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#flowery bs
cowboybarney · 5 months
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looking back on how I characterized Barney in my (somehow ongoing) fic from his pov, I think if I had to redo it I'd make him act more confident and reckless, but unfortunately I imbue so much of the thinking and behavior of characters I write with my own self-concious inner dialogue that it ends up making them a lot less active in the story and all the prose is clogged with them overthinking. I must deconstruct my inhibitions to portray an ideal vision Barney.... alas
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phloxy-fox · 4 months
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It's 2024.
I am still not over Tamlen.
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urbxntwilight · 1 year
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My piece of absolute bull shit
end result/time of finishing: idk…
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lunimy · 1 year
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i had the absolute most annoying dream ever like god i hate people
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so0ppa · 2 months
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i hate how much i relate to the ai character here. feels just like when I watched inside job and started kinning JR immediately 😒 for why ... brain...
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manicpixiedreamcurl · 2 years
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Headcanon: Eddie likes making smart girls dumb
Word Count: ~2,620
Warnings: 18+ only. Minors dni. Dumbification kink (yup!), rough oral sex (m receiving), face slapping, degrading language throughout, reader is worry on legs and eddie lives to turn her brain off essentially. Reader says something mean but she's stressed and she APOLOGISES AND MEANS IT.
A/N: “Hey, Jo, don’t you have like five different proper wips that aren’t just these needlessly long headcanons your brain comes up with when you should be sleeping?” “Yup! Now read the needlessly long headcanon.”
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“Maybe just a little break would do you some good, sweetheart?”
You shake your head, remaining as you are, hunched over your desk. Evidence of how you’ve spent the afternoon is spread across the table. Various empty coffee cups, your bright desk lamp, stacked textbooks, a colour coded periodic table, your lilac notepad that was new last week, now open a quarter of the way through, covered in black notes and pink highlighter lines.
Eddie arrived twenty minutes ago, uninvited, having not spoken to you properly in three days.
Since you were asked by a desperate Ms Loudon to tutor him in History at the beginning of the year, Eddie has improved in every subject he takes. You didn’t just sit with him and run through major events, didn’t just read his essays half bored to give him meaningless feedback. You taught him how to help himself. Finally, Eddie has the knack, the knowledge on how to motivate himself to just sit down and study. 
It was a strange, sick relief to realise with finality that he wasn’t stupid like people thought. No, Eddie’s capable, smart even. But smart only goes so far when you can’t sit at your desk without finding yourself seeking out a joint, or a guitar, or a porn mag. These days, he gets Cs more often than he gets Ds or Fs on tests. More Bs on essays than any other grade. The first A he’s had since the eighth grade came, red and circled, in Art last week. An essay on Jean-Michel Basquiat with multiple scribbles reading “good point!”
Turns out, setting a schedule that works for him, taking breaks every hour for a Dr Pepper or a crunchy snack, sitting with you in the library so you can talk each other through your notes, works for him. 
So yeah, he knows your way works better than his ever did, ever will. But shit, it’s a Saturday night, and the test isn’t till Tuesday. Chemistry’s a bitch, sure, but Jeff’s your lab partner and Eddie’s heard that you can draw structural formulas with the same ease as writing your name. Or drawing a love heart on his hand, the way you like to do sometimes.
He’s so grateful for you. Not just that he credits you as the reason he’s assured to graduate this year, but that, since he kissed you for the first time, leaning over a library table to hold your busy head in his hands, you’ve opened yourself up to him so sweet it makes his heart sore. You taught him so much, sharing your seemingly endless smarts, and you’ve let him teach you in return. How to play a power chord, roll a joint, let a boy like Eddie lay you down and master your body till you’re a writhing, crying mess with an empty head.
So now, watching you rub your sore eyes, stretch your sore back, crack your sore neck. Yeah, he wants to do something about it. 
“I just think maybe you’re overexerting yourself this time,” he says from your pretty, flowery bed, shoes left at the door the way your Mom insists on, the rule held fast even when she’s out. 
You feel your shoulders tense, frustration running up the back of your neck to clench your jaw. Why is Eddie even here? You didn’t invite him. Didn’t ask him to come sit a judge, share his unsolicited opinions on the way you work. 
“You can think that, but I need to have these notes on carboxylic acid memorised tonight so I can focus on oxidising and reducing agents tomorrow. That gives me the right amount of time to study reversible reactions on Monday night.” You look at him with a tight smile, hoping you’ve explained yourself enough that he’ll leave it, now. “I have a plan, Eddie.”
“You always do,” Eddie grins, his bright eyes not working their usual magic. You look back to your book and sigh, frustrated that you’re using brain power trying to work out how to ask him to leave when you should be focused on reduction reactions. “But, I mean, how long will it really take you to learn what you need about, um, oxidising stuff, tomorrow? Don’t you think you could get back to the acids then, too?”
“Why should I?”
“Cause it’s a Saturday night. You’re exhausted. And deep down you want to watch Children of the Corn with me and cuddle.”
Your heart tweaks inside its ice cage, and you hate him a little then for trying to tempt you away. “Of course I want to relax, Eddie. That’s not the point.”
Eddie smooths his hands across his knees. “Well, what is the point? ‘Cause I really think you’d be better off taking some time away from all the books.”
The graphite at the end of your pencil snaps to leave wood chips, the final push that has you twisting in your seat and yelling. “You’re really not the right person to be doling out advice on studying, Eddie! The fact that you think wanting to relax means you should is the reason you’ve been a high school senior for three years straight!”
Eddie’s kind face goes hard. Your throat tightens with regret.
"I didn't mean that." 
"No?" He asks, smacking his hands to his knees as he stands. Your heart fights its way from the ice, pounding and hot with worry. He’s moving to your door when you rush to him, grabbing his arms to hold him there.
"I'm sorry," you say, eyes watering, overwhelmed. Your brain is fit to burst, thoughts running wild. Eddie’s going to break up with you now, for being mean. Eddie’s going to break up with you and never speak to you or kiss you or touch you or smile at you ever again. "I'm so sorry, Eddie."
"I dunno. That was, uh, kinda mean, you know? Sounded like you think I'm dumb or something." 
Your head shakes rapidly. "I don't think that. I know you're not dumb, Eddie. Please, I'm sorry-" 
"You're sorry?" 
"Yes. Yes, I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that." 
"You gonna apologise to me properly?"
You stare at him. 
There it is, behind the cold stare. He’s got what he wanted. There’s no way you’re going back to that desk now. Even in the low light of your table lamp, you can see the mischief, the satisfaction and anticipation. Eddie isn't angry, not in the slightest.
"Eddie-" 
"You just told me you don't even know why you insulted me. That’s kinda stupid of you, ya know? Sounds to me like maybe, between the two of us, you might be dumb one. So maybe instead of arguing with me, you should stop pretending to know better and just let me be in charge, ‘kay?" 
Your fingers flex on his arms, one kind of nervous tension leaving your body even as another creeps up. Eddie blinks slowly, like he’s waiting. When you don’t say anything, unclear on what he wants you to say, he sighs, takes his arms from your hold to grasp you. One hand, wide and strong, finds the back of your head, directing your gaze to his. The other presses against your throat, the contrast of warm fingers and cold rings sending shivers through you.
“Are you going to let me be in charge tonight, dummy? Do what I tell you, and nothing else?”
Your head would loll if it wasn’t for his grip, and you wonder if he knew that already. “Mm. Tell me what to do, Eddie.”
Eddie grins, hums, presses a quick kiss to your lips. He murmurs into the skin of your cheek. “Let’s start with you on your knees, ‘kay?”
You breathe a soft, affirmative noise as he pushes you down, down till your knees are pressed to the soft rug in the middle of the room. Distantly, you realise that Eddie stood right here on purpose. Knew you’d end up just like this while you were still in a tizzy at the thought of him leaving. The thought is gone in an instant with Eddie’s thumb digging into the back of your mouth, circling your tongue to gather drool. The other hand goes for his belt, the rough tug and the clinking sound making your clit ache. You watch, mouth open and pleading, while he unzips his pants enough to pull himself from his boxers. Eddie fists his pink cock with tight fingers, the spit he took from your mouth aiding a smooth glide. 
It’s torture. You can smell him, the musk of Eddie’s cock, the lingering smell of his tea tree shampoo that he rubs through the thick, dark hair as the base when he showers. The pretty pink head is dripping white pre, more and more forced out each time his foreskin closes over the tip. 
“Eddie,” you whisper, looking up at him to find his gaze focused on your desperate face already. “Please.”
“I’ve got a choice for you, dummy,” he says, hips jerking at the thought of what he’s about to offer you. “If that empty head of yours can manage it.” Eddie pulls his foreskin back, exposing the white cum collected there, and smooths it away with two fingers. “Open.” 
You practically unlock your jaw, tongue exposed so he knows how much you want this. Eddie smirks, fingers finding your mouth. He presses the pads to the taste buds at the very back then drags them forward, covering your tongue in the masculine, salty taste of his cum. Your mouth waters, swallowing it down the second you can and following his fingers with your mouth, managing a little kiss to them before his hand is flat on your cheek. The sharp smack makes you squirm, eyes darting from his amused gaze to his cock. 
“Good?”
“So good,” you nod, eyeing his tip, hoping for more. 
“Hm. Here’s the choice then. My cum in your mouth,” Eddie widens his stance, bringing his cock perfectly level with your wet lips. “Or breathing.”
You groan, mouth opening wide again, knees shuffling desperately. It’s answer enough. Eddie laughs, grasps his cock at the base, and slides home. 
“Shit,” he says, holding your head at either side. Your chin finds his heavy balls, throat long since used to taking Eddie all the way. The stretch, the plugging of your throat, is blissful. Nothing else is important now. Not tests or studying or broken pencils. It’s not your place to worry about that anymore, not your place to worry about anything. You just need to keep your mouth open and let Eddie enjoy your throat. His head rolls, long hair reaching down his back. Eddie groans through his teeth and returns his gaze to you. He finds your eyes red-rimmed and watery. “Shit, shit, shit.”
He keeps you there longer than you're used to, until the stunted breaths you can only take through your nose like this stop being just enough. You jerk, hands moving from your thighs to his, instinct forcing you to bat at him through denim. Your lungs protest enough that you gag, forcing him from your throat and back to your mouth. You take a desperate, gasping breath as Eddie’s cock leaves your warmth.
Another slap, quick and harsh. “You made your choice, dummy,” Eddie says over the sound of your returning breath. He clasps his base again, driving back down your throat but granting you the blessing of thrusting, giving you half seconds to breathe around his dick when the tip finds your tongue again. 
Then he holds his hips still, hands covering your ears and bobbing your head like you’re a toy, made to move along his cock as he desires. The movement makes you dizzy, like your brain is knocking around your skull. “Fucking perfect like this,” he says. “Doing what you’re supposed to be doing, just taking my cock like a silly slut-”
Your nose meets the wiry hairs at the base of him with each aggressive push of your head, your eyes rolling back at the smell of him and the throb of his thick, perfect cock in your gullet. Everything now is just smell and taste and feeling. Nothing to think about, question or consider. 
You want to rub your cunt desperately, but your own body wouldn’t allow it unless Eddie were to suggest shoving your fingers in your panties. Instead, you ache between your legs and keep your jaw wide for him. Your cheek throbs suddenly with another slap, no longer a punishment, but just because the way you take a little violence makes Eddie’s cock twitch happily. 
“Who's fucking dumb, baby?” He asks, forcing himself down your throat again, waiting until you’re twitching and writhing. Below him, on your knees where you should be. “Who’s fucking dumb? Me or the slut who chose the taste of my dick over breathing?” He slaps your right cheek, crosses his hand over to slap the left. Your face tingles pleasantly. “Fucking-” Eddie presses forward, cock going no deeper, but just squishing his swollen balls against your chin. “Answer me, you stupid slut.”
You try. You try because Eddie told you to, but he’s blocking any sound that could hope to escape. The vibrations of your attempt at me, I’m dumb, travel up his cock and he groans. “‘M gonna cum,” Eddie pulls away, listens to the desperate gasp and the release of built up spit over his cock. He thrusts again, taking and giving you back his cock in quick succession, saliva dripping down his balls and covering your chin. “Gonna cum in your fucking mouth. All it’s good for. ‘S not for speaking, fucking talking back and insulting me, ’s just for sucking my fucking dick- shit!”
Eddie rests the head of his cock on your tongue, using the waves of drool you’ve given him to jerk his cock into your mouth. You moan happily the whole time, tongue finally able to do its job of licking at Eddie’s salty, smooth head for his pleasure. His cock twitches, throbs, and Eddie covers your tongue with ropes of his thick cum. You hold it, even when he takes his softening cock from between your lips. You open them to display it, a white pool in your pink mouth. Eddie huffs a laugh. 
“You’re not impressing anyone with that. Just swallow it, dummy.”
Eddie’s cum flows, thick and wet, down your throat. The final slap turns your face to the side with its impact, leaves your cheek almost numb, You press your face back into Eddie’s hand, body knowing it’s always his touch that you need more of, even if it hurts. You sigh blissfully, feeling good, used, and empty. 
“Come here, dummy,” Eddie says softly, throwing himself back on your bed and opening his arms with wiggling fingers. You climb into his arms without a thought, pressing your whole face to his sweaty neck. You lick a little, wanting another hit of the tastes his body provides. Eddie rubs a thumb over your aching cheek. “Feeling good?”
“Mmm.” Your clit is still crying for attention, your cunt has been leaking and ready for him since he pushed you to your knees. A faraway thought assures you that Eddie will get to that, once he’s eased you out of the headspace of degraded dummy back to his pretty, sweet girl who gets kisses between her legs for being so good and smart.
“This brain of yours, baby.” Eddie strokes your hair and kisses your temple. “You gotta learn to turn it off sometimes, you know?”
“Don’t need to learn anything.” You shift and squirm in your cuddle to find more of Eddie’s skin. “You do it for me.”
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mageknight14 · 7 months
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I loved how NEO pulled the rug out with Rindo’s character. At first, he generally seems much more sociable and outwardly friendly compared to Neku and then the game quickly goes "yeah, nah, he’s a huge fucking mess too." He’s a good kid fundamentally at his core but he can also be whiny, hypocritical, passive-aggressive, and kind of insensitive at times. He has a tendency to be judgemental and harsh to the people around him while not acknowledging his own faults, like when he complains about Beat joining the team even though he saved their lives beforehand because he’s not Neku or when he gives Fret shit for fawning over Eiji Oji and Kanon while falling for Motoi’s BS. He’s so pessimistic about himself and others that not even a death game that heavily emphasizes the value of teamwork can get him to fully come out of his shell, which is where his time-travel powers come in AND EVEN THEN it’s a double-edged sword since on one hand, it forces him to actively step up to the plate and survey the situation to find the best possible solution, which leads to him slowly growing out of his shell, but on the other, it also leads to him becoming overly reliant on his time travel so that he can walk back from potentially life-changing decisions without having to worry about it since he has a magic reset button. Which ends up biting him in the ass. Hard.
He’s one of those types of people who is ultimately a thinker and planner instead of a do-er, but his being young and overly impressionable takes this personality quirk to such an extreme that he's foundationally useless to most groups. He’s the type of person who you have in a group project who sits around and does nothing, but then complains with the project does poorly because he couldn't be bothered to speak.
He's so unconfident and directionless that he uses effectively Instagram as a means to listen to someone who sounds like some 2deep4u philosopher post dumb flowery bullshit that effectively has all the meaning of "Drink water when you're thirsty." and he admits to finding such "deep" meaning in these posts that it supposedly helped him through life. Because he's 15 and doesn't know anything.
However, all of this makes him interesting as a character because he’s, again, still a fundamentally good kid at his core. While he’s shown to have a fuse, he is also the kind of person who has the ability to think his emotions through. That's what we ultimately see when he and Fret finally talk and drop their beef. The game depicting Rindo's capacity for self-awareness and emotional reflection is a positive revelation of his character strengths. He proves that he's capable of recognizing when he's in the wrong and knows how to apologize, a trait he shows quite a few times throughout the story, while also doing everything he can to set things right as well as be more understanding toward how his friends feels.
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He’s kind of the guy who will drop everything to help a little kid out, even when there’s no tangible benefit to doing so and he and the others are shown to be on limited time, shows empathy to his friends/fallen enemies, and feels massive amounts of guilt for his actions, even if he didn’t know better at the time.
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Hell, the entire endgame is fueled by his selfish yet understandable desire to save the people he cares about most from total erasure, to the point that he’s willing to risk thousands of lives to do so. But not only is he shown to be internally grappling with himself regarding his decision but he’s also willing to take responsibility and ensure that EVERYTHING goes right not just for himself and his friends but the people of Shibuya in general, in a parallel to Neku’s own selfish if understandable decision to put the bonds he formed in the original game (particularly with Joshua) over the actual city.
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Characters aren't interesting simply by switching between 2 different character traits. They're interesting when all those traits are being expressed at the same time for reasons that are consistent within their internal logic. You gotta be a good writer to pull that off and you gotta know when to show off these dimensions during your story to achieve proper dramatic effect when the time calls for it and NEO I feel does this pretty damn well.
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angelfoodcake222 · 1 year
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Random thoughts list for our optical appetite asuaging Mr. Darling & others!
-Say the kidnapped crew miraculously found a box with a note from one of the original crew's teenaged youths who figured out what was happening at the studio & poured their purest intentions into a '50s-'60s themed doll/puppet/poppet (the Bob Dilian Cap, 'fro, green flower shades framed in purple Ombre, funky flowery tunic top, love beads [their maker's gifted for protection], evil eye medallion, waist beads under their top, bell bottoms, flowing scarves, etc., etc.) & decided to send their parent help in protecting them but it was too late. The new crew opened the pink/white wax-sealed box to find a spunky, funky, unnamed, disco dolly that was specifically made to combat Wally's reign.
-What if Mr. Darling met the new puppet who was (by some mystical BS for plot's sake) 100% immune to his way of eating & when he tried to bite them he only gets whatever is behind his intended target? This varies in reactions depending on what was beside them if anything. He could have eaten the part of a table or counter their food was sitting on & they sass him for that or if their make-up was eaten they'd ask if he felt pretty on the inside. The scene that initially plopped into my head like a boulder falling into a big lake was:
Wally wonders upon the newest addition to The Neighborhood just to find them doing something he doesn't like & tries to use his eyes but he only catches the bush they were passing by/looking at or what-have-yous. They don't veer around, flinch, nothing. A simple chuckle & a lone, feasibly dominant hand to the respective hip is all the star of the show gets before they peek mockingly over their shoulder at him.
"What's the dealio, Darling Daddy-o? Too much to bite off~?" Thus, the war began.
-Jokingly, the new puppet said Mr. Darling is "wally, wally, blood & dolly" for them (wild about a person in a way that makes you blind to their faults) to whoever/everyone who'd lend an ear which caused Mr. Darling to become even angrier with them. They like him angry, it's so cute.
-All the early '60s-'70s jargon with all the trimmings.
-They have a Home, too. This one formed from a little die that (when tossed lightly on the desired spot) spawned in the chosen place, batting its frilled shutters as it came to life ready to welcome its lone occupant in & keep intruders out. The new crew placed it on the outskirts of The Neighborhood while the new puppet/poppet was distracting Mr. Darling. You can imagine his reaction when he heard it creak cheerfully as the new neighbor scattered through the twin stable doors [possibly decorated in/painted with the pattern of dark blue/pink/green/white/red evil eyes] as they slam behind them, leaving the "eyes" to glare at Wally before setting a barrier to protect the newest Bungalow (Bunny???) from his devouring gaze.
I'm sure there's more to write, but I'm tired rn. Bye!
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Oh hey, it the zoomer, but yeah I dislike the anti white narrative
Black activists: White people are evil because they enslaved us!
Me: My brother in Christ we are so backwards we lionized the African kingdom that kidnap our ancestors and sold us to the white man
I said it before, but I didn’t not know the Dahomey role in the Atlantic slave trade until white people like you revealed it when the women king trailer dropped
And that people already did dna ancestry to where most African Americans genome came from…I’m a assassin creed fan and I never thought about it weird
So I started to look up Yoruba history and culture. Side note, I’m not on that pan African bs and I understand that me and a average member of the Yoruba tribe are strangers to each other
If I ever go to Africa, I’m not trying to find family or think I would immediately connect to Africans. Funny enough the left globalized attempts in media strengthen my American identity
I simply want to see what areas my pre enslaved ancestors were and raised in. What kingdoms and empires they were apart of.
Just to show my community that while we are not part of their society anymore. The chains and shackles aren’t our only connection to the old world?
Make sense? Sorry for flowery wording
It makes total sense. Wanting to connect with your ancestry is a universal concept. That's why we have at least three different businesses dedicated solely to genetic testing so people can find out where they come from. My dad did a DNA test once and found that we have like 2% Mesopotamian ancestry, which is kinda wild if you think about it. Like, every single person alive today has a bloodline that can be traced back to some of the first humans just by virtue of still being alive. We have the genetic history of our whole species inside us, and we carry it forward into the future, possibly indefinitely.
I think that's pretty cool.
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laf-outloud · 13 days
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cobybellagram #WALKER WEDNESDAY! New episode tonight. 8/7c on CW.
Please enjoy this random moment of BTS BS with the one and only @jlpierre 🤘🤠🤘
Nothing wrong with enjoying a flowery meadow!
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itsabouttime71 · 26 days
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Fantasy Time: I’m still presenting male when we out shopping. Under my jeans are my thong, garter belt and stockings. Under my shirt is a bra no pads or forms today. I’m still paranoid someone will see the strap outlines from under my shirt so I have a light jacket too. You said I didn’t need to worry but I can’t help it, I trust you. You grab my hand as we walk inside, up the escalator sweetie we’re going to get you some new clothes. I nervously glance around hoping nobody overheard you. I see your smirk as you gently squeeze my hand and we head up.
Prom is coming up so the dresses are on full display at the top of the escalator. I don’t want you to see that I’m interested but you know I am. Don’t worry babe we’ll swing by later. We head over to intimates and you start poking around while I try to look as uninterested and scope out other customers. I breathe a slight sigh of relief and move closer to your position.
You already have a handful of various panties. Hold these I need to check the other tables and hand me your collection. I’m blushing a bit, excited and a bit embarrassed as we move between tables or various colors and styles. Grab a basket and meet me in the bras. As I turn to leave a woman walks up surprising me with a finding everything ok? Yep, yes just need a basket I guess. Let me help you honey. I follow her to the checkout and place the items in the basket she gives. Let me know if you need any help dear. Oh my god, does she know? She can’t know? Uh, thanks I reply adjusting my jacket she can see my bra. I just know she knows these are for me!
As I return to you in the bra section you already have various colors of pullovers bras you dump into the basket. Now for something to enhance your chest…. You grab at my chest to squeeze my non existent cup size. You already have Bs at home it’s time to bump you up to Ds. Beige, flowery, black it feels like too many. There’s four or five I try to look disinterested. Oh there not all for you, I think we need to match when we start going out. I swallow the lump in my throat, when… when’s this? Don’t worry I’ll take care of everything and nobody will really care or know.
What else did we need up here? Let’s get you a shorter skit and then a dress so you can look pretty for the Prom. Most of the skirts are long and not short enough for me you say. You always seem to find whatever you’re looking for and show me too very short skirts. Which one would you pick? The black one? I respond. Silly sissy you get both! Pink and black, you should be so happy. You’ll look amazing, trust me. I do, You toss them at me and I stuff them in the basket. It’s getting heavier but I don’t mention that I think it’s too much at once. I’m getting overstimulated thinking about what you have me wear tomorrow or even when we get home.
Another employee walks up to you this time. Looking for something special dear? Yes, in fact, a fancy dress. She responds, you seem too old for Prom. We’re going to have our own Prom with some friends that never made it back when we were all in high school. That’s a fun idea come to the back section that’s where most of the full size dresses that may work for you are. Thank you so much you replied. I followed feeling my skin start to warm at my neck. I’ll leave you two to it and men’s wear is down stairs if the gentleman needs to refresh his wardrobe too. I gave her a polite nod back as you thank her, we already have something planned for you to wear don’t we dear? All I can muster is an embarrassed nod.
She wanders off as you start hunting the racks, you always know what I need and I let you work. We both know we want you to dress me. It makes me feel warm when you pick out my clothes each day and you like the power that you retain over me. Flowery? Black? Off the shoulder? We bounce around the department and setting off a deep purple off the shoulder piece that I fee is too short for outside the house. How about this? Regardless of my answer I already know you’ve decided but I respond, I think my bulge will show? Then you need to learn to keep your legs together slut! I avert my eyes and nod. I can feel your gaze on me, yes mistress. You lay it over my hands carrying the basket, I think we’re done, your fishnets at home will look great with these.
We don’t go to the register up on this floor to my dismay. We head back down to the first level and head right up to the counter. Only a couple people in front of us waiting nobody behind. You size the opportunity and take ahold of my crotch. Ok baby momma’s got you a whole new wardrobe for you to try on when we get home. You’re going to model everything for me and if you dance well enough for me you can eat at your favorite place. You take one of my hands and place it in your crotch now be a good girl and pay. You give my behind a quick swat as i set the basket on the counter on our turn and make chit chat with the cashier the whole time. I’m expecting to assume she’ll assume they’re all mine but she doesn’t. I pay, say thank you and I grab the bags to move quickly to the exit. As we walk out the door you praise me, You did good in there honey but next time you are going to pick out the clothes and I’ll assist you in specifics, now let’s go get you redressed in something we’ll both enjoy!
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just-antithings · 10 months
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Not exactly an anti thing, but kiinda sorta related. I don't for the life of me get how anyone, ever, can take AI "fiction" writing seriously. Corporate BS like chatgpt will refuse to work on anything slightly more controversial than "they were sitting on a flowery meadow gazing into each other's eyes", I am sure that other models are just as bad cause you know, god forbid they scare away the investors. Funny thing that its way of working also aligns perfectly with how antis see fanfiction - sanitized up the wazoo.
.
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apompkwrites · 1 year
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Leblanche! (Name) and Rook bond over the fact that they can and WILL find something about you to compliment, although their approaches are different from each other to say the least.
aw wait okay that that and just them both sending lil messages to neige under diff names because they don't wanna be known :OO
yes yes please they are now f r i e n d s.
rook just has such flowery language to a point where you don't really understand what he's saying but you're pretty sure it's good. right? and then leblanche!(name) somehow compliments you on things you didn't even think were capable of being complimented? but they put it in a way where you know it isn't just bs and they actually think that about you <33
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doulayogimama · 8 months
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Not even waiting to 100% finish this book before I say it: I think it’s hot garbage. 🤷🏽‍♀️
Even when the leads finally sleep together 🙄 it reads like a Twilight sex scene. It’s like someone is trying really hard to describe what they think incredible sex is but hasn’t had it. Like - throwing around the C words and broken furniture does not make a convincing sex scene IMO, lol.
It just comes off as flowery BS 🫠
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Do you wanna know how you can recognize real tea from a made up one, if you cannot sense it like some of us?
Real gossip has a very few but on point details. No flowery, essay long BS about the details and it definitely won’t say what will happen “for sure” and how the “end is coming” etc.
This… this is how the real stuff looks like
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