#and talk to customers on the phone and solve their problems

[mysillycomics]

[eclipsecrowned]

if it helps i'm not entirely convinced that their so called helpline wasn't a massive scam or attempt to phish either, and i know for sure it was an official channel for customer and it support pushed by corporate.

[wutheringcaterpillar]

Hi! I’m wondering if you would be willing to write a fic where the snobby wife of Emmett or Lenny wants to have a surrogate with an advanced method (which he agreed to because he’s faithful to his wife), instead of having a baby of their own because the wife didn’t want to ruin their body. While they’re searching for the candidate, they found Y/N and the wife didn’t want her as the surrogate, but he doesn’t give a damn and wants her to be the surrogate the traditional way which he didn’t care if it ruins his marriage.

Summary: The neighbor who plays games through the window happens to be a more than willing candidate to solve one of Lenny’s many marriage problems. Warnings: age gap (reader is 20), breeding kink, surrogacy, cheating (kinda), surrogacy, a fucked marriage, slight lactation kink mentioned

Thank you for the request! This is my first Lenny fic, hope you enjoy ❤️

The Millers had been married for nearly two years, Lenny’s wife Marsha was a force to be reckoned with. She owned her own catering business and after a year or two it took off and she began to bring in money, not being so kind to the potential customers that couldn’t afford her “top tier” service.

Sitting in the kitchen Lenny was enjoying his morning coffee (black of course), and ignoring the screeching sound of Marsha complaining about every thing under the sun, as if she didn’t always get her way.

Lenny swore that if breathed even remotely in her vicinity, she would get pissed off. There had been talks of a baby but with Marsha being infertile, the only option on the table was surrogacy.

Lenny already had a contender in mind, someone he’s had his eyes on for quite some time.

Ending the phone call she was on, she turned to her husband with curious look on her face. Funny how her mood changes as soon as she wants something from him.

“Did you find anyone yet dear? I haven’t had much luck.” Matter of fact he did, but whether or not she was going to agree was a different conversation that he could already presume the answer.

“Well what about Y/N? She’s young and in her twenties. She’d be great” His wife glanced at him with an incredulous look of disgust.

“The twenty year old across the street? Absolutely not, she’s a stuck up prissy little whore. Always walking around in those horrendous shorts and crop tops. I want our child to be sophisticated and wise not a bimbo Lenny. Find someone else.” His wife had never taken the time to get to know you the way he did. Rolling his eyes, he glanced across the street, seeing you sprawled out in the grass laying on your stomach reading a book on this hot summer day.

Lenny had wanted you for a long time now. There had been a continuation of stolen glances, innocent flirtatious banter. 

Unbenknownst to his wife, he spent an endless amount of time staring out the window, watching you put on a show for him trying on different lingerie, playing with your breasts and touching yourself. 

You were a delicacy he craved to indulge in.

Hearing the car door slam, he waited for his wife to be out of sight before walking over to your property, his tall silhouette blocking the sun and forming a shadow of your reading.

Glancing up, you lowered your sunglasses and purposefully propped your ass up. A mischievous smile smearing across your face.

“Mr. Miller! Can I assist you with something? ” You batted your eyelashes playfully before closing the engorging old novel. He took note you were reading the classical “The Great Gatsby.” He was always a fan of seeing young readers indulging in works of early literature.

“Actually you can, may we go inside and have a chat?” Giggling and smirking, you nodded for him to follow you into the house, offering him a drink in the process and insisting that he take a seat.

A part of you was curious what this handsome, impeccably clean man could want from you, was it sex? An affair? Maybe he was leaving his wife. 

“So what do I owe the pleasure Mr. Miller?” He folded his leg on top of the other, trying to hide the fact you didn’t call him Lenny or Leonard turned him on immensely. He tried not to stare at your ass as you reached for a glass on the top shelf of your kitchen, but your cheeks were nearly falling out at this point. Fuck how he’s tried to be a good husband, but the way Marsha has been lately, the caring aspect of his marriage was dwindling into nothing.

“Allow me to start of by saying you have a beautiful place. My wife actually, she wants to have a baby but she’s infertile. I was wondering if you’d want to do the honors? I know it’s a lot to ask, a lot to put your body through but-Oh!” His words diminished when you set the glass of water down and kicked apart his legs, placing your knee firmly against his growing shaft causing his breath to hitch in his throat.

“You want to put a baby in me? Is that it?” His crystal blue eyes seemed to wander to your cleavage that was sitting blatantly in front of his face. Tipping his chin up, demanding his eye contact you grazed your hand over his upper arm, gripping at the muscular tone of his bicep instead sending chills down his spine as he withheld a moan.

“Eyes are up here sweetheart…” His heart palpitated in his chest, arousal building as his brain went haywire from the alluring lock of yours eyes. Scanning and searching the older man with interest and  before taking his hand and settling it on the cushion of your boob.

“Ye-yes but not, not the injection way. I want to fuck you, I’ve been wanting to fuck you. We may have to do it a few times just to- to make sure it takes.” He gulped desperately, not even noticing the massaging movement of his hand on your breast.

Pulling away with a playful grin, you passed him his glass of water and returned to the sink when you noticed his wife’s car pull back into the driveway.

“How are you going to convince your wife? I know she hates me.”

Lenny chugged his glass, wiping at the sweat building at the nape of his neck, what he wouldn’t do to take you here, right over this god damn table. Standing from his seat, he held a firm stance and tucked his hands in his pockets.

“I can be very persuasive. I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t play with that pretty little pussy until I’m here, got it?” You nodded playfully at his demand and motioned for him to go.

Walking back to his house, Marsha was standing in the doorway leaning on the frame with fury in her eyes, but Lenny wasn’t having any if it.

Shoving past his wife, she began yelling obscenities, demanding to know why he was in your fucking house after she made it perfectly clear you weren’t an option.

He put her complaints to a hault, turning around and pointing his finger directly in her face.

“I’ve been more than willing to give you what you want but it’s about time that I get what I want. Don’t act like I don’t know about the emails with Steven or that you’ve been racking up debt with my credit cards. Let’s not forget I work for the god damn CIA, I’m not a fool like you make me out to be I think it’s only fair sweetheart. I will be fucking her, and you will agree or you won’t be getting a fucking baby. Not from me.” She stood there mouth agape left speechless. If she thought she had an upper hand she was sadly mistaken. Before she could protest Lenny simply raised an eyebrow before heading back across the street.

He’d taken his wife’s shit for far too long and it ends here regardless of possibly jeopardizing his marriage.

Bursting through the door with a pit of fire in his stomach, when he heard the shower running he ran up the stairs, patience non existent.

Ripping open the shower curtain, his sapphire eyes settled on your soapy body, causing you to scream from the sudden surprise. Before you had a chance to say anything he was stepping to the shower, drenching his close while he closed the distance and pressed your wet body against the wall, locking his lips with yours instantly taking your breath away while embracing the hot water drenching him.

He smelt of teakwood and mint, so alluring and consuming as your hands tangled in the strands of his once well combed hair, nails dragging and pushing his lips in closer, tongues intertwining and swirling in profound desire lust.

“I’m glad you made it to me, gonna breed me hm? Knock me up with your baby.” 

“Going til fill you to the brim over and over again til that tummy is plump.”

Dropping to your knees and undoing his zipper, you released his cock, eyes going wide with excitement when the eager member popped out, merely slapping against his abdomen.

Lenny knew he was big but he was mature and grateful about it and all he could think about was stretching that tight little pussy.

Gripping the shaft, your hand moved swiftly and slowly around the girth of his cock, massaging the sensitive skin before your lips enveloped the head os his cock.

An exasperated gasp escaped Lenny’s lips at the sudden warmth and slippery slope of your hallowed cheeks.

You moaned around his length, staring up at him with lustful eyes from your kneeling position. 

“Such a dirty girl.” He moved the strands of hair from the front of your face, locking the laces inbetween his digits watching you swallow his length fully, mascara flowing messily down your cheeks.

You were such a sight for sore eyes, he could feel his heart palpitate in his chest seeing you in such a vulnerable position bobbing your head up and down. If he stayed like this he wouldn’t last very long.

Lifting you up, he carried you into the bedroom, laying you down before aligning his cock with your dripping cunt, sliding inside of your tight walls effortlessly.

The sight of your flawless, young, nude body on didplay for him so up close and personal, sent a thrill up his spine, peaking his arousal.

Your nipples glowed in the sunlight, back arching in desperation from the stretch of him, your walls clenching to his every inch.

“You are indisputably insatiable.” He breathed out as your fingers trailed down his chest before pulling down by his neck into a fruitful kiss.

He pumped in and out of you relatively slowly, wanting to relish in the moment, focusing on your warmth squeezing his shaft, aching purely for him.

The feeling of disbelief that this was actually happening still fluttering around your mind as he stuffed you.

“Fuck me Lenny. I mean really fuck me.” He scanned your needing eyes, raising an eyebrow questioning whether or not your body could handle it.

“Don’t hold back, I need you to consume me, own me, right…now.”

Placing his hands on your thighs, he pulled your body down slamming you down onto his cock, bottoming out in your alluring sex.

“Oh! Fuck!” You bit down on your bottom lip from the feeling of being so full, making direct eye contact with his charismatic blue eyes as he fucked you relentlessly. Your boobs bouncing up and down ferociously fast with each power driven thrust.

“Can’t wait to see that tummy full with my baby, can’t wait to fuck you when your boobs are leaking milk and you’re begging to be fucked more than you are now. Fuck..” Beads of sweat formed at his temple, hair falling in front of his face while his eyes darkened, the animalistic sexual instincts kicking in. Your hands grasped at his shoulder, grinding down against his bush needing more and more, your pussy throbbing from the constant brushing of his cock against your clit. He was an experienced man and it was quite clear he knew how to pleasure a woman, turning you on even more.

“Fuck, fuck Lenny…wanna- wanna feel your seed- wanna-need to-“ Your words faltered as you crumbled beneath him, his eyes never leaving yours, noting the visible sexual distress you were in.

The sound of your desperate voice moaning his name making him pulsate inside you, he was on the edge, so close to cumming but he was a man of honor and determined to get you off first.

Lifting your legs, he placed your ankles around his shoulders, rutting into you, balls slapping against the bare of your skin.

His cock smacked against your cervix with each movement in this position. You wouldn’t last long, especially with his intimidating yet attractive stare. A man had never been so focused on you and your pleasure during sex until now.

“Want my baby in you? Want to feel my cum drenching that pretty pussy, hm?” Your lips parted, mouth falling open when your body convulsed, back arching as your orgasm approached very sneakily.

“Yes! Yes! Give me what your wife can’t fucking have…fuck, I’m going to fucking cum Lenny I’m..” Your breaths became staggered, moans becoming louder as your ankles locked behind his neck, toes curling at the anticipating high.

“Go on darling, cum for me, cum on my cock while I put a baby in you. Show me how much you needed me.” Within seconds your walls came tumbling down, your core shaking from the intensity of the euphoric, palpable orgasm.

Lenny watched as you come undone beneath him, and with one last detrimental thrust, you felt his cock pulsating and the pool of his seed coating your inner walls, rushing straight to your uterus.

He fell down on the bed beside you as you both tried to steady your breathing.

Glancing over at one another in a heated craze, he kissed you once more with profound passion.

“Water break?” You gulped, unsure if your overstimulated cunt could take it. Within twenty minutes you were right back at it.

The following weeks he continued to fuck you, wanting to ensure the chance of pregnancy to just get his wife to shut the fuck up about having a baby. She didn’t have to like who it was with, she should have been grateful that he would even give her what she wanted most, that you would help even though you both knew this was a selfish arrangement but then again, Marsha was the quern of selfishness.

Within a month you’d notice your period never showed. After taking three tests, you were stunned to read the results. 

Changing into an outfit you knew would piss his wife off, you skipped across the street with the tests in hand.

Knocking at the door with a wide grin on your face, to your surprise Marsha answered her smile turning into a deceitful frown when she saw the positive pregnancy sticks in your hand.

“Who’s at the door I’m expecting-“ Lenny’s words came to a hault when he witnessed the scene, his wife’s head turning back to face him in anger and resentment but he didn’t feel the least bit sorry, instead wanting Marsha to feel how she often made him feel, like shit.

“Well you’ve got what you wanted didn’t you? Go on thank Y/N for being such a kind service.” Through gritted teeth and possibly the fakest smile you’d ever seen she thanked you unwillingly kindly for being a such a big help. Forever knowing her husband fucked the neighbor girl, and that would not be the last time that her husband would be over there, regardless of the original arrangement.

[holylulusworld]

SHG for killers (1) - The first meeting

Summary: 6 men meet up to talk about their problems. They soon realize they need someone to help them solve their problems. This person is you. Whether you like it or not.

Pairing: Steve Kemp x fem!Reader, Lloyd Hansen x fem!Reader, Robert Pronge (Mr. Freezy) x fem!Reader, Andy Barber x fem!Reader, God, the bounty hunter x fem!Reader, Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of murder/killing for money, serial killers/hitmen, mentions of blood/gore, talk about crimes, self-help group for killers/hitmen, world building, we get to know the men first

Self-help group for killers masterlist

“IT STINGS!” His screams of pain and agony echo in Lloyd Hansen’s mind when he wakes from another restless slumber.

He’s a stone-cold mercenary. Merciless and fearless. Or he was. That was until a certain former CIA lapdog pissed onto everything Lloyd stands for. It doesn’t help that he lost two fingers while hunting Six down.

“Bastard,” he curses under his breath as his eyes focus on his hand mutilation. “Still miss my pussy fingers,” Lloyd grumbles angrily. “Wait until I find you, Sierra Six. You’re a dead man; you just don’t know it yet.”

He closes his eyes, replaying the scene again. Lloyd grits his teeth, remembering how he got into a grapple with Six, who blew off Lloyd's left pinkie and ring finger.

The finger prosthetics don’t make him feel better. Sierra’s win over him, the loss of his fingers and reputation, still stings. His self-confidence and ego were not only bruised but torn in two.

For months, he fails mission after mission. His team is long gone, and so is his patience. Lloyd is angry and out for blood. Preferable Sierra Six’s blood.

He tried anything to find the renegade assassin. So far, he didn’t even find a trace. Sierra Six is a master at hiding from his enemies. Lloyd gives him that.

“One day, you’ll pay for what you did.”

“No drugs. No contact with other offenders. No missing an appointment,” Ransom’s probation officer recites all the rules he must follow. “Mr. Drysdale, did you even listen?”

“All of you are telling me the same thing.” Ransom sneers. “You’re the fifth guy in not four months. I know the rules.” He leans back in the uncomfortable and cheap chair the probation officer offered him. “All of you try to get me behind bars again; I get it. You’re pissed because I got earlier than everyone expected.”

“Mr. Drysdale,” the probation officer replies, watching Ransom munch another cookie. “I really don’t have the time to make plans to get you behind bars again. That’s not in my job description. If you don’t have any problems, we can end the meeting for today.”

“Shit, just a sec.” Robert doesn’t have the time to talk to his ex today. “Listen, you got the money and the car. Let’s part on good terms.” He’s poorly hiding his anger. If she says one more word, he’ll sneak into her new apartment and kill her and the bastard who’s banging her brains out now. “I got a job to do.”

Robert hangs up the phone. He’s not done with the body yet. The client wants proof that her husband is dead. She’s a naughty one, Robert thinks to himself while getting the saw out. Well, all for customer satisfaction.

The doctor is not happy. He tried anything to make sure his business was flowing. Sadly, some people try to stop him from being successful.

“You had to cross me, didn’t you?" He looks down at his former partner and sneers. “We could’ve made so much money. But you had to find your conscience.”

Steve kicks the dead man, grunting as he’s bleeding on the brand-new carpet at his office. Killing his partner wasn’t in his plans for today. It’s not the first time he got his hand dirty.

If Steve were honest, he’d admit that he likes to get his hands dirty. As a doctor, he should save other people’s lives, not take them. Still, he can’t help but feel excited about his latest decision.

Watching the family grieve over the death of their recently killed father and husband, God furrows his brows. He never understood human emotions. The man he killed was a tyrant. He betrayed his business partners, terrorized his family, and cheated on his wife.

The man remains in his hideout to watch the family and friends mourn their loss. Lately, he likes to stick around to watch their reaction. Some scream. Others silently cry.

God likes the ones who put on a show for others the most. He did so all his life. Pretending in public that he’s a normal guy.

The truth is, he feels hollow because he never belonged...

Andy Barber steps out of the courtroom with his head held high. He won another case and can’t help but smirk as his opponent seems to be salty.

“Barber,” the prosecutor says, venom in his voice. “Congratulations on letting another monster go free.”

“If you wanted them in jail,” Andy says, and he dips his head to watch his client smirk at the victims of his cruelty, “you should’ve been a better lawyer.”

Andy walks toward his client, a spring in his step to shake the monster’s hand. He smirks and assures the man he deserves to walk out of the courtroom as a free man. Andy squeezes the man’s hand hard, making him wince. Who would’ve thought a lawyer could be so strong?

The serial rapist ends up dead after the accused was acquitted for lack of evidence. Lloyd recites the newspaper. “I see you’ve been very active lately, Barber. Do I need to remind you to keep it low?”

“No one asked you,” Andy shoots back. He doesn’t know why he’s still coming to the so-called self-help group. Andy doesn’t feel guilty for killing his clients. Who else would punish them for their crimes? “They had a choice, Hansen. It wasn’t me letting him go.”

“He’s not wrong,” Ransom says between munching a cookie and sipping on the expensive mochaccino he bought on his way to the group. “Baber got a point there.”

“Who asked you, amateur?” Robert sneers. He just can’t stand Barber or Drysdale. They are not worth his time, or so he thinks. He’s fine with Hansen and the guy calling himself God. They are like him—professionals. “I don’t even know why you, Mr. Lawyer, are here.”

“I invited them,” Hansen grunts. “If you want to leave, you can go anytime. I founded this group, not you.”

“Man, stop making a fuss!” Pronge shows his palms. “I only wanted to point out that they are not professionals. What if the cops find out about their hobby? What if they decide to get a deal and rat us out?”

Lloyd snorts. He looks at the black leather glove hiding his prosthetic fingers. “No one rats Lloyd Hansen out. We all agreed on complete secrecy. What we discuss here stays within this room.”

Andy rubs his bearded chin. Coming to the group to talk about the crimes he committed helped him improve. Lloyd and God even gave him advice on how to make his crimes look like accidents. “I’m going to therapy now,” he admits. “Not to talk about my hobby, though.”

“Therapy, huh?” Lloyd taunts, while Ransom smirks. God and Robert busy themselves with checking their phones for new clients. “I hope you’re not talking about our little group with the doctor.”

Steve sneers. “Don’t call these incompetent wannabes doctors. They are by all means nothing but pathetic losers trying to tell you how to live your life.”

“No one asked you, Dr. Frankenstein,” Ransom snaps at Steve. “Did you work on some nice asses and tits lately?”

“Shut up,” Steve jumps up, knocking his chair over. “At least I got a job, and I don’t live off my family’s money.”

“Shut up yourself!” Ransom puts his cookies aside and throws the rest of his mochaccino at Steve.

“Gentlemen!” Lloyd yells at Steve and Ransom. “We come here to talk about our problems and help each other improve. I didn’t come here, freezing my ass off on the way to watch you fight like girls over the latest fashion trend.”

“The therapy helps me more than coming here,” Andy raises his voice. “Your advice was good, but I think I’ll stick to her.”

The men stop fighting and stare at Andy.

“Her?” Lloyd licks his lips. “You’ve got a pretty little doctor for your therapist? Why didn’t you tell us before? We would’ve been all ears.”

“Why does this make a difference?” Andy cocks a brow. “She’s got a good reputation and listens to me. I talked to her for months, and she never pressured me into talking about my family.”

“Boohoo, your wife killed your murderous son and is as dead as your latest victim,” Lloyd mocks Andy. “Let’s talk about that pretty ass you’re seeing. Show us her reputation and shit.”

“Why?” Andy sighs deeply. He knew it was a mistake to talk about you and your sessions.

“For science,” Lloyd grins and snatches the phone out of Andy’s hand. Before Andy can protest, Lloyd throws the phone at God, nodding at him. “Unlock it, and look for the doc.”

Steve rolls his eyes. He didn’t come here to talk about some therapist. “Can we go back to business? Barber has a therapist. Maybe he even bangs her. Who cares?”

“Bangs her?” That picked Lloyd’s interest. “Not the worst idea. Maybe as a new version of therapy. Fuck all the bad memories out of her sweet cunt.”

“Got it,” God says and throws the phone at Lloyd. Y/N Y/L/N,” he recites your address and contact information. “She looks cute.”

“Cute?” Ransom laughs. “I didn’t know the word cute in your vocabulary. Show me.” Ransom walks toward Lloyd to look at the phone in his hands. “Not bad. Hey Barber, does she have a cute ass too?”

“Why are we talking about some woman? If our meeting is over, I’ll go back to business,” Steve says as he gets up. He wants to walk past Lloyd but glances at the phone. “Hmm…I’ve seen her before.”

Steve snatches the phone out of Lloyd’s hands. He looks at the pictures of you, licking his lips.

“Stop stalking my therapist,” Andy angrily says. “Can I get my phone back now?”

“I remember now,” Steve exclaims while staring at your pictures. “She accompanied one of her patients. They wanted surgery, but she talked them out of it. I hated her.” He shrugs.

“I bet she’s an uptight little doctor,” Lloyd muses. His smirk darkens as he looks at the men he brought together around two years ago. “Barber, did you already have a taste? I bet she tastes like strawberries.”

“Hansen, that is enough,” Andy grumbles. He snatches the phone out of Lloyd’s hands and turns to leave. “This was a waste of time!”

“Not to me.” Lloyd clenches and unclenches his fists. “I think I found something that will help us improve as a group. You all came here to talk about your problems and to get better at what you’re doing. I think this sweet doctor will be a big help.

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[inmyicyworld]

Jersey

College! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Natasha’s idea of getting a jersey with Bucky’s name turned out to be much better than you expected.

Words count: 3.2k

Warnings: established relationships, SMUT, unprotected sex (but they’re both safe and clean), dirty talk, sex in the locker room, a lot of pet names, Bucky is needy and caring, he’s deeply in love.

Author’s note: hey everyone! thank you for your feedback on my last posts, it means a lot to me. so this is my first smut, and I hope you’ll enjoy it. (I became creative with that photo of the red jersey because I couldn’t find a perfect picture, so I edited it for like half an hour😭)

I have many ideas for my future works, but you have something interesting in mind, feel free to write me about it. Maybe I get some inspiration and create something🩷🦋

*English is not my first language. Sorry if you find any mistakes*

masterlist my ao3 ko-fi

It’s been another game for the "Avengers", where your boyfriend Bucky Barnes was a quarterback. Today was one of the most important games against "Hydra" – their biggest enemy. Obviously, you couldn't miss the game, and Natasha, your best friend and roommate, will be with you as always. And right now, she has convinced you to do something that has been on your mind for a long time.

"C’mon, It’ll be fun. He’ll like it, I promise!" She said as you two stood near the place that made custom t-shirts with any prints. And at this moment, Natasha wanted you to order a jersey with Bucky’s number and his name on it.

"I don’t know, Nat. I mean, I want to do it, but what if he thinks that it’s too much?" You nervously played with the hem of your skirt.

"Now stop it." She stood before you and put her hand on her hips like a mother who was scolding her child. "You’ve been dating for more than a year, and his guy loves you so fucking much that he can’t even tear his eyes from you every time you two are in the same room. So when I tell you that he’ll love it, I mean it." You silently looked at her for a few minutes, but when she questionably raised her eyebrow, you finally gave up.

"Fine, you won. I hate you."

"I love you too, baby." Nat chuckled and dragged you to the store.

It seemed like there were thousands of people because everyone wanted to see one of the most important games of the season. People were already taking their seats, but you and Nat went straight to the locker room to wish the guys good luck. Trainer Fury was very strict about this, and it was forbidden for people not from the team to go there, but for some reason Nat always found a way to solve this problem.

"Guys!" Natasha loudly knocked at the door. "Are all of you already dressed up? I’m not in the mood to see somebody’s ass today!"

"Come in!" You heard Thor’s loud voice.

"Oh, I see our support group is here." As soon as you two walked in, Sam ended up between you and Nat and threw his hands over your shoulders, leading you deeper into the room. "Barnes will be here soon; don’t worry."

"Okay. Are you guys ready to beat their asses?" You smiled and looked at the almost entire team that had come to see you and Nat.

"Don’t worry, Sweets, we’ll win, as always." Tony answered you while he was cleaning his helmet. "But you should tell your boyfriend to stay away from Rumlow, or else he’ll be suspended again. By the way, is that jersey with his name?" You quietly nodded as the whole team made an impressive ‘woo’ together.

"You two are disgustingly sweet, you know that?" Sam rolled his eyes, and at the same time, the door slammed. "It’s him; go give him some kisses for luck."

"Shut up, Samuel." You laughed and left their little circle to find Bucky looking at his phone. "Don’t you want to say hi, James?" He moved his eyes to you, and his face immediately lit up with happiness.

"I just wanted to text you." He threw his phone on the bench and came closer to wrap his arms around you. "Hi, doll. I missed you so much today." He mumbled into your neck.

"I missed you too, Buck." You smiled when your heart filled with all the love you had for that man. "But wait, I have to show you something." You slipped out of his hands, excited and nervous at the same time. "Look what I’ve got!" You happily turned around to show Bucky your back and flipped your hair to the side so he could see everything better. "Do you like it?"

You had a big red jersey on you, to which Bucky didn't even pay attention at first. But when you turned around, his mouth went dry and his whole body became fuzzy. You had his number 17 and the word "Barnes" on your back. You were wearing his name.

For a few seconds, he was silent. He didn't answer your answer either, so with confusion written on your face, you faced him again, only to see a weird look on his face.

"What? You don't like it? Should I take this off? I'm sorry…" You started to apologize, only to be interrupted by his low voice.

"Don't you dare take this off, Y/N." He suddenly came closer to you again, and the next thing you knew, your back was slapped against the metal lockers when Bucky’s lips attacked you. He kissed you passionately and deeply, pressing his body against yours as if he was desperate to touch you and feel you closer. You couldn’t hold back the quiet moan that escaped your mouth when he tilted your head with his hand, helping his tongue slip into your mouth.

You thought that you heard the screams of the boys on the other side of the room, but they were really muffled when your head was filled with the thought of your boyfriend’s soft lips and warm skin. Bucky finally broke the kiss, leaving you two catching your breath while he put his forehead on yours and closed his eyes.

"You don’t understand what you’re doing to me. You look so fucking hot in this jersey, I want to fuck you right now." He whispered so only you could hear. "You made me hard, doll." To prove his words, he pushed his hips a little bit closer to you so you could feel the hardness.

"‘M sorry; I didn’t know that you would react like that."

"Hey, Buck, we should already go." Bucky’s grip on your waist became only tighter, when he heard Steve’s voice, and he nuzzled into your neck.

"Give me a minute."

"The game is gonna start soon."

"I said, give me a minute, Steve!" He said it louder. Bucky deeply inhaled, and it was obvious that he just needed some time to calm down.

"Shh, it’s okay, James." You put your hands through his hair because you knew that it would instantly relax him. "You're gonna win this game, right? And without fights." 

"I’ll do everything for you. I just love you so much, doll." He whispered into your neck when his body finally relaxed and he was able to move away from you.

"I love you too, James." He quickly kissed you again before turning around to face the team, who had knowing smirks on their faces.

"You two should get a room." Sam had an annoyed look on his face.

"Don’t worry, Birdbrain, we will. Are you ready for the game, or are you gonna stand here and complain all day?" Bucky winked at you and went out of the room without waiting for the answer from Sam.

"So…" Natasha suddenly appeared near you. "Did you make The White Wolf hard by just wearing a shirt with his name on it?" She grinned, as it was her original plan that worked.

"Oh, shut up!"

The game was tough. Hydra played dirty as always, and Bucky almost got into a fight with Rumlow during the intense moment. You almost jumped out of the seat during the last few minutes of the game, and when "Avengers" finally won, you and Natsha screamed at the top of your lungs.

As soon as the team was done cheering and hugging, Bucky looked at the seat where you were supposed to be but saw only Nat, who pointed at you already standing near the rim. He ran to you with the biggest smile on his face, and when he finally reached you, he crushed his lips into yours.

You didn’t care that many people looked at you, even though you knew that some particular groups of girls would gossip about it for the next week because… well, everyone wanted your boyfriend. You just wrapped your hands around his sweaty neck and pulled him closer to you as far as you could with a fence between you two.

"I’m so proud of you, baby." You whispered into his lips. "You were amazing as always."

"Thank you, doll. I'm happy that you’re here with me." He looked into your eyes as his right thumb rubbed your cheek.

"You know I couldn’t miss your game, especially if it’s that important."

"Mhm, can you… come to the locker room in like twenty minutes?" Bucky nervously licked his lips.

"To the locker room? I thought we were going to celebrate it with the team as always."

"Maybe later, but I’m thinking of something, so come, ‘kay?" He started to go back to the field, but not before giving you another sweet kiss on the lips.

You sat in the cafeteria for about twenty minutes, passionately waiting for the appropriate time to go to the locker room because you really didn’t want to see another naked man that wasn’t your boyfriend. One such experience was enough for you. You asked Nat to come with you, but when you repeated Bucky’s words to her, she just gave you a mysterious smirk and patted you on the shoulder, saying that you better go there alone.

When you finally got there and knocked on the door, you heard only Bucky’s voice, who told you to come in.

"James? What’s going on?" You asked as you came further into the room. It was empty except for Bucky, who came out of nowhere and locked the door. "What are you doing?"

He didn’t answer you; he just crossed the room, kissed you, and pushed your back into the metal lockers, just as he did it a few hours ago. He was greedy, passionate, and a little bit too rough, so you couldn’t keep the moan from escaping your mouth. Bucky’s hands squeezed your hips and then went higher under your jersey.

"Bucky…" You pulled away from the kiss, but he took advantage of it and started kissing your neck. Your eyes rolled back as you squeezed his shoulders and completely forgot everything you wanted to say. He sucked your soft skin into his mouth and even bit you. It was obvious that he desperately wanted to leave dark marks on your neck, but, honestly, you didn’t care. He smelled too good fresh out of the shower, with his bare chest and low-rise gray sweatpants, and his mouth… God, you knew what his mouth could do. "Baby, we can’t do it here."

"We can, and we will." He left your neck and looked at you, leaving only a few inches between your faces. "You can’t imagine how hard it was for me not to bend you over the closest surface when you showed me that fucking shirt. With my name on it? So everyone could see that you’re mine?" Bucky licked his already swollen lips. You pressed your thighs together, feeling how wet you were. He definitely felt that motion because his eyes became darker, and he looked like he was going to devour you at that same place.

"James…" You quietly whimpered, not being able to hold yourself anymore.

"Baby, fuck– doll, I love it when you call me that. You drive me insane." He decided not to lose any more time, so his hands went straight to the button of your jeans. He helped you get out of them, not losing a chance to touch your bare legs. "Now turn around, baby." You heard a deep moan, probably when he saw the back of the shirt again.

"Bucky, please." You whispered when you felt that more juices came out of you. You loved when your boyfriend became needy and possessive.

"Look at you, doll. You're already ready for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet." He said that when he put his hand over your pussy, he probably felt the heat and pulse. "I would’ve eaten you out, but I need you too fucking much, so I promise to do it when we get to my place."

"O-okay, just do something, please." You pushed your ass back and heard a loud, deep moan as soon as you touched Bucky’s hard cock through his pants. You put your hands behind your back to try to push down his clothes, and at the same time, Bucky removed your black thongs.

You felt his hard cock on the bare skin of your ass, the tip already leaking with pre-cum. Bucky squeezed your ass with his hands and moved his hips. His perfectly shaped cock grinded against your wet folds, and you couldn’t stop a whimper from escaping your throat.

"Please, don’t tease me–" You didn’t even finish the sentence when Bucky moved forward and buried himself deep inside of you. The mixture of pain and pleasure washed over you, and you didn’t even realize that you moaned too loudly. He was too perfect, filling you completely and stretching you around him in the most delicious way.

"Sh-h, sweetheart, you don’t want other people to hear you, right?" One of Bucky’s hands slipped under your shirt and laid on your stomach, and the other one covered your mouth, pulling you closer to his chest. "Good girl." He mumbled into your ear when you shook your head.

Bucky pulled away from you, still staying deep inside of your heat, letting you adjust to his size. He put one hand from your mouth on your back, which made you lean forward toward the lockers. The cold metal cooled your hot skin, but it still felt like you were burning inside.

Bucky finally started moving his hips, and the filling of his dick coming in and out of you made you almost faint. You two had sex a million times, but it still amazed you how full and satisfied he made you feel.

"That’s right, doll. You’re so greedy for my dick, huh?" He started to go faster, and you tried to move your body to his rhythm. "Was this your plan? Showing me that fucking jersey, so I could fuck you like a little slut you actually are?" His hand went over your back, tracing letters on your shirt with his fingers, and his motions became harder. In fact, it wasn’t your idea, but you should definitely thank Natasha because you really didn’t expect your boyfriend to become even more obsessed with you.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream, and you clenched around Bucky’s cock, making him moan. "I feel how you’re clenching ‘round me. I know that you like it when I call you my slut. Only mine." 

"Yes, Bucky– James, please." A sudden slap on your right cheek pulled another moan out of you, and Bucky just chuckled, knowing that you’re always loud with him.

"Please what, baby?"

"Let me cum, please– James! I’m so close." You felt too overwhelmed with pleasure, not even realizing that you started crying when his fingers moved to your clit, drawing little circles there.

"Fuck, one day I’m gonna make you Mrs. Barnes, so you will have a well-damn reason to wear this shirt." He deeply chuckled, moving harder and harder into you. More nasty sounds of skin slapping into skin and your not-so-quiet moan filled the room. "Can you imagine that, baby? Being my cute little wife, who likes when I fuck the shit out of her? Poor doll, crying. Can’t even handle my cock deep inside your pussy, can’t you?" He moved even deeper into you, and that was it.

"God– James!" You slammed your hands on the metal near your face, trying to find something to hold onto, as the wave of heat and extreme pleasure covered your whole body and mind. Your legs trembled, and the only thing that kept you straight was Bucky’s strong hands. He felt that you were over the edge, that you couldn’t stand on your legs, and he definitely felt more juices coming out of you. He looked down and saw how his shiny cock was coming in and out of your pussy that was particularly choking him, and that sight threw him over the edge. With the last movement, he pulled your body into him, wrapping his hands around you and releasing his hot seed deep inside of you.

You both moaned at the feeling of you being so full of his cum that it had already started dripping down your thighs.

"That’s it, baby." Bucky whispered into your ear. "You did so well. Are you okay?" He left light kisses on your cheek.

It was too intense; not a single thought came to your head, and for a few seconds you tried to put yourself together.

"Mhm." It was the only thing that you were able to answer because your body was still trembling with the leftovers of your intense orgasm.

You two stayed in that position for a few minutes until Bucky realized that you had become too sleepy. He tried to pull out, but you grabbed his hand.

"‘M too sensitive." You almost cried.

"I know, sweetheart, but now I have to clean you and take you home." Bucky gently came out of you, and your body got goosebumps at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you. It took him all the strength not to shove it back into you with his fingers, but you were obviously too tired, and he couldn’t properly take care of you since you weren’t at his or your bedroom.

Bucky fell on his knees, quickly took a towel from his bag on the floor, and carefully cleaned the mess between your thighs. He reached for your panties, helped you put them back, leaving a soft kiss on your leg, and then helped you sit on the bench.

He looked at your sleepy and tired face while putting on his clothes.

"Hey, doll? You’re too quiet. Is everything okay? Was I too rough?"

"I’m ‘kay, it was just as intense as when you make me come many times in one night. Just help me with my jeans; I can’t feel my legs."

"Of course, sweetheart." He helped you with your pants and then fixed your messy hair. You couldn’t imagine how you must’ve looked right now. "I love you so much. Thank you for being here today. You’re truly the best thing that ever happened to me." Bucky kissed your forehead and wrapped his hands around your body, standing up with you.

"I love you too, Buck. So so much." You happily buried your face into his neck, knowing that your boyfriend was going to take care of everything.

He picked up his bag and keys for the locker room and came out of there. Bucky didn’t even close the door when he heard a familiar voice.

"Do not tell me that you two did what I think you did!" Sam was standing there a few steps away with disgust and shock on his face. "I didn’t expect that from you, Y/N/N." He joked.

"Sorry, Sam." You moved away from Bucky’s neck and tried to give Sam your best apologetic smile.

"Well, I’m not. Since you’re here, close the door, Birdbrain; we hurry."

Sam stood there for a few more moments after Bucky left with you in his arms.

He decided that the headphones that he left in the room could wait until another time.

[i-am-a-secret-ssshhh]

Actual thoughts I've had recently (none of these happened out loud):

*About an angry customer* Who pissed in your pickles?

Holy hot peppers banana man (and then I proceeded to question who banana man was)

Wow, I forget I'm legally an adult.... I should make a will

I feel a headache coming on *older brother gets home from work just moments later* there it is

When I go to hell, I hope they have therapy

*at my mom* You need therapy

If I had limitless power that could do anything, I'd probably just never work again. But, I'd also probably take over the world and fix everything, soooo

All my problems could be solved by truck-kun

*About something out of my control* Ah shoot, it's all my fault

"Does it come in black?" (My brother then told me to stop quoting batman)

Monday is the day of bullshit

There's no such thing as BEFORE AFTERNOON on a Sunday when it comes to waking up

I would probably sleep through the end of the world if I was comfy enough

Wow... I may have made a mistake....

*Waking up in IMMENSE pain* That's, not supposed to be happening. *never brings it up to anybody else*

I wonder if I have enough dexterity to knit with sewing needles and thread

I have been lied to, there was no water in the fridge of the break room. There's no water in the break room at all.

How are you both extremely nice and also a super bitch?

*About my phone* You, you, were at 100% 10 minutes ago and now you're at 96%. And I never took you off the fucking charger!

I risked it all for a picture in a video game (in baldur's gate 3)

God I hope no one records me, my resting bitch face will always betray me. And also I'm very judgemental, but that's besides the point.

I could just, not, keep my opinion to myself though, wouldn't that be much easier for everyone

I can't believe I'm going to be surviving entirely off junk food for 3 days. What bullshit.

*About a fictional older man* He could solve all my problems. (my best friend: No he could not. Me: A bitch can dream!)

I am the family disappointment. What a shocker.

Do you ever shut up?

I'm lonely, not desperate.

I feel like you shouldn't be telling me these things.

Why are you mad at me? You asked me to ask questions if I was confused! I needed clarification! I might be dumb, but I'd rather do it right after being unsure, than wrong confidently.

Don't... don't make me cry over an inanimate object in an anime. Please don't. My heart can't take it.

Like clockwork, every three months, I need a new phone charger. It's almost become a schedule.

A bitch slap would solve, all your problems, my dude. All of them.

God I hate kids. (this is a thought that happens often)

Man. If only you would schedule me. Then I could tell you, I can work more than you think I can

*Has a job* I need another job, this... this ain't it.

Wow, it's almost as if, you underestimate my ability to be responsible. Wow. Are you my mother?

I asked your opinion because I want your opinion, so give me your opinion GODDAMMIT.

How dare you forget my birthday is two weeks after yours? And how dare you insinuate I wouldn't make a cake between now and mom's birthday. That's almost insulting.

I'm just over it at this point.

You sure do talk a lot, but you don't really say much.

[20dollarlolita]

My store has service technicians, trained by the companies that make the machines they work on. Our service department is very good. At any given time we have between 150 and 300 machines in the queue awaiting service, with that queue wait time being 3-6 weeks. However, people do make mistakes, and sometimes a machine will come back and the original problem will not be solved. Because of this, we have a warranty on all of our service.

There's a couple of limitations on that warranty, which means that when I'm talking to someone about warranty work, I have to screen for a couple of things. Mostly this is that the problem they want to put in for warranty work is a problem that they disclosed at the time of repair, and that this repair happened within a specific time window. If this is outside of the warranty time period or if the problem is a new problem that didn't exist when the machine left the technicians, then I can't put the machine in for a free re-work.

Customer calls and starts on a very long story about how she had the machine serviced and nothing has been right with it ever since. "Nothing's right with it" is a pretty vague problem and she can't narrow down the answer to explain what's going on. This is pretty uncommon since most people will be able to explain "when I start sewing, the thread breaks every time," or "it makes a screaming noise" or "the bobbin doesn't fit into the bobbin case anymore," or all kinds of other problems. However, since I no longer work at a store where we need to get customers addressed as quickly as possible. I can just sit on the phone and let her go on until she's ready to let me talk. I love letting people go on for way too long and then say, "I want to help you. What would you like me to do to help you in this situation?" because it helps me help them better and it's so much fun to put the responsibility on them. 10/10 recommend asking the customer what you want them to do to fix their problem after they've spent 10 minutes explaining how horrible everything is.

So we get through her disappointment with the company and the frustration that this has caused her, and she says that she hasn't been able to use it since it was serviced. So now, my turn.

"Okay, we do have a warranty on our service. We stand by the work we've done and we want you to be satisfied. If you're within that time frame, let's see if we can fix this."

At this point the customer interrupts to explain that she'll call whoever it takes to get her problem sorted out.

"I can help you here. When was your service performed."

And I really wasn't expecting her to say, "Well, about twenty years ago," like that was a totally reasonable and normal thing to say.

"...our warranty is 90 days."

"Well how on earth was I supposed to know that??"

To be fair, I don't know what our service paperwork looked like in 2003 because I was too busy being in primary school. Maybe that wasn't very clear or something.

[ragsy]

ACTUALLY, i got to thinking about how i forget that a LOT of people have a ton of anxiety over talking on the phone. maybe i can give a few pointers as someone who has been answering phones for their entire professional life.

(these are general rules-- different businesses have different phone answering policies, but these should all apply to places like doctor's offices, libraries, office buildings, small- to medium-sized customer service lines, etc.)

(people who are used to talking on the phone, this post is not for you. this is for people with phone anxiety.)

receptionists exist to connect you with who you need to talk to. if you don't know who that is, say "hi, my name is [x], my problem is [y]. can you help me?" or "hello, how do i [x]?" if the receptionist isn't trained in solving your exact problem, they should connect you with someone who can.

don't get upset about being placed on hold. sometimes they just need to physically walk across the room to grab a file, and the phone cord is not long enough.

don't start rattling off account numbers and detailed information until the person on the other end asks for them. they're more than likely working with some sort of extremely clunky database, and it can be several clicks just to get to the field they need to fill in with that information.

don't get upset about being asked to repeat yourself. that just means they're making sure they heard you correctly so the information they have is accurate.

sometimes the person on the other end of the line is just as terrified as you are. every business i've worked at trained employees on how to use the phones by saying "okay, answer that for me please" and giving no further explanation. it happens.

most customer service people are running on autopilot and if you say anything you think is awkward or embarrassing they'll most likely forget about it as soon as the call ends.

[fuck-customers]

Fuck customers who don’t care to follow the basic flow of a conversation and constantly talk over/interrupt you. You called ME for help. STOP trying lead the conversation when you’re a fucking moron who doesn’t even know what you’re talking about to begin with. All I need is a yes or no to the simple questions I’m asking you. All this extra information you’re giving me is completely irrelevant and now prolonging the time it takes to solve whatever problem you called in for to begin with. And for the love of god, stop interrupting me with a new question while I’m midway through answering your first one!

Also to note: I’m not talking about at the people who have phone anxiety, have trouble with certain social cues, or compulsively overshare/over explain. I 100% get that because I’m the same way. It’s these idiots in management or corporate america who have the urge to lead the conversation and tune out employees because they can’t be fucked to use the active listening skills they harp on us to have. It’s rude and the quickest way to get “accidentally” hung up on.

Posted by admin Rodney.

[honeybadger-has-a-grimoire]

Pokémon Grounding Ritual

Hey, everyone! It’s Clover, and, as per the results of the poll, the next blog topic is my Pokémon Grounding Technique! And I have to say, this is a good thing to write about now, specifically, since a lot of stuff went down IRL—and I’ll definitely need to ground and recenter myself soon.

So grab your bag, your favorite Pokémon, and your Pokédex as we talk about how I use one of my favorite media franchises in my practice!

Psychology and Witchcraft: A Quick Background Discussion

Okay, so before we go on our journey to be the very best like no one ever was, a quick discussion on how I use psychology in my practice is necessary for background knowledge.

In my witchcraft practice, I use the idea that spell work and ritual can help you calm down and focus on a problem at hand. In doing things with your hands and with the set intention of helping you out with X,Y, or Z, you are creating a space in your brain to look at the problem from a new perspective. This new perspective then helps you solve the problem since not only is your headspace calm, but, also, doing the spell diverts your consciousness from the problem at hand—which then allows your unconscious mind to work through it a bit better and help find a solution through processing all the information you have gathered.

I mainly use this approach to witchcraft through grounding techniques, like making Tea or playing Pokémon. The ability to use my hands and distract my brain helps a lot to calm me down and look at problems or situations through a new perspective—mainly a calm one.

Pokémon specifically comes in handy when I’m overstimulated, exhausted, and miserable. I work two jobs, and one of them has various different types of lights of various levels of brightness and warmth. This lack of uniformity causes a migraine due to photosensitivity and it only gets compounded by the store being wall-to-wall with customers on Sundays. So I start feeling overwhelmed and jittery and not okay. I need to escape and to ground all the excess energy.

So… I hid in the girl’s bathroom, turned on my emulator, lowered the brightness and played GBA rom hacks and fan games of Pokémon.

And that’s where my little ritual began.

Now, let’s actually talk Pokémon ritualistic grounding.

Pokémon Grounding Ritual

The actual ritual itself is very simple and adaptable to your specific needs. Remember, what works for me may not work for you and what works for you may not work for Tyson down the street and what works for Tyson may not work for his partner. In witchcraft, Pop Culture Witchcraft especially, a lot of it requires researching (cultural/historical contexts, open versus closed practices, other people’s paths, etc.) and then trial and error.

For me, the Pokémon Grounding Ritual works as such:

I hide in the bathroom, my room, or another solitary place. Double points if it’s dark and quiet.

I boot up my Delta Emulator app on my phone.

I let my intuition guide me on picking out a Pokémon game to continue playing—and this is the most important step because I am usually too overwhelmed to think. So, by going on autopilot, I am allowing myself to slowly start coming down from overstimulation or anxiety.

I play and allow myself to focus on the game for about five or ten minutes (more depending on how overwhelmed I feel and where I am). And I let my inner self decide when it’s ready to rejoin the world—which is usually after a battle or two.

Repeat when necessary.

Allowing my excess energy to have a focus is why this really works. I am taking all this pent up, uncomfortable energy and putting it into action physically by moving my hands and letting the calming surroundings of my favorite video game franchise bring me back to myself. When I’m home, if I’ve had an overwhelming day, I usually do this by working on my Arthurian Grimoire project you’ve seen me post on my main blog or make tea. But I can’t exactly pull out my craft kit or my teapot whenever I’m out and overwhelmed.

Psychological-Techno magick is great for on the go because I always have my phone on me in case of emergency. So I will always have Pokémon with me.

What about you guys? Do you have a similar ritual? If not, what’s your go to grounding? Tell me, I would like to know!

That’s it for today, folks!

[transgenderer]

i understand why businesses do this, customer service lines with actual people require a huge amount of labor-hours, its necessarily expensive, frustratingly little gains from automation. but also, making your customers even more mad at you every time they have a problem they need a person to solve seems really bad, and no one has yet found a system other than talking to a person that is good at solving customer service calls. AI ofc getting really big in this space but if anything this is worse than the classic phone menu, which is terrible

[mortalityplays]

Science HAS gotta figure out whatever the hell has cursed you to have so many different people come in with a response of "well why don't YOU solve all my problems for me then" from emotionally barren bad faith perspectives every time you say anything so it can be weaponized and thrown at people who are annoying instead, my god

I put out some kind of pheromone I think, this happens to me irl too.

Back when I worked retail it was so common for people to wander in off the street and beeline straight for me to have meltdowns (flipping out that a game store didn't sell VHS tapes in the mid 00s; detailing a history of childhood physical abuse unprompted; telling me how they know every bus driver in the city and yet their petition to change the bus route wasn't being taken seriously; etc.) that my manager - who mind you was compeltely accustomed to the background radiation of unhinged customers that comes with a retail job - permanently moved me to the second floor in an attempt to discourage whatever the hell kept happening.

Instead customers started going insane on the second floor (telling me about their 'world famous' lightsaber collection and becoming furious when I refused to walk off my shift and go see it; asking for a DS game that did not exist and had never existed and then insisting that I inspect every jewel case in the store in front of them to prove we didn't have it; triangulating my place of work based on two posts I made on two different (american) online forums that respectively mentioned the city I lived in and the fact my unnamed workplace held a launch event for a specific game, and showing up in person to ask for me by my username). I'm aware that retail is just like that to an extent, but you need to understand this was every day and it was so pronounced that my colleagues were like hey why does this always happen to you, personally, specifically.

Not long before the pandemic I went to visit my sibling, and the two of us were hanging out behind an outdoor beer garden, next to the big street bins, talking while we waited to go meet someone. A council worker who had been emptying the bins turned around, walked right up to us, and with zero preamble started telling us about his career as a rat catcher, pointing out his scars and the fingers he lost to infected rat bites, and then showing us all the pictures he'd taken on his (insanely outdated) flip phone of ghosts he saw in the sewer tunnels.

Like I wish I could say this was a tumblr thing but it's genetic or something. People just see me and a synapse snaps and they start speaking in tongues.

[ellie-24]

Special Request

Based on the awesome prompt by @vintageshanny : How are we going to solve this problem?

Tagging the coolest people I know: @be-my-ally @thatbanditqueen @whositmcwhatsit @missmaywemeetagain @from-memphis-with-love

Summary: Working as a hostess means meeting the most interesting people. Maybe even a certain Elvis Presley.

Warnings: 18+, smut, MDNI

Word count: ~ 3.1 k

Columbus, Ohio. June 25th 1974

"What were you doing with all those pillows earlier?" Debbie asked while holding up a small mirror, inspecting her eyebrows.

Anne sighed and lightly massaged her temples. "That one guest in 368... I don't know what's wrong with that guy. Today he asked if he could have 20 additional pillows."

"Didn't one guest request like 20 additional towels the other day?" Debbie asked, lowering the mirror.

Anne threw her hands up in frustration. "That's the same guy! No idea what he does with that. Frankly, I don't really care but still. What the hell?"

"I'm not even sure we want to know."

She pursed her lips. "That's probably true. Though-" Anne smiled, conspiratorially. "-I really wouldn't mind him asking for something crazy. To be honest I'm surprised there hasn't been some out of this world request from him. Like-" she gestured around, thinking. "-flying in his pet snake, or monkey, or whatever pets these celebrities own."

Debbie paused and turned towards her. "Like that one lunatic a few months ago with the pet spiders?"

Anne gave her a look. "Don't remind me. It drives me insane that one went missing. It's still crawling around somewhere." She shuddered at the thought.

Debbie laughed and nodded in response. After a few seconds she continued. "...It's still so crazy. Like the Elvis Presley is here. In the same building as we are right now. At our workplace."

"I know, it's so exiting!"

"I still think he was totally flirting with you earlier."

"He's Elvis Presley, I think he flirts with every woman on the planet."

"You really got to talk to him. And he winked at you I saw it!" Debbie swooned.

"He probably had something in his eye! And he didn't really say much. Asked if I could turn the AC on. Said he preferred his room to be nearly freezing." she shrugged.

"Celebrities."

"I know, right?"

In that moment the phone rang at the reception and Anne quickly rushed over, putting on her over the top friendly voice and customer face. She nodded and smiled along, despite the person on the other end not seeing it. After hanging up she let out a little squeal and faced her coworker.

"Debbie! He needs his minibar stocked up. Apparently all the pepsi is already gone."

"Who needs a pepsi at 3 in the morning?"

"Ce-le-bri-ties." Anne retorted with a smile, emphasising each syllable. "It doesn't matter, I get to go up there again! Uh, quick! Give me your lipstick!"

"Anne, what do you have planned?" Debbie laughed and tossed over the lipstick.

"Nothing." Anne quipped before dabbing some of it onto her lips and puckered them, butterflies in her stomach. "Good?"

Debbie snorted. "Oh my god, if you really wanna do this-" She walked over to her and undid the top two buttons of her blouse. "-do it right."

"Oh my god." Anne gasped, both at the implication and the feeling of the cool air hitting her now heated skin. She then laughed mirthfully and made no attempt to cover herself up again. "You're a bad influence." she remarked while grabbing a cart and carefully arranging the beverages on it.

"You started it! I'm just helping out a friend in desperate need." Debbie retorted with an innocent smile.

"Desperate my ass!" Anne laughed as she made her way over to the elevator. The last thing she heard before the door closed was Debbie calling over to her. "Have fun!"

Anne stood in front of his door, shifting from one foot to the other. She took a deep breath, trying to contain her giddy exitement and raised a trembling hand to knock lightly. She heard shuffling behind the door before it swiftly opened. Elvis stood in the door, squinting his eyes for a second. His large frame immediately towered over her and she had to clear her throat before daring to really look up. He looked just as good as he did earlier that day, her own mind hadn't exaggerated, every little detail still perfectly in place. His hair looked a bit more unruly and he didn't wear his glasses, making his beautiful blue eyes stand out even more against the dark brows and long lashes.

"Good evening, Mr. Presley." she smiled.

"Hey there, honey. I thought I told ya earlier to call me Elvis." he said with a stern look.

"Right. Elvis." she smiled, a bit bashful.

He gestured behind him and ran a hand through his fluffy hair. "Come in."

She entered the room, her eyes needing a moment to adjust to the darkness in his room as opposed to the bright flourescent light in the corridor. "You find everything alright?" she tried to make light conversation while opening the fridge, stacking the cool drinks inside. He snatched one right from her cart and cracked it open.

"Yeah, perfect thank you." His eyes skimmed over her nametag, like earlier that day. "Annie."

She beamed at him, trying to think of an excuse to stay in his room just a little while longer but the longer she stared, the more awkward it felt. She walked over to her cart again, his gaze folllwing her unabashedly. "Well, I don't want to disturb you any further-"

"Just one more thing, honey." he interrupted and held up his hand.

She halted, a little surprised. "What is it? I'm sure I can help you."

"Ya sure can." His eyes briefly wandered over her form before he cleared his throat. "The thing is, I-I can't sleep... and I'm bored outta my mind, honey. So... how are we going to solve this problem?" he asked as he sat down on the black leather couch with a grunt, lighting a cigar.

Anne felt her heart skipping a beat, her mind inadvertently jumping to places she couldn't think about now. She'd just get her hopes up for nothing. "I can arrange it that maybe some books will be brought up to you. If you'd like that?" She tried to offer, her nerves threatening to get the best out of her.

He shook his head and puffed his cigar, the heavy smoke surrounding him. She was barely able to make out his expression. "I wouldn't have called ya if I was in the mood to read."

Anne narrowed her eyes at him. "You called me to bring you some pepsi."

He mirrored her actions and pointed his finger at her. "Don't get sassy with me now, honey. Doesn't suit ya."

She swallowed hard, the tension in the room making her heart flutter wildly. "Alright. Then... what are you in the mood for?" she asked with an unassuming expression, trying to seem as indifferent as possible.

He shifted in his seat and smirked up at her. "Put on a lil show for me, will ya honey?"

Anne felt the color draining from her face, a pleasant shiver running through her body. Her face betrayed nothing, a perfectly polite smile gracing her lips. "A... little show?"

"Yeah, I'd like that... Relax baby, I'll tell you what to do." he said with a lopsided grin while adjusting his belt.

Anne slowly walked over to him and he spread his legs so she could step between them. Only the clicking sounds of her heels filled the silence in the room, except for the distinct whirring of the AC running on full power. Her breath hitched when his big hands came up to rest on her hips, his cigar dangling from his lips.

"Just a show? Nothing more?" she asked in what she hoped was a teasing tone, her eyebrows raised.

He ran his fingers over her thighs, toying with the hem of her knee length skirt. "We got plenty of time, Annie. But for now-" his gaze drifted towards her exposed cleavage and he grinned up at her. "I want ya to unbutton the rest."

"Oh, I don't know. It's rather cold in here don't you think?" she snickered and tilted her head.

He slapped her butt and she yelped, feeling a bit lightheaded all of the sudden. "I'm sure you'll be warm enough in a few minutes."

"I hope you keep your word."

"I always do." he said with a pout and gave her butt another squeeze before releasing her. She giggled as she moved a few steps back and began to open her blouse, a slight tremble to her fingers that she couldn't hide, no matter how hard she tried. Anne looked down, her bra starting to show and she suddenly wished she had chosen a more appealing set of underwear this morning, the simple white cotton bra and panties not really fitting her definition of sexy. But who could have known she would undress in front of Elvis Presley? She quickly found that she couldn't bring herself to care that much about trivialities like these under his assessive, almost examining gaze.

He lightly shook his head when he saw her fingers hastily working on the buttons. "Slower, honey, take your time. Do it nice and slow." he gently chided and leaned forward with his lips puckered, his belt now digging beautifully into his stomach. Anne tried to follow his command, urging her fingers to go more slowly, but she had no idea if she suceeded, her breathing becoming quicker and quicker.

Yet it seemed like she did what he asked. "That's right, little one. Just like that." he uttered, contentedly continuing to smoke his cigar. She had to supress a proud smile at his praise and continued to undress in what almost felt like slow motion. The dimmed light in the room gave her enough confidence to carry on, blemishes and imperfections remaining unseen in the darkness.

Anne finally pulled off the blouse after what felt like hours and dropped it to the floor unceremoniously, making him chuckle. His eyes raked over her upper body and he nodded to himself, taking a sip of his pepsi.

"Ah, did I say ya can take off the skirt?"

"You didn't." She mumbled and waited, his unwavering gaze. His eyes flicked downwards, her hand still clutching the fabric, prepared to pull the garment off. He raised his eyebrows at her and she got the hint. She let go and held up her hands to him as if surrendering.

He nodded, satisfied and leaned back again with a smirk. "Take off the skirt, honey."

She huffed. "You're-"

"Watch your mouth, baby. You just do what I tell you and look pretty." he commented, raising a lighter to his lit cigar again after it had gone out.

She bit back a snide comment and slowly opened the zipper at the side of her skirt. Whether or not she wanted to admit it to herself, his commanding tone made her skin tingle in exitement. It was then, when she pushed the fabric down her thighs, that she started to feel a little silly, never having done something like this before. She leaned forward until the skirt pooled at her feet and he licked and bit at his bottom lip at her accidental generous display of her bust.

She stepped out of her skirt, kicking off her heels in the process without his permission. He momentarily frowned and she saw the gears in his head turning at her little act of defiance, but judging by the way he shifted in his seat and his mouth formed a little "o" he seemed to like what he saw.

"Lordy, look at those cute, yittle sooties." he groaned, swiftly placing his cigar into the ash tray next to him and moving to palm the prominent bulge in his trousers. He made a circling motion with his fingers, urging her to turn around for him, all while still stroking the growing bulge in his crotch. She felt like an actress in a theatre or movie production with the director showing her where to stand and what to do, using her as a tool to realise his artistic vision. Not that she was complaining.

"Now unclasp the bra, baby. But leave the panties on." he uttered, his voice a bit hoarse. "Slowly." he added with a chuckle, drawing the word out as if further asserting his point. Anne threw a glance over her shoulder and turned away from him again quickly when she unhooked her bra and let it fall onto the ground. 'She was practically naked in front of Elvis Presley!' she thought with her cheeks flushed, thankful that he couldn't see the look on her face, which surely resembled an enthusiatic, screaming fan at one of his concerts. She felt his eyes burning into her back, her throat completely dry.

"N-now baby, turn around and show me your titties, I need to see them." he almost whimpered and she quickly regained control over her face, his keenness making her feel weirdly powerful. Anne turned around, attempting to lick her dry lips, but she quickly realised she had no spit left when she faced him, eyes dazed and bucking up into his palm every now and then.

His eyes immediately went to her heaving chest, nipples pebbled from the cool room temperature, his teeth grinding, practically itching to bite down on them. "Fuck, why don'tcha play with yourself a lil bit?" His voice now had an almost comic high pitch to it and it made her feel weirdly powerful. She confidently reached up and gently massaged her breast, her thumb flicking over her nipple, making both of them gasp. He wriggled around, it almost looked like he wanted to jump up, but instead he remained firmly seated and threw his head back. His hand flexed, holding onto the soft pillow beside him, fingers digging into it as if he was caressing her supple flesh.

"Sit down o-on that chair a-and spread those legs for me, baby. And slip a finger inside. Rub yourself real nice f-for me." he stuttered, gesturing around wildly. Anne quickly scurried over and sat down, eagerly reaching down, her hand ghosting over her clothed cunt. She slid underneath the white cotton and eagerly flicked her fingers over her swollen nub, her hips bucking up involuntarily and her face scrunching up. He let out a deep moan and fumbled around with his pants, fervently attempting to pull them down. After a series of frustrating noises escaping his puffy lips, his cock finally sprang from it's confinement, slapping against his rounded stomach. Now it was her turn to whimper, watching him roll back his foreskin and thumbing the the tip of it.

"Show me your fingers, h-honey." he urged, his neediness almost making her swoon. She reluctantly pulled away and held up her glistening fingers to him, making him curse wildly under his breath. He softly whined and furrowed his brows in concentration, looking as if he was trying to solve a difficult math equation. "...Fuck it. Take off the panties. Wanna watch that yittle pussy." he finally muttered, decisively closing his fist around his pulsating cock.

She shimmied out of her soaked underwear and opened up her legs for him again. His cock visibly twitched when he looked at her glistening folds and he lazily ran his hand up and down his length. "Elvis, can I? Please I need-" she gasped, her fingers inching closer to her core again, his heated gaze making her even more desperate. He stroked his cock in a steady rhythm as he watched her squirm and writhe in her seat. "Please." she cried out in frustration and he finally showed mercy.

"Go ahead and touch yourself, Annie."

She sighed in relief and slipped her fingers back over her wet folds, rubbing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, the throbbing becoming almost too much to bear. "Look at me and bite your lip, baby." he instructed, his ring clad hand pumping his cock faster, precum already leaking out of the tip. She lowered her head a bit and looked up to him through her lashes, biting her lip almost painfully in anticipation and exitement. He sucked in a breath and bucked up into his hand. "Goddamn honey, y-you're such a fuckin' tease."

Anne let out a groan and rubbed her clit even faster, trying to match his own pace, which got increasingly difficult as his tempo became more and more irregular. "You've never done this before, Annie? This is just for me." The latter half of his statement sounded less like a question to Anne, but more like a definitive fact, which one couldn't possibly argue. She had no intention of arguing with him anyway, just nodding and moaning along with everything he said. "You're getting off on this ain't ya lil' girl? Dirty, dirty, getting that turned by me watching." He teased and again she found herself nodding without really giving her body the permission to do so. Her mind was focused on him, watching his leaking cock twitch under his ministrations, hearing his moans and grunts. She even imagined his nimble fingers stroking her, instead of her own, the thought sending her over the edge.

She cried out his name when she came, repeating it like a mantra while remembering to look into his eyes. His own hips stuttered as he watched her twitch and jerk, her fingers still gliding all over, in and out her puffy pussy, face twisting up in pleasure and his name falling from her lips like a prayer. With one last thrust into his hand and a heavy groan he felt his hot cum coating him. He leaned his head back, trying to catch his breath. After a brief chuckle he raised his head again and looked over, seeing her still sitting on the chair in the same position, looking tired and dazed.

"Come over here, little one." he muttered after a few seconds and patted his strong thigh. Anne hesitantly got up on wobbly legs and stumbled over towards him, almost falling onto his lap, probably staining his pants even more. He didn't seem to care, pulling her close to him and kissing her forehead.

"Annie, Annie, I knew you were something special the first time I saw you." he mumbled into her hair and ran his fingers along her back. She just hummed in response, not able to form coherent sentences yet, just content burying herself into his wide chest. "I'll certainly have to come back here, honey. The service here is outta this world." he chuckled and slapped her butt again. "I'll make sure ya get a pay raise."

She hummed.

[duhragonball]

Neon Genesis Evangelion 03

You know, I hate to say it, but this show's been pretty friggin' boring so far. I mean, the animation's excellent, and the character designs are really top-notch, but there's these long stretches where nothing actually happens. The dull parts are probably intended to make the robot battles more exciting, but Shinji kind of sucks at fighting, and this whole show seems designed to make me feel guilty about his predicament, so it's hard to enjoy the action, you know?

This one opens with Shinji doing some target practice with his Eva. Ritsuko talks him through the drills, reviewing the technical details of the unit. For example, that cable coming out of its back is a power line, because their battery technology sucks in this world. If the cable gets cut, the Eva has 5 minutes of battery life before it shuts down.

Shinji just sort of exists through these drills like he's in a trance. Ritsuko observes that he seems to go through life just doing whatever he's told.

Misato got him a cell phone when he moved in with her, and she expected him to use it a lot when he started at his new school here in Tokyo-3, but she hasn't heard it ring even once, and she suspects that he has no friends.

The two women consider the Hedgehog's dilemma: the notion that hedgehogs have trouble socializing with one another, because the closer they get the more likely that they'll hurt each other with their quills. Pretty sure that's not actually how hedgehogs work, and I'm pretty sure that's not Shinji's problem.

So far, all I really know about Shinji is that he doesn't particularly like himself very much, and he's adapted to his life in such a way where he just passively accepts everything that happens to him. I'm pretty sure this has a lot to do with the way his dad just sort of glares at him instead of interacting with him like a normal human parent.

I suppose, in theory, Shinji could find some common ground with Rei Ayanami, the other Eva pilot, but he just stares at her while she stares out the window. This is what I mean when I say this show is getting boring. Everyone just sort of keeps restating the premise. The world's in danger from these Angels, the Evas are the only thing that can stop them, and Rei and Shinji are the only ones who can pilot the Evas, so they're desperately needed, but they're also completely distant and isolated from the rest of society. This seems like a really major problem that someone should try to solve, but we're on Episode 3 and everyone just keeps staring at this mess waiting for it to clean itself up.

Let's talk about Shinji's school, because apparently that's incredibly fascinating. Yes, I sure am interested in school. Just the other day I was thinking to myself that there aren't enough animes about schools. They should make... a thousand of them, all set in schools, and everyone could wear the same clothes, even the ones that take place in the future, when you'd expect them to have come up with new social customs. Argh, fuck this.

After the battle in episodes 1 and 2, a lot of people just moved out of Tokyo-3, so it looks like the classes are nearly deserted, except there's a packed house once the classes actually begin. The teacher just happens to give a lesson on the backstory of this world. In 1999 a meteor hit Antarctica, setting off disasters and climate changes that wiped out half the human population. He doesn't get into the Angels, although if I understand correctly, the last one showed up 15 years prior to the start of this show, and the second one showed up in Episode 1. So maybe there's not much to tell.

Anyway, Shinji gets a text message on his laptop asking him to respond to rumors about him being the Eva pilot who saved the city three weeks ago. He says he is the pilot, and the whole class starts asking him questions, ignoring the teacher completely. Everyone thinks Shinji is pretty cool, even though he can't actually tell them anything about his pilot work, and he just sort of murmurs all of his dialogue like a drugged kitten.

Well, one kid doesn't like Shinji, because his sister was crushed by falling debris during the attack, and she's been hospitalized ever since. He blames the Eva pilot for fighting the Angel inside the city, and now that he knows it's Shinji, he punches the shit out of him. Shinji mutters that he didn't pilot the Eva by choice, so the kid punches him again.

Then Rei stands over him like the spectre of death and informs him that they got an emergency call. She says she's going to report for duty, but this is the last time we see her this whole episode. I'm pretty sure Rei does something in this show, but I don't understand why it's taking this long to get to that.

It's another angel and... wow. This is a serious downgrade from the last one. NERV mobilizes the Eva, which seems kind of obvious since that's literally the only thing that works. Apparently this is the fourth Angel, so the third must have been the one from Episode 1 three weeks ago, and the second must have been the one they talked about from 2000.

Misato remarks that NERV's commander, Gendo Ikari, is away, but what difference does it make? All he did the last time was stare at the monitor and smirk occasionally. I think they can manage without him.

Shinji wonders why he's still doing this when his dad's not around to see it. I get that characters don't always understand their own motivations. They're not always honest with themselves, or they act impulsively, or whatever. But I feel like if you put on a leotard to sit in the cockpit of a robot about to do battle against a giant monster, you ought to have some vague idea of why you're doing it.

Anyway, Tokyo-3 goes into battle-station mode, and Shinji engages the Angel, and... immediately goes to pieces. The Angel kicks his ass and severs his power cable, so now he's only got five minutes left before the Eva shuts off completely.

Shinji continues to take a beating, and eventually falls near his two classmates, who snuck out of the bomb shelter to see the battle. The one of the left is fascinated by this Angel/NERV conflict, and the one of the right is the kid who beat Shinji up earlier. Seeing them makes Shinji freeze up, which is impressive because I thought he was already freezing up earlier in the battle. What, is he double-freezed up now? How much does this Angel suck that it still hasn't managed to kill him?

I guess he sort of pulls it together long enough to keep the monster busy while Misato orders the hatch open so the other kids can get inside the robot with him for safety. Ritsuko objects to this, but Misato seems to be in charge, so she gets her way.

Apparently just having passengers on board the Eva can screw up its delicate interaction with the pilot, so this further disrupts Shinji's ability to defend himself. I thought he was already incapacitated from his initial fear, and then again from worrying about his classmates, and now this. Next some guy is gonna show up and stab Shinji in the throat just to make this extra difficult.

But then Shinji goes berserk just like he did in Episode 2, and he manages to kill the Angel before his battery runs out of power. So it all works out.

Three days later... Rei's still staring out that window. Thanks for coming out tonight, Rei.

Shinji hasn't been back to class since the battle, and the kid who beat him up before feels bad about it, now that he understands what Shinji's job is really like. His pal gives him Shinji's phone number to call him and apologize.

And he goes to a phone, but I'm pretty sure he chickens out for some reason. Or maybe Shinji doesn't answer. Whatever.

And that's it. Wow, that sucked. Business will probably pick up later, but I hope it doesn't take too long, because this really isn't doing it for me.

Misato does the next-episode preview segments and she promises "lots of fan service" in Episode 4. Yeesh.

[babblable]

So, I'm not deaf(?), but I just bought some hearing amplifiers because I'm poor and tired and figured I needed *something* to tide me over until I talk to my doctor on the 5 of August. Why did I do this? Well, over the years of my life I have suffered a lot of trauma, from my mother screaming at me for "ignoring" her and asking "what?" too much- to teachers doing the same thing for the same reason, all the way up til now, as an adult in a safe environment with unfortunately declining health in various ways due to childhood neglect, still asking those questions but getting affirmed with a repeated answer or a gentle "did you hear me?" Followed by a repeated answer if I responded to that with "no"! But!!! Because I've been able to hear 75% of things- level and quality of hearing those things having constantly been claimed unimportant by the adults throughout my childhood- I've just come to believe that my hearing is Fine and I'm just "being difficult".

Apparently, that was wrong and I only found this out because I work at a call center now and before a couple days ago, we shared desks.

And my deskmate? A small little elderly lady with no problems with her hearing.

I noticed one day that she always had the volume turned to half on the phone. Meanwhile, me, believing that my hearing Totally and Completely Fine, had to turn the phone volume to MAX and I STILL struggled to hear the customers who'd call in.

After a week of this, I decided "fuck it" and bought a pair of hearing amps on a whim.

Y'all when I say I was blown away by the fact that the world is so much more noisy, I wasn't joking.

I thought that there was Silence outside when I'd pick up delivery orders, outside of the occasional car passing by of course.

But no. No no. My best friend, @chuubifrog, had to tell me that Silence Does Not Exist when I asked him about it and that the humming I was hearing now when going outside is a mixture of the wind, the cars from the highway which is more than 500ft from our house, the entire neighborhoods A/C units, a wind chime from a neighbor down the street and a cricket somewhere nearby.

"W. what the fuck do you MEAN there is no Silence???"

"I'm honestly surprised you've experienced Silence at all. This is what the world sounds like."

"no fucking wonder everyone's always so angry."

I ALSO LEARNED that SODA fizz makes a noise! That I was always thought of as being aggressive or giving an attitude because it sounded like I was slamming things when really, I THOUGHT I was being GENTLE based off the noise of what I was "slamming".

I learned that the dog we have isn't just annoying to hear scrambling throughout the house bc of his nails, but downright painful to hear. I learned that the vents at work are so loud I can't hear myself think very well and I'm m surprised that we all manage to speak over it.

I learned that the reason my mother and other people I live with tell me to turn things down so often is because I couldn't hear it unless it was loud, and that it was REALLY disruptive to everyone else!

I learned that my phone is fine, actually! It's NOT busted because I had to talk to people on speaker and have it close to ears to hear it on max volume! I just couldn't hear in general.

And so, I realize now that so many issues I had growing up would have been so easily solved if the adults around me had bothered to listen when I said "I can sort of hear it...(But not very well)" or "I can't hear it.." instead of playing the noise again and making me "focus" on it really hard, often times resulting in their increased anger when the answer remained the same, I chose to lie to please them or they gave up, claimed I was being difficult and marked me as having perfect hearing.

I walk a line, apparently. And that line is "not enough to be marked as disabled, but too disabled have good quality of life without aid". It isn't the phrasing I wanted, but it's what my brain could put together.

And I am now conflicted between the euphoria of being able to hear all the things that I couldn't hear before, being overloaded sensory-wise and sadness as I sit here wondering why it took 26 years of abuse, neglect, a safer environment, an elderly coworker sharing my desk and a really cheap set of knock off hearing aids for me to realize that I'm hard of hearing.

I'm choosing to see the bright side, but I'm also going to ask my doctor about it on the 5th.

For anyone else who may think they might be HOH because of similar reasons, try out a cheap set of hearing amplifiers from Walmart or something. If you can hear the wind or the soda fizz with them on after years of Silence, then you should ask your doctor about the subject.

[matchristiandy]

"With technology playing such a big role in today’s business world, what tech-related skills do you think are the most important for aspiring entrepreneurs to succeed?" I approached a fellow student, a tech-savvy girl who radiated quiet confidence. When I asked her about the role of technology in entrepreneurship, she took a moment to reflect. It was clear she had thought deeply about this topic before.

"Honestly," she began, "the most important skill is knowing how to leverage technology to scale your business. It's not enough to just have a great idea anymore. You need to understand the tools and platforms that can amplify that idea." She talked about how technology drives everything now — from digital marketing to data analytics, even automation. "You have to be comfortable with tech, and not just the basics. I’m talking about using social media strategically, analyzing customer data, and automating repetitive processes."

I nodded in agreement, but then she said something that really made me sit up. "You know, entrepreneurs today should also be thinking about how technology can solve real-world problems, not just make businesses more efficient." That’s when she gave me an idea that completely shifted my mindset.

"What if there was a way to create an automatic earthquake detector for our campus buildings? Something that could detect tremors and instantly trigger an alarm without anyone having to manually push a button?" Her eyes lit up as she explained further. "Think about it — a system that could send alerts through the building's intercom, text notifications to everyone’s phones, and automatically alert emergency services, all without human intervention."

It was a brilliant concept — and it immediately got my gears turning. I could see the potential for something like this, especially in earthquake-prone regions. It wasn’t just about making businesses more profitable; this was about saving lives with technology. "An automatic earthquake detector," I repeated, imagining the possibilities.

Her idea opened my eyes to the broader role technology can play, not just in entrepreneurship, but in society. Entrepreneurs who can harness technology to address real-world challenges, like safety and disaster preparedness, have the potential to make a lasting impact.

She continued by stressing how important adaptability is in tech-driven industries. "The skills you learn today could be outdated in a few years, so you have to be a lifelong learner. And don’t be afraid of failure — it’s part of the process when you’re innovating with new technology."

We talked about specific technologies that are shaping the entrepreneurial landscape, like data analytics and cloud computing. But the real takeaway from our conversation was the power of combining technical skills with creative thinking. Her idea for an earthquake detector wasn’t just a reminder of how crucial technology is — it showed me how entrepreneurs can use tech to create real, meaningful change.

As I walked away from the conversation, my mind was racing with possibilities. It was clear that technology is no longer just an accessory to entrepreneurship — it's a driving force. And entrepreneurs, like this student, who can combine technical know-how with visionary thinking, are the ones who will truly make a difference in the future.