#I just have to work a lot for my internship

[yourlocalsmutwriter]

IYCRTTBFO - Joel Miller x reader

Summary/ warmings: dbf! Joel is also a cam model, a lot of masturbation, a lot of dirty talk, nudes, light(ish) daddy kink, sex toy mentions, and use, cunnilingus, filming, creampies, at least two references to Wheeler Walker Jr. songs, big fat age gap, Sara delegated to Joel's niece, author loves dilfs, especially this one, author entered a fugue state and this emerged

You couldn't sleep. It started at college, when you were working part-time while doing your masters thesis. Your night shift ended at 2.30 in the morning. Then, by the time you went to bed, you were struggling to shake off the buzzing energy. Your body was tired, and your mind was elsewhere. So you turned to the only true, tried and tested method of getting yourself to sleep. Masturbation. Low effort, porn video you've already watched, finger rubbing your clit, masturbation. It worked for about a week. Then your "sessions" got longer. And longer. You had to spend an hour now, chasing your orgasm. Begging yourself to cum. Getting more frustrated and then practically passing out like a log. You got good sleep out of it. But also it was getting painful. Your clit would hurt, a short stabbing pain taking your mind off of your thesis critique. Not that you were too keen on hearing about the feedback on your research model. So you were going to quit, cold turkey style. On the one hand, your insomnia persisted. Now you had replaced porn with your self assigned reading. But that did not help you sleep, just made you more cranky. Your cycadian rhythm was fucked beyond belief. So you moved through life half- asleep, always spending your days off napping. Morning meetings were rough and when you slept through an internship interview at 1, you knew enough was enough.

Back to flicking the bean to not be mean. You just figured you needed a change of scenery, so to speak. You considered OnlyFans, ready to be shelling out your hard earned cash for tasteful nudes (perhaps those of Markiplier or something like that). But that wouldn't be personal enough. You tried audio stuff, but the JOIs weren't really catered to you. Yes, they had your kinks. Or the pet names you liked. But never together, never quite enough. And call it conditioning, but you wanted something familiar. A certain Austin draw, a slice of the Texas you were far away from. But alas, your cowboy was not on Quinn or soundgasm. So you went old-school.

Girls like you weren't even supposed to know about camming sites. It was such a retro thing, more of your father's and Joel's generation. But it was thanks to the former's inability to delete a browser history that you were here. The landing page of the website was fine. You had to make the choice of looking at women, men, couples, or the trans category. Craving to see a solo cumshot, you click on "male". You should've expected that even here, it would be geared towards other guys, like most porn was. The tags of the rooms said it all. Anal. Fuckmachine. Party. But as you refreshed the home page again, someone caught your eye. It was a guy in a cowboy hat over his face. His tip goal was simple, promising a glimpse of him shirtless. It was the amount of tokens needed that amazed you, it was so high. Seriously, from your little time on the website, you could see this was a bit too self assured. But he was getting there. You clicked the video, morbid curiosity taking over. This and his username of thicktexanbeercan. A man after your own heart.

People flood in, apparently the red color of their usernames means they're part of a fan club? You wanna learn more, so you click through the whole thing. The "cam boy" or "cam man" or whatever you were supposed to call him was just welcoming people. There were other newbies like you because you were half-listening to him explaining about his mic.

"You can hear me so clearly cause I have it clipped to my neck on a fucking chocker. Which you guys should've let die in the 90s btw." You're looking at his tags of #monster cock, #daddy, #master and #orgasmguide. And when someone voices your thought of "some of us weren't even born in the 90s." you found out why. He reads it out and snorts.

"Look at you, so young and already a pathetic little pervert watching older men. What, daddy didn't love you enough, babydoll? So now you gotta come here at night and tune into me stroking my cock for you. Wishing you were on your knees, trying to take it in your bratty little mouth?". The donations explode. The sound effects of coins reverberate through your headphones. The goal is met and the stream has been on for only 15 minutes. You can't see him smile, but you can feel it, by the way his shoulders relax.

"You're such a good girl tonight, spoiling your old man. So needy, already wanting me to take off my clothes. I will, little slut, just let daddy take care of something first." He rolls his chair to the desk and takes his keyboard. You chuckle at the faded and yellowed stickers on it, they vaguely reminded you of something. The man can touch type and you've never wanted to be a pair of keys more in your life. The goal's adjusted, promising whipped cream on his chest. As he fiddles with the camera angles and wonders aloud how to best give you a show, you hover to his bio tab. The man intrigues you. Under real name, he put “Can't tell you, but my screen name is a pun”, so you guess it's Bud or even Sam Addams. His age is listed as late 40s, and when you see a glimpse of his salt and pepper chest hair, it makes sense.

This guy intrigues you. Instead of rubbing one out, you're scrolling further. There's pictures and videos. While there's one of him wearing assless chaps for free (which quickly gets saved to your phone gallery), the rest is behind a paywall. Videos of him cumming or even simple things like doing push-ups. Your palms are itching and you know your payday is coming soon. But before you end up buying a filthy mp4, you go back to the stream.

Somehow, he had made taking off a flannel sexy. Rubbing his fingers against his chest. Touching his happy trail. Then someone in the chat asked, "How much to see the good stuff?" He reads it out, chuckles, and presses a few keys, making a tip menu appear in the chat. It has the usual stuff, promises of flashing his cock or flexing his biceps. C2C and PMs (which you had learned stood for cam to cam and private messages). Then, was the more personal stuff. Nudes rating (5 photos), praise, degradation, ddlg. He clearly knew what people wanted. Was it what he craved as well, you wondered? Then came "the goods" the other person was probably talking about. Jerking off, cumming, even using a vibrator or a fleshlight on himself.

You wondered how long it would take to see the self-described "thicktexanbeercan.". But thanks to someone just as horny as you, if not more, it would be almost immediately. When the tip for "jerking off" came through, he said the person's username and then asked, "How do I thank you, using my southern charm or Austin dirtbag style?"

When the person replied with "dirtbag style," also my pronouns are she/they."he presumably glanced at the message. Probably keeping eye contact with the camera, he reaches for his belt.

"Thank you for being horny, I guess. Desperate little thing, that doesn't like to wait. Impatient darling, needing to see daddy pump his cock for you. Gonna show you exactly what you wanna see, baby.". The belt is on the ground and his jeans are around his ankles. Never did you think that a guy simply taking off his pants would be so hot. Your gaze trails from his delicious thighs to his boxers. Holy shit, even by his outline you can tell that his username isn't an exaggeration.

He pulls it out and it's the prettiest and biggest cock you've ever seen. His hand wraps around it, one slow pump he thrust into, back arching. Then he folds one arm behind his head and turns straight into the camera. You like the mystery, but wish he would show his face. His voice is breathy, he obviously likes what he's doing. And his thrusts are speeding up.

His chat is going crazy, tokens pouring in.

"You like what you see, huh? Bet you're aching to touch yourself, too. Go on, spread your pretty legs for me, and give me a show, too.". Before you know it, you're following his instructions. Pajama pants quickly pulled down, you touch yourself. And God damn, are you wet. You're fucking dripping, for this stranger on the internet. You don't have time to be embarrassed. You trail a finger against your opening, gathering the slick. Then you touch your clit, rubbing it slow and then gradually speeding up. But it's so much more intense, it's fucking electric. You glance at the clock on your phone. Look back at the man on the stream, his chest, his cock. And in a minute you're cumming. Eyes closed, pussy getting tighter and clenching around nothing orgasm. You close the stream, mortified. You go to bed and have the best sleep of your life.

By the next stream, you have an account, and you follow him. He acknowledges that, and you're tempted to already start touching yourself. But it's a Friday night, you've promised yourself that weekends are for yourself. Seeing that you pushed for Saturdays off, one would think you'd need to be up, bright and early, and going somewhere. But not this time. You had planned a slow day, where you catch up on laundry and read. But before the weekend was this. You caught on to today's stream a bit too late. Your cowboy (a middle-aged man that probably didn't know you existed) was already shirtless. He had a loofah and a mug filled with water next to him.

"One of y'all suggested I try temporary tattoos. Now, I had to go to the grocery store and get weird looks as I pumped quarters in a machine. So you better enjoy them. Or actually, if I find good ones online, I'm adding them to the wishlist.". He moves off camera and holds up two sheets of temporary tattoos, very tribal and barbed wire inspired. The other is surprisingly butterflies and unicorns.

He unbuttons his pants and lowers his boxers. You can see just the tip, straight as a ram rod. You can't help but wonder if he gets off on being watched. Your head gets filled with fantasies of him and you. Embarrassingly you're picturing him pulling out his pecker in a mundane place like Walmart and fucking you in the aisles. Maybe you just need to do better groceries, you think looking at the takeout bag from the restaurant you just spent 8 hours in. There were enough chicken nuggets in there to feed a family. You get your mind back in the gutter when the performer moans. You stare at the screen. His torso is covered in the temporary tattoo, and he's strategically placed the barbed wire around his nipples. As he drags the wet loofah against his pelvis, he groans.

"God, this is cold. Wish you were here, to warm up my cock. With your mouth or cunt or ass. Filling you so well."

This time, you come before he's even pulled out his dick. Yet you keep watching. A second orgasm gets squeezed out of you later, with the help of your dildo. When "beercan" reaches a crazy tip goal, he fucks his fleshlight. He's merciless, using the pocket pussy like a cocksleeve, whispering the most obscene stuff.

"You like that? You like it when daddy fucks you like this. Of course you do. You're so tight for me, yet you take my big cock so well. Trained you well, didn't I? Made my own little whore, that needs my cum. Beg for it.". And you do, miles away from this stranger. You orgasm with him, sex toy deep inside of you. He cums and makes the stream watch as he cleans the fleshlight with the same loofah he used earlier.

That stream basically breaks you. For some reason two intense orgasm equal a very productive day then. You're a new person. You study and work better and no longer need to fuck yourself to sleep. That you stranger whose name is Bud or Sam Addams or Miller. Not that you drink the latter anyway, so it never crosses your mind. After all, Joel is older, in his mid 50s. But what he's not above is lying on the internet. Using the world wide web to show his nasty bits to the world. And what he'd soon realize is that his best friend's daughter isn't too.

After finishing your masters thesis, you come to the harrowing reality that there's no jobs for you here. And then comes your dad's constant pestering to come home. You reject him at first. There's nothing left for you in Texas anymore, besides the family house. But then, a former high school mentor posts a job opening on their Instagram story. And it's perfect for you, aside from the fact it's in Austin. You off handedly mention it to your parents, after immediately applying. You don't expect to get it. But with interviews and all, you do. They even allow you to start a bit later, making sure you work off your part-time job shifts.

So you take the plunge and buy plane tickets. There's only one problem. The flight is so early that you'd practically have to leave your empty apartment at 4 in the morning. So you decide to pull an allnighter. You're not sure how you end up back on the chat room site. You don't even know if "thicktexanbeercan" still cams. But as you click on the page, you get a notification that he's in a live show. Feeling bold tonight, you know you wanna be a bit more adventurous. Call it what you will, but you need a shake-up. After so much uncertainty, you need to do something so out of character.

You feel the money in your pocket burns a hole in it. Yes, packing your stuff and sending it back wasn't cheap. Nor was the last-minute plane ticket (even with Spirit airlines). But you had sold a lot of your things, gotten your rental deposit back, and got your days off comped as overtime. So you were, technically, on the flipside. Now, responsible people would put that into savings. You were spending it on tokens. You wanted to be seen. So you tipped for "nudes review." Truth is, ever since your last partner in freshman year of college, it was a string of bad hookups and boring first dates. No one had seen you naked in a while. But that didn't mean you didn't have nudes. Nope, you liked taking shots of yourself in compromising positions. After all, your pretty lingerie deserved to be shown off.

So you mindlessly sent over 4 shots via the opened pm option. He moves a large IPad in front of his face to obscure it. His ever-present cowboy hat is moved to his head as he stares at your pictures. He strokes his cock, at his usual fast pace.

"Jesus fuck, darling, aren't you a treasure. Look at that ass, so perky. It would look good in red, after I'm done with you. Let's see the next one, oh, you're doing the hand bra thing. Need someone to fondle your tits, huh. Don't worry, I'd grope them for you. Put my mouth on them, tease your sensitive nipples. Fuck, let's see the third. Damn, you're stark fucking naked. What a little whore you are, showing me everything. Don't know if I wanna think about your boobs again or your hips or your pussy. Might just stick around and look at it. Only one more, okay. Fuck, that's my favorite one, doll. Even though you should've been more careful. You forgot to crop out your face. I can see your needy expression as you're rubbing your clit. Hand in your lacy black panties, must have been a special night. Who in their right mind would have let you go instead of fucking you right against the mirror you're using as a prop. Don't worry, I'll make it right. I'll give you a tribute, right here. How's that sound, darling? You want this old man to cover your photo with his cum in front of thousands of people?".

Any fear or shame you've had is long gone. You don't only want that, you need it. You type a "please, daddy" in the chat. His groan fills your headphones. He fumbles, balancing his hat on his nose. For the first time, you see a glimpse of his face. His tongue wets his lips as he zooms on the iPad, making sure that others only see from your chest down. He jerks his cock over it, painting his screen with spurts of his cum.

"That was intense, think I'll put you on hold for a bit. It's been a while since a first orgasm drained me like that. Daddy will be back soon." He says and pauses the broadcast. Truth is, his cock would be hard again in a minute. It was the fact that he came to you that was haunting him. His best friend's daughter. A girl who was younger than his niece. A woman who was coming back to Texas after leaving as a 19 year old. Then you were still awkward and Joel would never look at you twice. You were a child, for God's sake. But now, some years later you had shed your baby face. You were a fucking bombshell. And he was about to implode.

After a whirlwind rest of the stream, you go to the airport and catch your flight. Despite being a full-grown adult, your parents insist on picking you up. You're back in your childhood bedroom, surrounded by boxes of your new life. You notice that some stuff from before is missing.

"Hey dad, where's the old blueetoth keyboard we bought when the laptop was on the fritz? Might need it for work." You ask. You're sure you can easily write down notes on your phone or on paper. But there was something satisfying about hooking up your old iPad to a keyboard and typing. Maybe it's the fact that it got you through college twice that has you feeling sentimental. Maybe it's the truth that your parents didn't know you bought it, and now you had to use it daily to justify spending money on it. Either way, your dad replied with

"Oh, I gave that to Joel. He said he was starting some new call center job and needed it. Working on European projects, so he's always busy at night. Must pay a pretty penny, he's always got packages on his doorstep. You should see his new pickup truck too, she's a beauty." Your father said.

"Didn't need the whole prologue, dad. Can you just get it back?" You ask.

"Now come on honey, you're a grown woman. You can go over and ask him yourself. He's not gonna eat you." Your dad insists, and you have to agree. With a resigned "At least text him and tell him I'm on the way.", you go. There's no use arguing. You can not explain to your dad that when you were 19, you wanted nothing more than Joel taking your virginity. That now, years after, you still wouldn't mind a sip of that can of Miller.

One of the reasons your dad and Joel were friends was the fact that you could get to the latter's house in about 15 minutes. You're there in less, ringing the doorbell and waiting. Joel emerges in a moss green bathrobe and grey sweatpants. His hair is tousled, and it's obvious that he was sleeping. You'd feel bad if he didn't greet you with a

"What the fuck do you want, I ain't buying anything. Oh. It's you. Hey, kiddo.". Your eyes go to the mat on his front porch, but not before taking in his cock. Was he hard? Had you interrupted an intimate moment? You mumble something about "wireless keyboard" and "borrowing it back, please" when he leads you in. If he had a lady friend, she was as quiet as a church mouse.

"It's in the guest room. Had to convert into a sort of home office, after getting a desk job, so many years as a contractor. Got hard on my back. Wanted to enjoy doing nothing, then Sara got knocked up again. Just like Tommy, both of them can't stop having kids. So now I have to be rich gruncle Joel. And I don't know why I'm telling you this instead of just getting the keyboard." He says. Joel pops in, but he doesn't close the door all the way. Peeking in through the hole, it seems familiar. Like you've seen it before, but recently. You shrug off the deja vu and take the keyboard from him. But as he hands it to you, familiar stickers facing you, you piece it together.

"Thicktexanbeercan" had the same one. And you recognized it because you "decorated" it as a sticker obsessed teen. There was no way. Mr. Miller was not camming. You had not orgasmed to him dirty talking to you. And most importantly, he had not come all over a photo of your tits. It was just a huge, cosmic coincidence. But there was only one way to find out.

The wait until your first paycheck was too long, yet you had to endure. There is no way you were taking money out of your savings to fulfill possibly Joel's wishlist. So when that sum hit your bank account, you expertly navigated to thicktexanbeercan's page. Clicking on the shop icon, you choose to ignore that the man is selling his nudes, his underwear, and his socks. Though tempted by the Polaroids of his cock, you move on. You buy the custom temporary tattoos, a callback to a previous stream. Your pussy twitches at the memory and you're quick to suppress your urges. You send your "requirements" to the Amazon seller and hope they get them ready soon. You also secretly order some for yourself, shipping them to a friend's house. You start tuning into the streams regularly, watching them all the way through. Your coworkers have the grace to not comment. Especially since the nightly nsfw is always in the background of something else. So you're doing research on one screen, while listening to maybe Joel call you a nasty whore for watching him.

TGIF was never your thing, until this one. Your cowboy walked in with a package, his address dutifully scribbled out. He opens it and out comes the sheet of temporary tattoos.

"Oh, someone's been watching me for some time, huh. Can't get enough of me inked. Well, I aim to please, so let's get this show on the road.". Beercan undresses to his boxers and starts examining the tattoos.

"Whoever picked these out is one creative motherfucker. I like them.". He starts showing them off to the camera, chuckling about the "save a horse, ride a cowboy" and subsequently the "don't ride a horse, but I'm hung like one". But one in particular makes him tick.

"Your throat goes here? Really, sweetheart? You expect me to walk around with that, to make you all see it as I stroke my cock for you? Fuck it, it's my job to give you a good show." He peels off two of those and places them on the space between his thumb and pointer finger. Was he? He was. Thicktexanbeercan was gonna live up to his name, by using both hands to jerk off.

He's fast, wanting this to end. His Friday shows weren't that popular, so no use milking it. Now, on Saturdays, that's when most people tune in. It's better to save his stamina for then. But you and the chat had other plans. You had mobilized them as he was busy answering questions earlier. Now, he would get enough tokens for a cumshot. Maybe Joel really aims to please. So he goes for it, double orgasm, sure. Then, as soon as that one's over, another. He barks at the chat that he doesn't like being bossed around like that. But you have him cumming until he's shooting blanks. After he just shuts off the stream and goes to bed after running a wet towel on his stomach, to wipe off the cum.

Less than 8 hours later, there's a constant ring of his doorbell. He opens and you're standing there, looking so fuckable his cock stands to attention. You're wearing a skimpy outfit and your lips are shiny with a pinkish gloss. But that doesn't stop him from wondering why you're gracing his doorstep like an angel sent straight from hell.

“I need help picking out a present for my dad.” You say.

“Sweetpea, I know you've been away for a while, but that doesn't change the fact that your dad's birthday isn't for months.” he replies.

"I know. It's not for that. I fucked up and broke something of his. Can you help me?" You ask.

"Sure, what do you need from me?" He counters.

"I think I wanna be stereotypical and get him something stereotypically dad-like. Like a craft beer, something he can crack open with the boys. And since you're "the boys," I'm here. Need a recommendation for a thick Texan beercan." You watch him react. He twitches like a rabbit spooked by a stick snapping.

"So you know. But I'm sure your parents wouldn't be thrilled by the fact that you're watching porn. Have you ever donated, I wonder. Bought something with their hard earned money. Straight from your father's wallet to your daddy." Joel counters, not missing the way your eyes glaze over when he calls yourself your daddy. But you are not won over so easily.

"You're a liar. Late 40s, my ass. Late 40s when you last had to change your ID or what? I could expose you. I'm sure the girlies and the rest watching you would love to know they were scammed. Tinder swindler, but worse."

"What do you want?" He tries.

"As Lana del Rey said, put me in the movie. Let me be in a video." You demand.

"Come back at night, around 9. Get something to cover your face too. Don't need someone recognizing you." He says.

You follow his instructions like an obedient puppy. You make up excuses to your parents. Your cunt's shaved, your outfit is complete and you're not wearing underwear. Joel drags you in, literally. He looks at the pink cowboy hat you have in hand and chuckles.

"No saying my name, preferably not saying much. Just follow my lead, and I'll make you feel good. If you wanna stop, what do you say?" He lists clinically.

"Light beer," you say, acknowledging the pun behind his moniker. You should've figured this out way earlier.

He half laughs, half looks disappointed at your bad pun. You know he's gonna get you back for this , sooner or later. You just desperately hope it's with his dick.

Joel starts the stream. He makes you sit in his chair as he gets a bit closer to the camera. You can see him, mic clipped to chocker and all. He speaks to his chat, introducing you as a "special cowgirl guest.".

"Bet you all wanna take her place. I'm sure she can tell you all about it. If she can speak after I'm done with her anyway." He continues. You wanna protest, to bite back with a comment. But he crawls between your legs, placing kisses up to your pussy. And you are speechless. The fact that you can see him, dark brown eyes and gorgeous roman nose is too much. He's even revealing the top of his greying hair. You grip it and bring him closer to your center. He chooses to lick and suck your clit instead and you moan so loud, even the felt of your hat doesn't muffle it.

"Gonna make you extra wet so you can take my cock, doll. Would you like that?" He asks and you reply with "yes, daddy". You can hear him extra crisp, the audio bouncing around the room. It's all too much, every fantasy of yours coming to life. You come against him, riding it out.

"You ready for more, my little fuckdoll? Can I?" He asks. You plead, you tell him you need him.

Joel makes sure to zoom the camera to your sopping cunt, showing you off to the chat. He fiddles with it, making sure it captures your greed. He sits on the chair, swatting your ass to get you up. Legs trembling, you do. He unzips his jeans, the sound as familiar to you as a notification on your phone. He puts it against you, just to give his viewers a preview on how deep he was gonna be in you.

"You think I'll fuck her up. Make this pussy memorize the shape of my cock. Let's give this pretty doll her first cervix bruising, shall I?" He says. He slides his cock in you in one swoop motion, not caring about the stretch.

"Just like that." You moan, dangerously close to saying his name. Joel spreads your legs and fucks into you. He's all grunts and swears, gone is his dirty talk. His hands are grabby, squeezing your thighs. He's so pussy whipped that he says

"Let me come inside you. Please. Need to.". The "yes, yes, daddy" is enough for him to do so and continue thrusting in you until he's soft. Joel rolls the chair forward, "manually zooming" his camera. His audience gets a pretty shot of his cum dripping out of you before the broadcast cuts out. He helps you up and draws a bath. If the camming paid for the clawfoot tub you saw, hell you'd join in more.

"You know, what we did was wrong. But it sure as hell felt right. I'm not saying we should do this daily. But maybe instead of both of us getting off on each other from afar, we can do it together." He asks, almost a schoolboy confession.

“Yes Joel, I wanna fuck you again too. Now shut and let me enjoy my life after taking your thick Texan beercan.”

[echantedtoon]

A Lovers' Circle (Poly Haishira x Reader) Ch28 Epilogue

Taglist: @shadyd3ar @jcrml

@tengensangel @miniverse-zen @mysteri0uz @jjamsbangtan

@the-unknown-fandom

@lavenderdropp @mimisweetz. @purplesoulsapphire

@kksmush @denkpanda18 @whomisi @lessthanimperfect @silver-rin

@namis-noodlebox

@k1ttyluverz @akiramente

@rascalraccoon @ravenclawkae1

@gilded-sunrays @crescent-blades

@yukari1k @bloodymarysgirl21

@artbyrebel @abaker74 @lunarluna9482

@rainbowidol @lanabanoms @whatarewe-choppedliver

(Hey everyone. I just wanted to thank everyone who read this far and liked my story enough to read it to it's end. I had a lot of fun writing it and it makes me happy knowing some people loved it enough to read it fully. If you liked this consider checking out my other works. Thanks to everyone for reading this, faving it, or leaving a nice comment. And thank you to Koyoharu Gotouge for creating such wonderful characters and giving me the opportunity to make this wonderful story.)

-ONE YEAR LATER-

The busy Hussle and bussle of the daycare was nothing new to you as you went about your business helping to get children checked out to their parents as usual after a long day of them taking classes and doing their part time jobs before coming back to collect their children at the end of the day. You were not different just having handed over a babbling baby over to her very tired looking mom and waved as she turned.

"Bye, Ms. Kokori. See you again next Monday! Safe driving now!," you cheerfully said as the woman left with her baby waving her tiny arms and babbling loudly.

As she approached the door, a white haired figure came up from the outside. Upon noticing the woman and baby, the figure opened the door and stepped back to allow her to walk through before he himself stepped inside. You smiled instantly at who had just walked into the lobby.

"Sanemi! Hi!" You beamed noticing the fact your partner had come walking into the lobby. "On time as usual I see. Did the cold get to you?"

In response the man in the thick cost shivered before shaking his head no. "No but I can't wait for spring to kick in that warm weather already. Burr. If it's this cold, I don't care what Tengen says, I'm not going out for Valentine's Day!"

It's hard to believe that it's been nearly a whole year since that fateful day. Possibly the best day of your life and now look at you all. You were in one giant happy healthy relationship with partners whom loved you very much, with a preschool internship lined up for you after you graduate this year, your partners were all going to graduate this year too, and you're much happier and healthier than you've ever been your entire life! All it took was a few more dates and deciding to give this a chance.

"I'm planning on just staying home and watching a movie. Maybe we all can have one big sleepover!"

He nodded. "Sounds like a plan. With take out and crap."

"Oh. Speaking of food.." He watched as you reached under the counter and pulled out a warm small box that instantly had him light up upon seeing it. "It's been a while since I made you some so here's some ohagi."

"Holy fu- Have I ever told you how much I love you?!" 

You giggled as he took the box from you. "Lots of times."

He instantly opened it up and reached inside, pulling out a single ohagi and in one bite biting it in half. He hummed contently at the warm sweet taste filling up his cold body. "I missed this so much. Oh my gods." His voice was slightly muffled by the food as he looked around. "Where's Mei?"

"He's helping clean the nursery since the last baby was picked up. We're deep cleaning the entire daycare today including the lobby." You gestured to where he stood. "But first we gotta wait for all the kids to get picked up. Speaking of which, you'd probably want Koto by now. Let me go get him. Oh. And all of you are still coming to dinner this Sunday to meet my aunt and Murata right?"

He nodded. You had definitely wanted your partners to meet your best friend and aunt. Your Aunt Dakita had been absolutely THRILLED about the idea of meeting them all while Murata you had to literally beg and pester him for two months before he agreed to finally come over and meet them all.

"Take your time. This is gonna be his last year here after all."

Ah. He was right. Koto was three right now but once he turned four he'd finally be old enough to be enrolled into the local preschool that taught kids and prepared them for their first grade elementary school. So this was going to be his last year here before Sanemi graduated and he'd be moved to Kimetsu Preschool. Right next to the Kimetsu Academy...Huh.

You paused as you turned to go retrieve his baby brother in thought. "Huh..Hey, Sanemi." He perked up in attention as you turned to him. "This is Kimetsu University, but the local school and preschool are Kimetsu Preschool and Kimetsu Academy. Do you this that all those two schools and the university are run by the same chairman?"

....He shrugged. "The hel- HECK if I know. I heard there's gonna be a new turnover at the local schools though. Maybe we can get a job there. It'd be great to teach at the same school my siblings are going to."

You nodded. "It would be wouldn't it?" You simply turned to go get Koto, you were just imagining things anyways.

The distant sounds of papers being shuffled on the desk was nothing new to the woman whom had done this for more than three years now, her heels clicking and echoing off the hall's walls as she got closer and closer to the office door. Without even knocking, she had opened up the door with a creak and let herself in walking up to a grand antique desk covered in more stacks of papers, some pens and pencils, and a two framed photos. One was of a coworker of hers with white hair and unique purple eyes. The other framed photos was five children that looked very much alike in school uniforms and smiling at the camera, four girls and one boy.

"Mr. Chairman, I've brought you the documents you had asked for."

The stack of papers was gently placed in front of the man admiring the children's photos with a soft smile seemingly not even having heard her but she knew better by now. A cheerful hum left his throat from how he slowly looked away from the picture and glanced at the stack of papers before him.

"I've also been getting some concerned comments from parents about Me. Rengoku's abilities as the senior gym instructor. Some are expressing that he's pushing the kendo and track teams too hard during training."

"That's because the last instructor failed to motivate and move them forward so they aren't used to working hard in physical activities. Mr. Shinjuro is doing a better job than I had imagined. Don't worry about the parents. I'll deal with any concerns at the next parent teacher conference."

"If you say so, Sir." She silently watched as he picked up the papers and began to casually flip through them. "May I ask you a question, Sir?" He hummed a yes without looking at her. "May I ask why you wanted me to pull up these specific student files from your university?"

The papers in his hands were all student files from Kimetsu University. All complete with photos and identification and grade records. She was confused why she wanted these twelve files specifically. They all had different names. Kanae Kocho. Giyuu Tomioka. Iguro Obanai. She had no idea why the Chairman would want these specific files. The only thing they had in common was that they were set to graduate this year if they kept their studies up. 

"Oh. No reason in particular." He smiled placing the stack to the side. "I just think having new possible candidates for my staff is very useful. Don't you agree, Nakime."

She didn't answer at first. These weren't the only files she pulled up for him. Another file had been for a music major, Kyogai something, she had forgotten his last name. And one a frw months ago, a woman by the name of Y/n L/n that was employed at the K U. daycare center, and the Chairman had sent an offer for an internship for his new preschool.

"I suppose so but wouldn't it be wiser to look at all the graduating candidates for this year, Mr. Ubuyashiki?"

"Actually I think I have made up my mind."

******

[4lexnilsen]

“helena wayne,  it sounds wildly inappropriate when you put it like that,”   alex points out with a laugh,  finding the wording incredibly awkward.   the size doesn’t matter.   technique does.   in the most immature,  boyish way,  it has him snickering into his other hand,  covering his face as embarrassment and amusement begin to mix on his rosy features.   “i’d ask you to describe the technique of wrist breaking to me,  but now i’m too scared you’ll just decide to show me how it’s done instead.”   all for pointing out that sexual joke she’d unintentionally made.   he has to admit,  playful remarks aside,  that it’s impressive how strong she is for someone who’s so small.   she most likely can’t make it on some disney rides,  but has no trouble putting quarterbacks in a headlock.   there’s something fascinating about that.   he’s worked out with her before and man does she got stamina.

“well,”   alex sighs,  gathering their skates and straightening up,  offering helena his arm in case she wants to hold onto him.   the path’s slippery,  after all.   he doesn’t want her to break a bone.   “i think it’s a little bit of both.   she didn’t want to go,  but also couldn’t because of the internship.   sarah and poppy don’t really get along well.   so,  this internship was a good excuse,  i guess.”   he feels awkward discussing this part of his life with his best friend,  knowing that she’s also not a big fan of his other best friend.   women’s minds and hearts can be so complicated…   “sarah and i…   we’ve had a few conversations about poppy.   they tolerate each other,  but i don’t think they truly enjoy each other’s company.   you know,  sarah can a bit cold and territorial,  and poppy’s…   well,  she’s somewhat eccentric,  but in a very adorable way.   anyway,  their personalities just clash a lot.”   because there’s a lot of jealousy involved.   but he doesn’t want to say it and have to dive into this subject.

“oh,  right…   nothing quite as boring as yacht parties,”   he laughs,  finding the idea so very abstract that he can’t even picture it.   a party on an actual yacht.   it’s such a subtle reminder of how they belong in two different worlds —   he’s never even been on a yacht,  and her father is a billionaire who can probably buy her a new one every month.   he can’t help but wonder if she feigns interest when he tells her about vancouver island or colorado,  if she’s only being kind.   it surely doesn’t impress her.   “that’s also my idea of a perfect summer,  a new book every few days,  iced lattes and blueberry cupcakes or a peach cobbler.”   sometimes,  he feels like their love for books is the only thing they truly have in common.   can friendship built solely on that survive the test of time?   “oh,  i’m sorry to hear that.   hope you still managed to have fun,  despite arguing.”   he feels repulsed with himself for finding joy in the fact that harry’s failing as a boyfriend,  as though that meant he could one day take his place.   god,  is he delusional?   or unfaithful?   both?

“don’t tell me he shrieks like a little girl when you go above the speed limit?   any chance there are some recordings of that?   asking out of curiosity,  not because i’d like to hear him shriek,  of course,”   alex can’t help the laugh that escapes him,  trying to imagine that.   “and what do they say about lana del rey girls?”   he inquires,  walking down the slippery path towards the rental counter where they initially got their skates to return them.   “oh,  i wish i’d been in the back,  too.   do me a favor and record your next trip for me,  just the highlights,  of course,”   he muses,  but a part of him can’t get over the strange jealousy.   he’s dating sarah,  why does he care who gets to take helena on summer trips?   “thanks for the offer,  but i don’t think harry would enjoy having me as a third wheel,  you know?   he’d probably try to drive off and leave me at a gas station or animal shelter.   my presence would only make the arguing part worse,  i fear.”   it’s supposed to be just a joke,  but is it?   he knows harry hates his guts and is only pretending to be cordial because he has no reason to openly hate him.   the too long comment doesn’t fly over his head,  but he doesn’t say anything.   still,  his heart misses another beat.   blushing as she touches his hair,  pale blue eyes growing sheepish.   harry doesn’t deserve this angel.   “yeah,  two years is a long time.   how’d you guys even met?   how’d you fall in love?”   why on earth would anyone love this man?

"i'll have you know, the size of someone doesn't matter... technique does." helena's fiercely informing while their hands are pressed together through their gloves. hers a lot smaller, but she's confident... as long as she isn't on ice, she could easily flip colby and then put alex in a headlock. "i know how to break a wrist, so in a way, these fists might be small but you'll ALL be so surprised and sorry when you hear the sounds of your bones starting to crack." soft amused laugh sounds from her because she knows how well he's underestimating her knowledge on being powerful despite her size, he's just lucky she'd never want to hurt him like that even if he's pushing it by making fun of her.

"she didn't want to go?" brows push into a confused crease. "i mean, who wouldn't want to go enjoy a cool place like that? especially spending time with their boyfriend... that's crazy." helena plays it off like that's what she meant, not what she's really thinking: finding suspicion in it. and confusion. it's like his girlfriend really doesn't even care a single thing on what he does. does this woman know no jealousy? and what was he THINKING about for so long? in the duration it took him to answer. "wait, hold on a sec... i'm confused. she didn't want to go or she couldn't go because the internship?" because want and couldn't are two different things... so which really is it? either way, it sounds a little off. just leaving your girlfriend behind like that. "but, right. yeah. i suppose that makes sense."

a little sting in her voice, because she wasn't going to sugar coat how it's kind of disrespectful. counting it as another reason crushing on him is a bad thing, that should DETER her from doing so. he has two other women in his life, she doesn't need to get caught up in this twilight love triangle. or square. it'd be different if poppy didn't act like a thirsty gremlin, but there was something about her she didn't like. it gives her dread and secondhand irritation just imagining that... being sarah, being his girlfriend and him and poppy taking off on their secret summer trip. because she wouldn't find herself chill with it unlike the seemingly calm sarah about it, then she'd get looked at as the bad guy and there she goes... head first, in another toxic relationship. he was sweet, putting her shoes back onto her feet, but that's why she had to be extra careful. there was something extremely confusing and easy to fall into a trap, because of him being so kind. harry wasn't even doting like this and here she is... stuck in mud with him. so this... is definitely dangerous territory.

"boring. i wanted to spend all summer at the library, he wanted to spend it at yacht parties. each versions of our own fun ended up boring each other. we did go to los angeles for a week trip, but we just fought and argued the entire time. speed demon'ing it across pacific coast high way with lana del rey playing was the most enticing part. thrilling in making harry shriek like a little girl, he was convinced i was going to send him in the ocean. you know what they say about the lana del rey girls after all..." helena quips, finally laughing again. because he probably didn't know. and the visual of COLA playing with the top down on her dad's mustang, while helena was dancing around and singing insanely over top of harry's yelling to 'pay attention helena!' was beyond HILARIOUS all over again. "i wish you'd been in the back." just to seen harry's yelling and freaking out. but what can she say? lana on blast just makes her hit the acceleration harder and her LEAD FOOT worse. "you should go with me next summer." tapping the curl above his forehead, poppy wants to intervene in her plans... she should get her back for last time that helena hasn't forgotten. ACCIDENTALLY schedule the L.A trip right on top of that date that's her special year trip. an eye for an eye, would only be fair. "too long." the words slip from her mouth without realizing what she just said until it's too late. "i mean, two years." moving the stray curl over, fixing it in place. she hates how cute he and his dark curls look.

[slfcare]

the most difficult thing about growing as a person socially, as in getting out of your shell and noticing that you are, is that there will still be times when it doesn’t feel like you’ve grown at all! times when you can’t really connect with anyone around you, times when you fail to enter into an existing conversation, times when you say the wrong thing (or nothing at all when in hindsight you probably should’ve). but that’s also kind of the best thing, because that’s the thing that helps you realize that sometimes, it’s not you or your lack of skills or any shortcoming. sometimes certain environments just aren’t for you and certain people aren’t your people, and that’s okay. that’s human. it’s okay to not feel the progress you have made all the time.

[mueritos]

trying to be more accepting of the likelihood I am autistic, I feel ive been having this constant back and forth conversation with myself for the past 2 years about it. "you can go to school, be a therapist for people, run errands, win awards, and somehow fit 2 jobs into all of that" and I use that as proof that I am NOT autistic...however, realizing i lose an entire weekend for a trip? distress. fire alarm goes off in the middle of the night and leaves me trembling, crying, and forced to recover? oh boy i wonder why that happened. feeling confused and like i'm constantly missing something when people express themselves in class or in the workplace? hm, it's almost as if I struggle to not take their language literally.

i don't think i've ever been allowed to be "disabled" by whatever neurodivergency and its symptomology, like, ever. god speed any other neurodivergent children of immigrants, but i don't feel allowed to let any cluster of disturbances or schedule changes or social conundrums disable me. I mean, they can affect me privately, where I am forced to stim and cry and process all on my own. But unfortunately i cannot look like the misshapen freak I feel I am, or well, as least not appear so in a socially unacceptable way.

it's funny i carry so much shame. i am unmasking in ways i never thought i could. i am allowing myself to take things literally with people, and I am allowing myself to ask more questions. "what did you mean by that?" "why did you use that word to describe that?" "can you rephrase that?" it's funnier that I am at such a queer and neurodiverse internship; nearly all of the other clinical staff have some sort of diagnosis (usually adhd/ocd/with flavors of trauma), and we all serve a population of the queerest and most neurodiverse students. i feel SO happy when I see a student and they refuse to make eye contact with me, because I take it as an invitation to NOT look them in the eye too! i tell students during our sessions feel free to stim, here's a weighted plushie you can hold, sit where you like, would you like to pace, should I dim the lights? it is even funnier that i am a neurodivergent clinician working with neurodivergent people, and half the time I dont even follow the same advice I give my clients!

i worry about what my life will look like when i've graduated. my master's will say, "hey, this guy is a clinical social worker and is now ready to be your therapist! or caseworker! whatever they have you people do nowadays!" and I don't think i feel ready to enter any workforce. how on earth will i manage my life and wellbeing doing this 40 hours a week? like wtf? ugh.

i dunno. these r just rambles and perhaps im just seeking some sort of comfort from other autistic people, especially because it feels like i have very few autistic people in my life. i know a lot of the validation i seek will be "resolved" if i seek out an official diagnosis, but I don't have time or $ for that. nor do I think I want one for a number of reasons. I should just continue working on my own self-esteem when it comes to most likely being autistic.

oh well

[astonmartingf]

When r u updating!

uhm to be honest, i have no idea when 😬

thank you for asking though !!!! because i am still writing in my drafts, maybe next week after my exams, i'm still trying to manage my schedule and now that i'm a month in, i already know the ropes, plus rn i'm assigned at the more busy parts of the laboratory and every shift makes me want to sleep immediately and prepare for the next shift but in a few weeks we will be rotating and finally moving to the less busy areas so i might have more time to write and actually post my drafts n e ways!!!! here are my drafts which you might see that i've written it over a month ago but that's what internship does to me so 💪

[reinanova]

question for the fanfic readers (and writers) who are out here working full time jobs:

how/when do you make time to read/write fanfics?

my tendency to read fanfics late at night will not be such a good idea when i’m out of school and working in the real world, when i can’t just say fuck it and show up with only a few hours of sleep.

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

one thing abt being disabled/chronically ill that some people don’t get is that sometimes body maintenance that ensures you have the absolute minimum amount of function can also be something that takes away a lot of control and autonomy. you can argue till the cows come home that making those decisions to try and help yourself (or realistically to try to make sure things aren’t worse than they already are) is something that exhibits control and autonomy and stuff, but they can be so limiting in practice because they’re things that take up so much time but have to be done to do anything else

[miodiodavinci]

the burnout is real lads . . . . .

[isanyonetoknow]

sometimes people will talk about how you shouldn’t feel tired because you don’t do as much work as them and that it isn’t normal to feel tired so often and that you should actually do more work because it’d be better for you but ohhh you don’t want to? Ok ok just know how much you’re failing yourself and also get more work anyways. and then they’ll be confused as to why you don’t want to share things with them or why you like being alone or away.

[gideonisms]

my advisor keeps telling me to do different things in every single email my friend I simply need to know which semester I should apply for graduation for and whether I need to take Another clep

[mitamicah]

.

[thedisablednaturalist]

Zookeepers could never go on strike cause that means their beloved animal coworkers would die. The national zoo relies a lot on underpaying their zookeepers and relying on unpaid internships and volunteers. I'm sure many other zoos are like this as well. It should be a part of AZA accreditation that zookeepers are paid according to their educational and work experience. Most of these guys are required to have at least a masters. And are paid $15 an hour OR LESS. And DC isn't a cheap place to live.

The zoo lives and breathes off of the passion of these people.

I actually got to talk to the previous director (who now was directing a different big zoo) and I asked two questions:

1. How can disabled people get jobs at your zoos, what jobs would be accessible to someone like me (wheelchair user)

2. What are your plans on increasing paid internships and wages for zookeepers?

The first one she said that working with the aquatic species or small reptiles would be best, since the reptile house is accessible despite being older. She said she would think about it and get back to me (she never did, but tbf shes extremely busy and I didn't continuously ping her)

2. They've been having meetings and workgroups trying to figure out how to increase pay and paid opportunities especially for people from low-income areas, as they are less able to take unpaid internships as they need to support themselves. Zoo budgets are extremely tight even for the Smithsonian.

Now idk if that's true, I'm sure it's mostly true at least, and most of the blame is on the government for not providing more funding to these places and instead most funding goes to the military and giving the rich fat tax cuts.

It just feels like most of us in the environmental and conservation field are extremely underpaid for the work we do. And if we strike our beloved animals and environments suffer.

[riv-rs]

sgdshfjgds i need a protest to be in my own city at this point cause i'm officially too poor to move to any of the ones going on this weekend

[lambentplume]

yapping aimlessly tonight

[e77y]

Trying to fix my resume ☝️🤓 Small problem: I sound like a loser no matter what