him, grabbing his hand to guide him down next to you. "Lay down a bit, okay?" At first, you think he will pull away as usual to go back to his room, but he does as you say. Adjusting back his pants, he lies down in your arms, resting his head on your still-bare tits while you play with the dark curls on the nape of his neck. "You are my good boy, Brahms."
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valyrfia · 6 months
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I’ve been thinking about it, and I now firmly believe that Charles signed a pre-contract with Red Bull in the week before COTA. Initially, he did it with the intent of putting pressure on Ferrari but then over the course of the triple header he slowly started to realise that maybe honouring that pre-contract MIGHT be his best chance at a WDC. This is heavily reflected in the socials and PR of Red Bull, Ferrari, and Charles himself and ties together all the Lestappen interactions of the past couple of months from Max’s answers at press conferences to the infamous padel date. Buckle up, because it’s going to be a ride.
So I believe to pinpoint the start of the current PR wave/movement that we've coined as Lestappen Gate 2023 we have to look all the way back to Monza. Around Monza, there were numerous rumours that a huge Charles contract renewal was imminent and it was going to be announced, etc. etc. Charles did put these rumours to bed by saying if there were a contract like the one that had been rumoured, he would've signed it immediately. Now, I believe that with Charles confirmed to be unsigned (at around the same time that the George/Lewis and Oscar renewals would've been happening), Red Bull Racing approached Charles to reopen talks.
But I think Charles stalls them, isn't open to talks, until Singapore where Carlos Sainz wins. This throws Ferrari into complete disarray as Fred suddenly can't open talks with Charles as it would then be clear that he will not be re-signing Carlos Sainz. I think it then becomes obvious to Charles and his team that in order for the contract talks to begin they need pressure to negate Santander and the Sainz family breathing down Ferrari's throat. So Charles actively enters talks with Red Bull with the intent of putting that pressure on Ferrari. Also worth noting, Singapore also marked Charles as something special, a generational talent who is also willing to be an exception n2 driver when the team requires it of him, especially when his teammate starts on pole. I think this makes Red Bull even more eager to begin talks with Charles. Interestingly, this is where we get the first Red Bull Lestappen post of this current era, the Lecstappen alert.
This brings us through Suzuka to Qatar, Max winning his 3rd WDC, Charles congratulating him and then effuse about Max and Red Bull in interviews. Seeing the level of success that Max has had is what pushes Charles to decide that he is going to sign a pre-contract with Red Bull for a seat in 2025 because either way, he wins. He either manages to put pressure on Ferrari to get a contract with all the clauses he wants (external brand deals, his own branding, car development to suit him, etc.) OR he gets the MOST talked about seat in F1.
Now this is a key point. I believe the padel date was an excuse to get Max and Charles in the same room. Specifically, for them to have a frank and honest chat about whether they could work as teammates and two n1 drivers on the same team. This is probably the first serious heart to heart that these two have had, which then explains their attitude and closeness in the triple header and them being more ready to be vulnerable and honest with and about each other. Then, in the week before COTA, satisfied that he could be teammates with Max if push came to shove, Charles Leclerc signs a pre-contract with RBR for 2025.
(It's also worth noticing that in the week before COTA, the Lando Norris to RBR rumours and talk noticeably died down, despite Oscar winning the sprint in Qatar).
Now this brings us to COTA, where Charles instantly starts to make PR moves to build a brand for himself. His first big move is signing with WME, a talent agency, and something that Ferrari drivers typically aren't allowed to do. The WME signing solidifies in my mind that a pre-contract exists, because if there is one thing Charles wouldn't do, it's jeopardise his chances of racing in F1. If there's a chance that Ferrari would drop him for this, he just wouldn't do it. However, if he has a guaranteed seat in 2025 no matter the outcome, he would totally do it. It must be said, I believe that Charles is using the pre-contract fully as leverage against Ferrari at this point UNTIL the strategy fuck up. After the strategy fuck up, Charles is noticeably angry and outspoken about it, and Fred starts to freak out a little bit. RBR in the mean time, are starting to try and change the Lestappen narrative from rivals to a duo, with Charles starting to feature heavily on RBR socials.
Moving on to Mexico, Charles does well, considering. But what's important about Mexico is that this is the first time that Charles has truly been treated like a villain by the fans at the track. This is key, not only because of RBR's reaction to it (which I will explore), but also because this is Charles's first taste of what a move to RBR could be like, of what it would feel like were he to become the antihero rather than the golden boy of F1. However, the real clincher is that rather than RBR playing into the narrative of Charles the villain, even despite him literally being involved in the DNF of their own driver (Checo) at his home race, they instead make sure to capture all angles of Charles and Max interacting and one of their own pays special attention to Charles on the podium. In a way, this is the weekend that shows Charles that even though Red Bull and Ferrari are completely different, Red Bull can still be as much of a family to him as Ferrari has been if he wants them to be. Moreso, in fact, considering Ferrari didn't even bother showing up to Charles's P3 podium.
So entering the weekend in Brazil, Charles is pictured wearing his own clothing line that it was rumoured Ferrari forced him to discontinue and Fred Vasseur is starting to get shit scared and starting to talk to anyone from media who will listen about how talented Charles is. Charles does put it on the front row, but there's no real Forza Ferrari about it, and Charles has stopped wearing Ferrari merch in the paddock. A Red Bull employee (Max's PT Brad) is the first person to congratulate Charles on the front row.
Then, the DNS happens. A completely avoidable thing that happened due to Ferrari incompetency, and all hell breaks loose. Charles leaves the paddock before he can finish his Ferrari PR duties like a post-race video, and makes it very clear that he is FURIOUS in all his interviews. Now, laughably, at this point is when Ferrari-Charles contract negations began, or at least, that's what was leaked to the media. In my mind, Charles communicated very clearly to Fred at this point that his pre-contract with Red Bull is a very real threat, and Charles himself is beginning to seriously consider honouring it, and if Ferraro don't get together, they WILL lose their Il Predestinato to Red Bull. At this moment, Fred Vasseur is absolutely terrified. The world is very obviously on Charles's side and sympathetic after the DNS, while being at best apathetic and at worst hostile toward the Scuderia. Meanwhile, Red Bull continue with their Lestappen antics across all social media channel, again publicising the idea that Max and Charles are close and may have once been rivals but are buddies now, like in their tiktok of Max doing the "just an inchident" trend.
Now I haven't mentioned the onboards yet, which were spotted by some eagle eyes fans during the Mexico and Brazil GP weekends, in which Charles's onboard was displayed very clearly alongside their actual drivers, Max and Checo. But the existence of the onboards on the Red Bull pitwall make perfect sense if Charles did sign a pre-contract. Red Bull are gathering data to sway Charles further, almsot a "yeah so here's exactly where Ferrari fucked your race, and here's is what we would've done differently."
The break in the triple header, Charles is noticeably refraining from Forza Ferrari-ing. Rather, he calls the paps on himself on more than one occasion and make sure he is seen with several high profile celebs, strengthening his public image and building his own narrative. Meanwhile, Ferrari is in full damage control mode, taking responsibility for the DNS, acknowledging Charles in a way they haven't fully done since Singapore. There are more leaks of contract negotiations, but Charles does not engage with them. Meanwhile, Red Bull are keeping up their Lestappen propaganda. Charles is making it clear to all parties that this pre-contract that he initially intended to just be a bargaining chip has suddenly become a serious threat to Ferrari.
Finally, this brings us to last weekend, Vegas. Charles, again, refuses to Forza Ferrari. Ferrari PR have put Charles and Red Bull content on absolute LOCKDOWN with not a HINT of Lestappen anywhere, and Max is making comments about the choice of team being important in winning even for generational talents while Charles fidgets and looks away. Fred praises Charles to hell and back again, implying that Charles will obviously be prioritised over Carlos by diminishing Singapore, but in the post-race, Charles still gives nothing. Just a thinly veiled comment about how good it feels to be fighting at the front again. Meanwhile, Red Bull amp up the Charles content even more, even fully posting a picture just of Charles's car. There are also not one, but two questions about Max and Charles's karting past. In discussion with my academic colleagues (@tsarinablogs, @thearchercore, @gaslightgirlsummer (further thanks for all three of them, for entertaining a much rougher draft of this essay a few days ago)), we've talked about the possibility that these questions might have themselves been planted in the media rooms, in order to further cement the idea and control the narrative of Charles and Max, childhood rivals turned dynamic duo. The sort of narrative one might find intriguing around teammates.
So this concludes my essay. I am almost sure that Charles has a pre-contract with Red Bull, which is why he is suddenly so outspoken about the problems and failings of Ferrari. Although this pre-contract originally began as a bargaining chip, I believe that Charles is seriously considering honouring it. Ferrari are desperate, and Red Bull have the upper hand and are starting to pave the way for a media shift in how Charles and Max as a pairing are perceived.
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remcycl333 · 11 months
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STEP 1 - CHANGE WHAT YOU’RE AWARE OF
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notes from “the creative use of imagination” by neville goddard 🤍
step 0 is to decide what you want. maybe you want money, or a new place to live, or an sp, or physical appearance changes.
step 1: begin to observe those thoughts and reactions towards the thing you want to manifest.
“to arrive at a certain definition of self, you must begin by uncritically observing your automatic reaction to an event, for your reaction defines your state” -NG
throughout this post, I will use the example of physical appearance change.
maybe throughout your day, you see pictures of other people on social media that you view as more attractive as you, and your reaction to that is “I wish I looked like them, this isn’t fair why am i not as attractive as them, what do I need to do to look like them” etc.
or maybe you see yourself in the mirror and you think “god why do i look like that, why am i not attractive? why hasn’t my face changed yet?” Etc
if you were in the state of having your desired physical appearance, would you be reacting that way to your 3D?
the first step to changing our state is to first learn the way our old state behaves and reacts to things. it is our current dwelling state that is reflecting in our 3d right now, and when you stop and observe your reactions to things, it becomes glaringly obvious how they’re creating your 3d. if you’re ruminating on how ugly you think you are all day long, you cannot be surprised when you look in the mirror and are dissatisfied with what you see.
“If you react to that which is being objectified, you bind yourself to a certain level of awareness, but if you refuse to react, the thread is broken.” -NG
“Only by observing your reactions to life can you find yourself.” -NG
how are you supposed to know what state you are in if you don’t observe your reactions? And once you begin to observe your reactions, Neville says you will be shocked by how deceitful you truly are. but he always urges the importance of uncritical observation. you should not shame yourself for what you find, or even feel bad. these observations are simply meant to show you your current state, and the ins and outs of it so you are able to change it more easily.
“always examine yourself uncritically, for the moment you become critical, you automatically justify your reactions and associate yourself with the thing observed.” -NG
once you begin to observe your reactions, you will become more aware of them when they happen. they’ll grow to become uncomfortable and glaring. they will feel like they don’t fit you anymore. maybe before they were just knee-jerk, unconscious reactions, but now you will feel them take up the space in your head whenever they arrive. and because of this, you will be able to shift your awareness to what you really want your 3d to reflect. you will be able to let go of the parts of yourself you no longer wish to identify with.
“be transformed by the renewing of your mind by changing the ideas planted there, for you cannot change your thinking until you change the ideas from which your thoughts flow.” -NG
your state creates your thoughts, not the other way around. it is critical to understand this if you wish to change your dwelling state. your thoughts are not your enemies. if you constantly battle against your thoughts, without ever paying mine to your state, you will not have much success.
“accept an idea as true. identify yourself with it and it will out-picture itself in your world. but if you do not accept the thought and identify yourself with it through feeling, you are free from its results. you must become very selective and learn not to associate yourself with unlovely thoughts.” -NG
this is not to confused with the term “mental diet.” when you react negatively to something, you have two options. 1) beat the thought down and panic and tell yourself the opposite without believing it to be true, or 2) choosing not to identify with it. remind yourself that this thought is just a thought. it has no power over you, and if you don’t want it to be manifested into your reality, it will not. Neville says if you do not consent to a thought as true, it will not manifest into your world. if you don’t associate your inner being with that thought, it will not come to pass in your 3D.
“start now to consent only to lovely thoughts of fulfilled desires prior to their confirmation by your senses, and give up the animal instinct of suffering and bathing yourself in the feelings of hurt and self-pity.” -NG
ruminating in unpleasant thoughts where your desire remain unfulfilled can be comfortable, and even habitual, but at the end of the day it is a choice. a choice that you have to stop making if you truly want better for yourself. this is something I struggled with a lot at the beginning of my manifestation journey. there was some twisted pleasure and comfort found in picking at scabs in my mind, and feeling sorry for myself, and imagining what would happen if my desire was never realized in my 3d. but eventually I had to choose better for myself, and I had to choose to stop giving so much attention to mental conversations like that.
“control your imagination with steady attention and dare to stand and be heard.” -NG
YOU create the happenings of your imagination, and your imagination creates your reality. do not feel silly or foolish deciding better for yourself in your own imagination. and do not let the logical restrictions of the 3d to tell you what you can and can not give yourself in imagination. give yourself what you want in imagination and stand firm in that, even if your 3d shows the opposite. stop silencing yourself in your own imagination!
this is my thoughts and notes only on the first two chapters of “the creative use of imagination” so more may come as I continue my re-read! 🤍 just wanted to share this :)
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nomorethoughts · 4 months
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i’m absolutely loving iskall’s vibe this season! his renewed excitement about hermitcraft is so obvious, and the spontaneous way he’s playing the game is a joy to watch. the extra content on his second channel is just as fun too, and i never knew how much i needed “deleted scenes” style hermitcraft content. his excitement is just so contagious honestly
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jeoseungsaja · 2 years
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Alright but Hyuk visiting Mrs. Nam near the closing shift so she doesn’t have to save and organize and clean everything by herself, and whilst he’s trying to help about, Mrs. Nam asking him if @ofgentleresolve​’s Patrick is more than just a friend because she’s seen how Hyuk looks at him and she’s never seen him so sparkly-eyed before (and she says it with a big smile, because anything that makes Hyuk happy, she welcomes), and Hyuk’s just: 
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“A-Ah, is that so? I, uh...I don’t know, halmeoni. He’s...something like-like that, I...I think? More than just a friend. But I...I...do you...let me wash those for you---” 
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moonkissedvisions · 3 months
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Astrology observations! (Vedic, Western)
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Consider:
• These observations are based on my personal experiences, intuition and knowledge, not research. Use your own discernment.
• I'm not a professional astrologer. I've been learning Western astrology since 2016 and I started learning about Vedic only 2 years ago. Astrology is one of my passions since I was really young but I didn´t focus on it as a profession. You can ask me questions or send me a message ofc :), but I don't offer any astrological readings or give professional advice.
• This is meant to be fun and entertaining, so if I said something that you didn't like or that you disagree with, be kind and don't take it personal. These are just really general observations based on 3-8 examples! If you want, we can discuss anything here as long as you are respectful.
• English is not my first language.
Now let´s read!
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I never experienced true telepathy until I met a Venus conjunct Neptune man. He would look at my face and know exactly what I'm thinking and feeling, and he would be so understanding of it, even when it was something potentially hurtful to his ego. These people are psychic lovers and I'm afraid they are often seen with abusive people who take advantage of their unconditional love.
Mars-Saturn aspects in synastry is an indicator of only wanting to have sex with only this person, or could be that the couple can go for long times without being intimate and not feel like they need it.
This may sound obvious, but Ardra nakshatra people are the ones that feel so renewed by crying. They could heal A LOT by just a long crying session. And while others think "crying won't solve your problems" Ardra nakshatra people know this is so far from the truth. I am an Ardra rising and sometimes i tell my friends that i cried for hours to feel better and they are all like "if I cried like that i would feel so much worse but I'm happy for you" lol.
Hasta nakshatra men are such women worshippers. Hasta women are so maternal.
If i wanted good financial advice I would ask a Venus in the second house person. Specially women. Ik they are known overspenders but I had many good experiences with them.
In fact, I've seen some cases where people follow the advice of Taurus/2nd house individuals more often than other people's advice. They perceive it as being more valuable, I suppose.
Anuradha nakshatra individuals love movies about friendship and gore/horror movies. I think they like movies in general too.
Krittika nakshatra people are often perceived as "mean" or they say things that others take too personally? Idk but I know 3 cases like that. They are so unapologetic. The 3 of them were perceived as asexual too.
As a Swati moon I've always been obsessed with beauty, decorating, fashion and clothes, putting on creams, balms, perfumes and other products and it makes sense!
My obsession with beauty wasn't healthy tho. I suffered from mental illness and could see the slightest imperfection on my face. That's another thing about Swati individuals, they perceive every subtle, small detail and may become obsessed with stuff easily.
True crime documentaries are a Ketu woman´s best friend. Probably Ketu men as well, although what i observed from them is more of adventure movies, movies about survival or nature documentaries. Teen Wolf is the perfect Ketu people TV show. Criminal Minds too. And they were both created by a Ketu man.
I love Mercury nakshatra women's voices. They are also so funny and sarcastic.
I know three cases of people with a mix of tropical pisces/neptune and aquarius/uranus having lucid dreams/dreams they can partially control, and dreams about flying. They also rarely have nightmares but when they do it's not something happening to them but to other people, and they are there trying to help lol.
Rahu women or rahuvians in general could feel like they don't even understand themselves sometimes. They're so independent and hard to tame that they feel like they need something to "control" them or some kind of restraint, but nothing feels effective or worth it at the end. I observed in my grandma, a Swati moon woman, that she used to brag about how independent she was, refused to stay married, hated feeling restrained so much and then she ended up wishing someone took care of her, gave energy and time to her, took the lead for her. She doesn´t necessarily regret being someone unconventional and independent, but she recognizes that now that she is old.
Uttara Bhadrapada and Rohini nakshatra people like learning and are so curious about some aspects of sex, they may even want to be sexologists. Could also apply to Ardra.
Cancer women get a lot of hate for apparently no reason. I even heard people saying they hate Cancer women as if they knew all Cancer women in the world?? I think the most simple explanation for that is that Cancer represents a lot of what's a woman's nature and power which are erased in a patriarchy.
Everyone talks about how Aries people get over anger so easily and never hold grudges but I've actually seen the opposite. In a lot of cases they are worse than the common "resentful" water and earth signs.
Aries in general have a hard time apologizing. It's like they never did anything wrong, the others were just unfair to them. I know SO MANY examples of this unhealthy expression.
A nice observation now lol is that I've never met an Aries that didn't have beautiful red lips and cheeks.
I noticed a lot of Moon and some Mars people have a significant amount of moles/freckles. The Spanish word for mole is lunar lol.
People with Mercury/Saturn aspects or Saturn in the third house felt "dumb" when young. Because of it, they made a lot of efforts and worked hard to know stuff and be smart by reading a lot of books, watching a lot of documentaries and educational videos, playing general knowledge games, learning a lot of words and languages, taking a lot of classes, playing memory games, chess, and even researching cognitive processes and brain health.
I've noticed that many Sun dominant women have this lowkey unhealthy expression of not being good friends with other women/feminine individuals. They're the type to say women are a lot of drama or that they can't connect with them even though they don't have a specific problem with women. They may be friends with only guys, or feel isolated from women. They also used to want to be a guy or dressed/still dresses tomboyish (there isn't anything wrong with that). I think in a way it's completely understandable and even healthy! But some of them express a lot of internalized misogyny and unconscious projections that they can't or don't want to recognize. When their expression is healthy, Sun dominant people are totally the warmest, best friends. And just the type of person others need around and in their life.
Saturn in the 5th house people are often self-taught artists. Some people perceive them as boring because they can be really afraid of expressing themselves. They give a lot in romantic relationships and often don´t get the same in return but they want to keep going because they care about loving more than being loved.
Sagittarius people make good parents in general and they are so underrated as parents. They give their children freedom, make them experience fun things like traveling, and often spoil them in a good sense! They also teach them a lot of valuable things and make them laugh!
Virgos are the most considerate and thoughtful people. They remember stuff about you even if you barely know them and they barely know you. They give you what you need at the right moment. They remember how you make your bed, how you fold your clothes and then they surprise you with an act of service. They know exactly what to gift each person.
Saturn dominant people/saturn in the first house/conj ascendant could suffer from a lot of anxiety and overthinking. They also criticize themselves for irrelevant stuff and that's so sad because everytime I'm near a saturn dominant I can't get enough of their energy! There is something really pleasant about them. They are also giving, considerate and nice hosts/hostesses. They make people feel included and heard. I made a personal observation about saturn nakshatra men here (based in this video)
Ceres-ascendant aspects/Ceres in the 1st are the perfect homemakers.
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Thank you for reading! See you in next post :)
Here you can see my last pac reading <3
images from pinterest, dividers by @muruffin
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crazypenguintacofan · 7 months
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Gonna repost this here bc the people really need to see it
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The polycule is canon and I don't wanna hear anything else from poylcule deniers.
[ALT: Two screenshots of three tweets.
Tweet 1:
User Morgane  Inciting (a) riot(s) (@malinconiae_off) says:
And now that the strike is over, I can post this again: Vico confirmed that the Olu/Jim/Archie polycule is canon. They talked excitedly about making it more obvious in S3 if we get it, and said about the “anchors” line: “I knew that those who *know* would pick up on this”.
Tweet 2:
User Polite Wife: That'll Be My Brand (@SHRAAAMP) says:
Where did they confirm this? I need it to be true (followed by three teary-eyed emojis).
Tweet 3:
User Morgane  Inciting (a) riot(s) (@malinconiae_off) replies:
To me directly when I met them. I was thanking them for their impact on the polyam community, which led to talking about this OFMD polycule, and that’s when they confirmed that it *is* a polycule and that the plan is to make it more obvious in S3 if the show’s renewed.]
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circeyoru · 2 months
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I just love all your unwanted soul content it's hilarious and cute I was wondering if you could do my request if you can
What would happen if reader gave this really cool radio to alastor in one of their dates and he accidentally leaves outside in the hotel lobby and someone breaks it
Go to MASTERLIST for the works. This ask is for {Unwanted Souls}.
Thank you for saying that! So happy to see you guys like my writing and story!! Happy to do the request, no worries! Just takes time~
A cute and maybe angsty moment then.
I'd say Reader/you designed the radio by yourself after long hours of research. You have actually taken apart radios before and summoned ones with your pages. But to actually gift one to Alastor, you won't and I mean will NOT settle for a summoned gift. Even though Alastor will take anything you gift him like it's a treasure from a lost century. You have a thing for giving the perfect gift and seeing the receiver's face light up like a Christmas tree. In Alastor's case, it's very very extreme affection, not that you're complaining, he makes you feel very reassured to be liked by someone you care for.
Alastor knows you put a lot of attention to the gifts and plans you make, so he takes extra care not to offend you. He did before and got your passive aggressiveness, passing it off as being 'moody' until you were like "Oh we don't need that since you think it's a waste of time!". He apologized quickly and right the wrong. Though sometimes it's just you wanting to cool down since Alastor made sense in his view.
The radio gift in question would be a mix of the two of your colours, with deer antlers at the top and feathers below. Both are symbols of you two. You added the voodoo symbols that would appear around Alastor to the surface of the radio too. How you got them was by observing Alastor very very closely when he got annoyed or angry or a bit bloodthirsty. Alastor treasures it so. He fainted when he first got it. Took him a while to regain consciousness and he nearly fainted again when you showed him it was channeled to his screaming broadcast.
Yeah... Him leaving it in the lobby was a big mistake. I imagine he was listening and staring at it while you were out or just didn't want him around (like maybe bathing?), so he got the next best thing. The precious gift you gave him, made by your delicate hands. How he left it unattented, uhhh, maybe Charlie asked for something or maybe there was another random attack on the hotel.
(it wouldn't be the hotel crew that breaks it cause it's obvious to them that was a big no no)
Either way, Alastor saw that the radio was broken.
Haha. Alastor's gonna be the big bad wolf. He destroys anything in sight while his giant hands cradle the broken radio that was his. Charlie and the others definitely tried to reassure him they'll help fix it. It'll be good as new!
Impossible! You took weeks learning about radios and months perfecting this! He saw glimpses of it, but gave you privacy so the built-up surprise was even better when you gift it to him. Now? Now it's BROKEN! HOW DARE!
When you came back and found Alastor in his raging mode, you were confused. Charlie immediately rushed over to you to ask for your help, you asked her to explain first since Alastor wouldn't be like that for no reason. Ahh, so someone broke the radio you gave him. Luckily, it was made by your hand, so nothing you can't fix.
You got over to Alastor and called out to him. You didn't even need to shout loud and his eyes snapped to you. He leaned down, his eyes showing you shame and sadness that no one else would be able to tell. You told him to show you the radio, he shakingly did, partly scared that you'd yell at him for not taking care of it.
But you knew how much attention he put into catering the gift after he got it. It was like a mother treating a newborn. So you got your pages ready and fixed it in a flash.
You hugged onto the renewed radio and smile, "Now why don't you blow off some steam, don't take too long."
And Alastor was off to deliver judgment.
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