#book plumber online

[labour-milega1]

Labour Milega: Where Customer Satisfaction Builds Excellence

Customer satisfaction is at the core of Labour Milega's values. They measure their success not only by the quality of the homes they build but also by the smiles on their customers' faces. Their dedication to excellence has earned them a reputation as one of the top house construction companies in the industry.

In summary, when you choose Labour Milega as your home construction service provider, you're choosing a company that combines expertise, craftsmanship, and a commitment to your vision. With their help, your dream home will become a reality, built to the highest standards of quality and tailored to your unique needs. Labour Milega is more than a construction company; they are your partner in creating the home of your dreams.

[gracieheartspedro]

Your Needs, My Needs

THE PRELUDE

a masterlist of how you can help gaza

pairing: cowboy!joel x f!reader (no outbreak)

description: you have made it to your new home in taylor, texas. your anxiety of owning your our home and being alone is coming to a head, but you need to be productive. a trip to the local furniture turns into you meeting some locals and your new cowboy neighbor.

word count: 3.7k words

warnings: there is no smut in this part. still MINORS DNI! no use of y/n! vague talk of reader's old life before texas, no real description of the reader, description of small age gap, joel being a sarcastic shithead. sarah is canon, so joel is a dad. distracted driving. talks of consuming food. reader has mental illness, mainly described as anxiety, but could be other illnesses. I make it pretty vague. the reader likes football? lmfao

author's note: this is the prelude to the many parts I have planned for these two. this is sort of just setting up everything. I want a slow burn for these two, so hopefully these first couple parts make you guys sweat with anticipation. I also wanna quickly thank all of you for the love on the preview of this fic. I hope you all enjoy it! let me know what y'all think. YEEHAW!

“Sign here and she’s all yours.”

When you brought the pen to the dotted line, you knew that this was going to be the start of your new life. 

While you were nervous about taking on such a huge project, you were ready to find solace in your alone time and work on yourself along with the beautiful farmhouse. You needed some peace and quiet, anyway. 

She was set on 20 acres of land on the outskirts of a small town called Taylor. The land looked like something out of a movie, it’s rolling hills and sprawling fields. 

The house was about 130 years old and needed a lot of TLC. You found it online after hours of scrolling. It was still liveable, but the older couple who owned it before moved to a retirement community and could not keep up with the maintenance. When the inheritance hit your bank account, you called the local realtor and told them you would be flying out there to check it out. When the car pulled up the long driveway, you knew that it would be yours. 

Texas was a new start for you. And boy, were you ready for it. 

You did not have a lot to move in, just a small UHaul full of boxes of clothes and miscellaneous trinkets. You left your furniture in your shared apartment in New York. You needed to find something that was more your style, anyway. 

You moved everything yourself. You were not sure you were ready to trust anyone to help you move in. You knew no one locally, anyway.

It took about three days to get settled, and by that, you simply put up a shower curtain and finally put sheets on your mattress on the floor. You had also created a laundry list of random things you wanted to get done around the house in the next month. Priority number one was getting the bathrooms working. The toilet downstairs doesn’t stop running and your upstairs one won’t flush at all. 

You decided that today was the day you would go out and buy some furniture for your living room and bedroom. You would also inquire to some locals about a plumber. It would take you days to work up the courage to reach out to someone in the phone book, so here’s to hoping you just run into someone on the street. 

You hop into the sedan that you were renting until you could buy a car. It was nice but it was no match for your long dirt driveway. You already expected to pay extra for all the dings on the exterior. 

The roads that lead into Main Street are long and winding. You loved driving, so when it was nice enough to put the windows down, you did so. 

Since there’s no one on this specific stretch, you decide to switch the CD you had shoved into the disc drive, opting for another mix you had made years ago. The radio never played what you wanted, especially the local stations in Taylor. 

In your distracted scramble for the CD, you don’t take note of the large stallion running next to your car. The CD is wedged between the seat and the main console and your fingers cannot reach the awkward position. 

You’re not speeding. But when a giant horse runs out in front of you, you can not hit the break quickly enough. You stop breathing, bracing for impact. You jerk the wheel slightly, swerving away from the steed.  Before your front end can make an impact, the horse is snatched back towards the divot in the road. 

You are in complete and utter shock over how abruptly it all happened. 

Your eye eventually catches a man on horseback, his cowboy hat shields most of his face, but you are more focused on how built this man looks. His biceps were straining against his button-up shirt as he held the lasso taut against his chest. His legs were locked around the brown stallion he was on, his jeans riddled with mud and dust. He had dark curls that peaked out from under his hat.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” You yell, your car slowly inching forward from its spot in the middle of the road, “Where did that thing even come from?”

The mysterious cowboy just shakes his head and trots away, clicking his tongue to guide the horse back into the field. 

Your heart felt like it may leap out of your chest. A car was chugging down the road ahead of you, so you knew you had to move out of the way. You turn into your lane and slowly start down the road again.

You do not even bother trying to find the CD, again. You would rather sit in complete silence. 

-

When you make it to the small stretch of downtown, your heart rate slows down. You spot a local furniture store that looks a bit dated. It was your best bet plus, you wanted to stand on solid ground and gain your bearings. 

You parallel park rather terribly and hop out of your car. You huff loudly, throwing your purse over your shoulder and slamming the door behind you. 

A hot cowboy saved your life. 

It’s the most Texas thing that’s happened to you since you moved here. 

You head inside the storefront. A smaller white-haired lady sits at the front desk, her head in a gossip magazine. 

“Well, hello there,” You muster in your best cheery voice, trying to act like you did not almost die, “I’m lookin’ for some furniture.”

She chuckles as she places her reading next to the register, “Well, you came to the right place, sweetheart.”

You return the laugh, glancing around the large store. Couches and recliners in rows in the front, wooden bed sets lining the back wall. You were so indecisive, you were not completely sure where to start. 

“I need a bedroom set and a couch or two. I just moved into th-”

“The old Caldwell farmhouse,” She cuts you off, hopping off her stool, “Saw you movin’ in a couple days ago. My boy is your neighbor.”

The joke about small towns is always true, you know that already. Everyone knows everyone else’s business. You could not shit without someone knowing about it. 

You raise your eyebrows, acting like you’re shocked she knows about you already. “Yes, that’s right. Your boy?”

“My oldest son, Joel. He lives across the way from ya,” She starts gesturing towards the couches, “Pop a squat on one and see which one ya like.”

You end up sitting on every couch before landing on a brown leather one with a matching loveseat. The old woman is a great saleswoman on top of being sickly sweet. She told you since you are one of her first customers of the month, she would give you a great discount on a coffee table. You were a sucker for a good deal. 

You knew what bed set you wanted immediately. It was a light-washed wood with tall pillars sticking out of every corner. It came with two matching dressers and one nightstand. It was only you, so you didn’t quite care about another side table anyway. 

When the lady starts tallying up your total, you watch the slow-moving downtown. A couple walking across the street into the small diner. An older gentleman walking his small dog. The rickety old trucks that loudly took up the roads. 

You’re so stuck in your head, you don’t even hear what your total is. All you do is hand over your credit card. She smiles and giggles as she swipes the card. 

“So I’ll have my boy deliver it to you tomorrow. He is busy workin’ today, but I’ll have him get it to you. He’s quite the handyman, always busy doing jobs around town. Will you be home in the morning?”

You would have to have some strange man in your home to set up the heavy wooden furniture. It made the hairs on your arm stand up. You knew you would not be able to haul it all, so you had to take the leap of faith and hope and pray this frail old lady’s son is not a serial killer. Or stalker. Or both. 

You needed your furniture, after all. 

It will be okay, you tell yourself. 

“U-uh, I will,” You swallow, “I don’t work right now, so I’ll be home all day.”

“Oh, goody! I will send him your way in the morning. He may have his brother with him just to get the bed up your stairs, but I promise they are good boys. If they aren’t, you come to me and their mama will deal with them.”

You laugh nervously, “Of course, thank you so much.”

–

You had woken up late, your anxiety creeping up on you last night. Your brain would not stop racing. You didn’t fall asleep until 2 am. You hop out of bed around 10:30 and wrap yourself in a cardigan. You have been leaving all the windows open at night, but you can tell the seasons are shifting because it gets so cold at night. 

The doorbell rings and it’s like your heart falls out of your chest. You know that after you open this door, you’re welcoming in someone completely new and unexpected and it makes your whole body jitter. You make your way to the front door and take a deep breath before opening it. 

Of course. It’s him. The hot cowboy. 

It made sense. The endless green across from your home had to be part of his property. The road you almost died on yesterday was right beside his land. His house was tucked right across from the end of your driveway, with countless barns spread across a couple of acres.

You were secretly hoping he would be some silly-looking hillbilly, but instead, you find out your delivery man is the ridiculously attractive cowboy from the day before. His hair is tidy and dark without the cowboy hat on. It’s peppered with some white hairs, but it only adds to his appearance. His flannel has the top three buttons undone and his jeans are stained with age. You are finally able to get a good look at his face with no shadows covering his permanent scowl. 

He had to be about 10 years older than you. You were not too far off from wrinkles, but you were still young enough to bear children without being considered geriatric. 

He squints at you when you swing the door open. The sun is hitting his eyes, highlighting the warm rich brown color. 

“Howdy neighbor,” He greets, a small smirk plays on his lips, “’m Joel. Nice to meet you officially.”

You introduce yourself, trying not to stutter as you say your name. He made you nervous. You chalk it up to just being nervous around men in general. But it’s the way his eyes trailed you as you moved just slightly.

You feel the need to clear the air because of the way he’s staring through you. 

“And uh, listen, about yesterday,” You try to apologize, but he cuts you off by raising his hand. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time an outsider got themselves hurt bein’ reckless down the backroads. Just glad you didn’t hit my horse.”

The response has a bit of a bite to it. You back up a step, your body also taken aback by his directness. You are used to confrontational people, but you’re not used to Southern folk being that way. 

“No, next time I’ll aim for the ditch and tell my insurance that there was a silly cowboy in the road that I had to miss.”

You can tell by the sheepish smile on his face that he was not expecting you to be feisty.

“Don’t think they’d give ya’ much money for that,” He says in a hushed but matter-of-fact tone.

You relax your shoulders, trying to collect yourself. “Probably not.” 

He turns back to his truck that has your bed frame in the back of it, disregarding the previous statements. “My brother is comin’ by in a few to help me get this stuff in.”

“Well, let’s not let all the air out of the house right now,” You extend the door wider for him. You are giving this man full access to your home now. You try to suppress your obsessive thoughts and instead decide that you know exactly what you can have him do while you wait. You remember his mom told you he was good with his hands, and since he wants to be snarky to you in the comfort of your own home, you would try to pick his mind about some of your home projects. “Come in, let me ask you something.” 

You begin, gesturing him into the entryway. He accepts the offer, kicking his boots off on the porch. You appreciate his thoughtfulness and for a second, you realize you may be the asshole. 

“Mama told you I was a handyman, didn’t she?”

You giggle, finding it funny that he could read the situation you were about to put him in. “She sure did.”

“She needs to stop tellin’ folks that,” His accent is so thick and syrupy, that it makes your insides tingle, “Got too many people askin’ me to fix their stuff.”

You guide him to the bathroom right off the living room and kitchen, “You know much about plumbing?”

“I’m assumin’ you don’t,” He mutters, “What do you have goin’ on?”

You point to the loudly running toilet, “This thing won’t stop running no matter what I do.”

“Well, what have you tried doin’?”

You both stand in the hallway, you looking up at him with furrowed brows, him looking down at you with anticipation. He was quick-witted, and you started to hate how much you liked it. He gave your sassiness a run for it’s money.

“I’ve flushed it a bunch of times. Cursed at it and kicked it,” He stares at you blankly. It makes your stomach roll, “Jesus, Cowboy, can you give a girl a break?”

He enters the narrow bathroom, approaching the toilet like there may be a bomb in it. He reaches towards the handle and jiggles it violently, which makes you giggle a bit. That’s exactly what you did. 

“So, why here?” He questions, squatting in front of the bowl. He continues to mess with the handle while you process his no-context question.

“What Texas or this bathroom?”

He chuckles, his smile spreading across his beautifully tanned skin. 

“You got tons of jokes, huh?” 

You don’t respond, just shrug your shoulders. He stands up, wiggling the top of the tank off the toilet. You watch his hands lock onto the sides of it, ensuring it will not drop off and shatter on the dated tile. 

“Texas,” He strains, freeing his left hand to mess with the handle. You lean against the door frame. 

You are not even sure why Texas. You just needed to get as far as you could away from New York. You did not want your past to catch up with you, and you did not want to get stuck in a city again. But you could not share all this with a random stranger. He may be in your house, looking at your commode, but you can’t completely trust him yet. 

“I just wanted a change of scenery. I always wanted a farmhouse.”

“Lots of upkeep,” He jabs, doing one more once over of the tank, “‘M thinking you may need a new float or chain. I can get my tools tomorrow and come over to fix it. May need to order a new part, though.”

You push off the wall, arms still crossed over your front. He puts the top back on and finally makes eye contact with you. 

He would come over again? To fix your toilet? 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, ‘m sure it’s the chain or float.”

“No, I m-mean,” You start to stumble over your words. You swallow, collecting yourself for a moment so you do not look crazy to him. “Are you sure you’re okay coming back over?”

He gives you a thin-lipped smile, “What are neighbors for?”

-

His brother arrives in a rickety old truck at about 15 past 11. He looks a lot like him, but shorter. He has those same eyes though, permanently tired. 

“Nice to meet ya, ma’am. ‘M Tommy.”

You grab his hand to shake it and he lingers a bit longer than you anticipated. Joel stayed on your front porch, putting his boots back on to start unloading the furniture. 

You are thankful the weather was kind today, especially since every evening this week has been stormy. The sun was beating mighty hard on the men as they collaborated on getting your furniture inside.

While they get everything set up, you busy yourself making lunch. You get the bright idea to make them each a sandwich. It’s the least you could do. 

You pile the cold-cut turkey and cheese onto the white bread you had, topping it with some mayo. When you hear their footsteps trailing down the stairs, you race out with the sandwiches on a porcelain plate.

“For your troubles,” You say before standing in their path to the door. Tommy smiles brightly, instantly snatching a sandwich from the plate. 

“Thanks, darlin’,” He takes a big bite, humming in satisfaction. He walks around you, leaving you standing in front of Joel. His eyes are piercing, his lips ajar a bit, but nothing is coming out. 

“Turkey and cheese, I promise.”

He reaches out grabbing the sandwich from you, “No sweet tea to go with it?”

Your heart sinks, instantly becoming self-conscious of your decision to be nice to these hicks. He was so intimidating with his steely expressions and broad shoulders. There was an essence about him that did not speak to his stone-cold exterior. It was more gentle. But you could only see hints of it when he smiled. 

He can tell the wheels in your head are spinning. Before you can speak, takes a bite of the sandwich and shakes his head. 

“‘m kidding, Yankee. Thank you, I ‘preciate it.”

You settle for letting out a long sigh and returning to your kitchen. You spend a couple of minutes, putting back all the ingredients in their proper places. 

You hear Tommy yell for Joel, his voice kind of panicked. You race out the front door and see Tommy balancing your coffee table off the side of the truck. Joel is running to his aid, the dust from your driveway kicking up behind him. You hold your breath watching Joel help him balance the wooden piece of furniture. 

“Can’t have you breakin’ your back before homecoming,” Joel fusses, guiding the legs of the table to the ground, “You know damn well Maria would have me, too.”

“Yeah, what’s a homecoming game without the head coach?”

You perk up, instantly becoming interested in the conversation that you weren’t supposed to be listening in on. The two men lift the table and start heading your way, right on the threshold. 

“You coach football?” You ask Tommy, trying not to show your excitement. You loved football, it reminded you of Sundays with your grandfather. You never got the privilege to go to an actual game, even in high school. 

“Yes, ma’am, for the local high school in Taylor. We are gonna make it to the state championships this year.” 

You glance at Joel when he says it. He rolls his eyes, “Gotta win at least one game to do that, Tommy.”

They place the coffee table right in front of your new leather couch. Tommy grunts, trying not to argue with his brother in front of a strange lady. 

He can’t help himself, though. He instantly snaps back at Joel.

“You know them boys have been practicin’ day in and day out. Why ya gotta be so negative?”

Joel places his hands on his hips, “Cause Sarah told me the guys in her grade are a bunch of dummies. I highly doubt they are ready to kick Georgetown’s asses.”

Tommy starts towards the door, “Just cause Sarah says it, doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“I believe my honor student daughter before I believe my dumbass little brother.”

You are not shocked Joel has a daughter. You are just shocked that she’s in high school. He looked too young to have a teen, but then again, he did have some grays sprouting. You cross your arms over your chest, watching Joel scoot the table across your hardwoods. 

You’re staring at his hands, trying to conjure up a wedding ring on his left finger. But there’s nothing. Maybe he did not wear it when he was working. Maybe he just forgot to put it on this morning. Maybe his passive aggressiveness towards you was simply to ensure there was distance between you and him, giving you subtle hints that he was taken. 

He finally glances up at you, stopping in his tracks when he notes your gaze. 

“Somethin’ wrong?”

You have no clue what to say because you are so trapped in your head about him. He’s a stranger, god damn it.

“N-no, everything is okay.”

“Don’t look it.”

“I just was not expecting the coffee table to look so dark against the hardwood,” you lie, pulling whatever you could think of out of your hat, “Doesn’t it look dark?”

Joel looks between the floor and the table, shifting in his stance, “Don’t know bout that.” 

“O-oh okay.”

“Alright, well we got ya all set up now,” He starts to head towards the entryway. You trail behind him like a lost puppy, “I’ll be by sometime tomorrow with that part for the toilet. I’m expectin’ another sandwich for that one.”

You grab your front door as you wave to Tommy as he heads for his truck. He smiles and gives you a head nod. Joel turns back to you, his ears perked up for a sarcastic jab from you.

  You think back to something he said to you earlier. You crack a smile, “What are neighbors for?”

PART 1 COMING SOON!

taglist (ppl who asked to be tagged): @joeldjarin @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @mysaviorjoelmiller @brittmb115 @missladym1981 @jasminedragoon

[indigosunsetao3]

Hey! Sorry I'm not sure if you're taking requests but there's this trend on tiktok where people are calling their boyfriends their husband and I thought it would be cute to see 141s reaction to the same🥰

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGey2YkXT/

Feel free to take creative liberties otherwise there's no pressure at all to do it! :)

I am definitely taking requests! It's fun to get different prompt/ideas and figuring out to make them work.

This is too cute! I was going to just do a list-type answer but then one thing turned into another and I had all sorts of scenarios running through my mind while at work. So, I took a little creative liberty. Some of them are acknowledging the trend, others are situational conversations.

Hope you enjoy! And you know I had to put Alex in 😘

Alex

It was the second time in a month that a stupid pipe burst. That’s what you got for insisting on buying a fixer upper in the coldest winter the area had seen in years. You had managed to get the water cut off before it completely flooded the whole downstairs then set about cleaning up the mess.

Alex had arrived to find you a frazzled mess as you mopped up the water when your phone rang. The plumber. Alex quickly handed you the phone before he went about mopping. The plumber couldn’t be there today, earliest it would be was Monday. You couldn’t be home that day.

Looking at Alex, who could hear the call, he nodded and mouthed he could be there.

“I won’t be here, but my husband will,” you say. It’s a slip of the tongue. Alex and you didn’t even live together yet but just calling him a boyfriend seemed so minuscule compared to how you felt.

Alex had instantly stopped mopping and watched you curiously. The plumber continued talking but you barely heard what he said. You could feel the burning red of embarrassment on your cheeks as you watched Alex's face for his reaction. This was not a conversation you were ready for. You had wanted to talk to him about it, soon, but not today.

“Right, okay. Yes, his name is Alex, I’ll send you his number,” you assure the man as you continue to stare at Alex. Alex had gone back to mopping but you saw the stupid happy grin on his face as he worked and a hint of a red tinge to his cheeks. Hanging up you set your phone on the counter and take a deep breath.

“Listen I didn’t mean,” you start but Alex leans the mop against the fridge and steps toward you, his feet splashing in the water a bit.

"Oh, I think you did mean it," he answers grabbing your hips. "And here I was thinking I was just your boy toy for home improvement."

"Hush," you answer still feeling the tingle of the blush that had gone up to your ears.

Gaz

Gaz insisted that you still do your monthly book club even though you protest, preferring to spend time with him. Him being home was a luxury and you had honestly started the online club as a way to pass lonely days counting down his return.

Leaning down you read the chat as people start joining. You grin at the number of people you managed to amass in the past few weeks. The beauty of online was anyone from anywhere could join. You had a few people from other countries even and always tried to set the meeting times to be accommodating for all.

After you all start talking and chatting about the book Gaz flops comfortably on the couch next to you handing you a glass of wine. He hadn't read the book but he was still interested in what you were doing so he peers at the screen, the side of his face visible to everyone for a fraction of a second.

It sends the chat into a tizzy. Everyone knew you had a significant other but they had never seen him. The comments are flying which makes you laugh before pointing a few out to Gaz who grins.

“They’re dying to know who you are,” you venture looking over at him. “Comfortable saying hello to my friends?” You raise your eyebrows and Gaz pauses before straightening his shirt in an exaggerated manner, preening himself. He nods and you turn the camera to face him so you are out of screen.

“Everyone this is Kyle,” you say grinning before tacking on, “my husband.” It was a joke, something you had seen people doing online as a trend.

It got his attention though. His eyes flick up to yours as the sounds of the chat pinging start going off tenfold. He's ignoring what people are saying, verbal and written, as his eyes rake over your face while you casually sip your wine staring back at him.

“My deepest apologies,” Kyle says after a moment as looks back at the camera while undoing the top button of his polo. “But I’m going to have to cut our session a little short. My wife,” he emphasizes the word as his eyes lock on yours, “and I have something to tend to.” He doesn’t give them a chance to respond before he snaps the laptop shut and all but chucks it on the recliner.

He’s on you in a moment, pinning you down into the couch as you giggle. “Husband?” He grins and you swear you see him glance at your empty ring finger.

Ghost

Simon wasn't a fan of pictures of himself if his face was visible. He has loads of you though, his camera roll was just random shots of you mixed in with work items and stupid memes from his team. But you barely had any casual pictures of him in return. The pictures were always of you holding hands, or you pressed up against his chest with his arms around you. He didn't mind taking pictures that way, always holding his pose for you until you got it just to your standards after the first or fifty tries. Photography made you happy and even if he was a bit self-conscious about it, he fed your hobby.

The few times you could get a picture of his face with his approval he always had his mask on, only his striking eyes were visible as he stared at you. It was fine, you understood why, but you missed looking at his face when he was gone.

So while you are at a local cafe, safely tucked into a back corner, and he takes off his mask you dare to snap a picture. His hood is up, the lower half of his face obscured by the cup but you could still see his light blond stubble on his jaw. The slight crook of his nose where it had been broken and not set properly years ago. Even a small glimpse of the corner of his lips which were a natural pink that made you envious.

"Love," Simon says quietly as he looks at you from over the cup.

"I'm sorry. The light in here was too good to pass up," you sigh and scroll to delete it, savoring it for a second as your thumb hovers over the trashcan icon. "I miss looking at my husband when you're gone," you explain as you hit the button and watch the picture wipe away.

"Husband?" Simon asks quietly as he sets down his cup and carefully pulls his hood forward a bit to make sure his profile is covered.

You don't answer as you look back up at him and set your phone on the table between you. Instead, you grab your own cup and stare right back at him. It was a joke you had seen online, see how your boyfriend reacts to the official title. You didn't expect much from it, maybe a laugh or a joke in response but he doesn't do either.

He instead reaches out to nudge your phone back toward your hand and cock his head to the side a bit. Then he smiles, a genuine heartfelt smile that sets your heart fluttering.

"Go on then," he says nodding his head at the phone. "One picture, just for you. From your husband," he smirks as you fumble for the camera in a rush.

Price

You snuck out of bed early that morning, having to creep quietly out of the room because John was such a light sleeper. It was his birthday and you were determined to give him some sort of a surprise. He always made sure your day was special, always took care of you, so it was your turn.

Shushing the dogs you set about making breakfast, careful to not bang the pans too loud, and diving for the kettle as it starts to whistle. It was a simple dish of eggs and bacon with hot tea, but John loved anything hot and homecooked. You had to shove the dogs outside before walking back up the stairs balancing everything carefully before hipping open the door.

"Damn it," you mutter as you see him half sitting up in bed smiling at you. "How long have you been up?"

"Mmm, since you tripped over your slippers," he answers with a small chuckle at your face. You thought you had gotten away with it, he hadn't even twitched as you cussed and caught yourself on the dresser. "You were so determined I didn't want to ruin it," he grins.

"One day I'll surprise my husband," you say with a sigh before setting his tea on the nightstand and the breakfast in his lap. He doesn't answer, doesn't move, as he looks at you. It seems you managed to surprise him after all as his eyebrows climb up toward his messy bed tousled hair.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have," you start back peddling. "It's just a joke my friends told me to try. It's all over social media, they did it with their boyfriends and thought it was funny." You explain as he slides the plate off his lap and sets it on the nightstand next to his tea.

"Do you think it's a joke?" He asks tilting his head to the side a bit, watching you get flustered and trip over your words. He's grinning now though as he crosses his arms over his bare chest waiting for you to get yourself out of your rambling.

"I mean the trend is a joke," you start, "but I mean if," you were making a mess of this.

"Sweetheart, I was ready to marry you after our second date. I am your husband, even if I haven't managed to get you down that aisle yet." He smiles and tugs you toward him as you attempt to reconcile how a simple joke had John confessing he'd had marriage on the brain for almost a year.

Soap

Another conference for work. At least this time you were able to bring Johnny along. You had forced your boss to agree to let you bring him even if it was only supposed to be for spouses. You told him it was either Johnny came or you wouldn't be there. You’d be damned if you were missing Soap’s short leave to sit in a stuffy room full of men praising their own egos ignoring you because you were a woman.

“Am I fancy enough to be here?” Johnny asks, a teasing smirk on his face. He was in a button down and slacks with a tie to match your cocktail dress for dinner.

“Plenty fancy,” you answer back smiling as you take his extended elbow. “Let’s get this over with,” you huff as you step on the elevator. A networking dinner with other people that were in your field and while it was better having Johnny here it was still not your favorite thing to do.

Johnny gently leaves you to go grab drinks while you stake out an empty table. It's not deserted for long before one of your coworkers stands right next to you at the high top giving you a once over. You had managed to avoid him all day but he had managed to spot you alone and swoop in out of nowhere.

“Who’s the guy?” He asks as he eyes Johnny at the bar striking up a genial conversation with the bartender. You really couldn’t take Johnny anywhere without him making friends. “I thought we were only allowed to bring spouses,” he tacks on. You had been fighting off Mark's advances for months, as politely as possible, but you'd had enough.

“John,” you answer coolly as you set your purse on the standing cocktail table. He didn’t get to call him Johnny. “And who says he isn’t my spouse?” You ask raising an eyebrow. He wasn’t your spouse, you weren’t even formally engaged, but to you Johnny was the one anyway.

“Says the lack of any ring,” he says pointing to your hand. He never took no for an answer, ignored you when you said you had a boyfriend. He was persistent and creepy but it was ending tonight.

“John,” you say as Johnny walks over to your other side with a beer and your vodka soda. He knows something is up, his eyebrow quirks at the use of the formality of his name. “I’d like you to meet Mark,” you gesture to him emphasizing the name because Johnny had heard all about him.

“Mark, meet my husband,” you say boldly.

If Johnny was shocked he didn’t let on. He just gently places a hand on your lower back before setting his beer down and extending the other to Mark to shake his hand. You can see him squeeze a bit too hard despite being jovial and kind. The conversation remains casual and a bit forced after that before Mark excuses himself.

Johnny doesn’t say anything about how you introduce him to everyone as your husband, just exchanges pleasantries in return. But you notice his hand never leaves your body in one way or another and he’s been grinning to himself the whole evening. Cutting his eyes to you with a shine to them every time you say husband and even stepping in himself to introduce himself as your husband to a few people.

“Husband, lass?” He asks once he gets you alone in the elevator.

“Sorry,” you mutter kicking off your heels to which he extends a hand to take them without you asking. “Mark just won't get the hint and I,” he cuts you off crowding you into the corner as the lift steadily rises.

“Don’t apologize,” he grins tilting your head up. “I like how it sounds.”

[alln1plumbing]

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[slowlyhardgoatee]

You ain’t done yet, faggot. Not by a long way. You did a good job licking up my cum and piss off the floor, but now you’re gonna get it straight from the source. See, I ain’t washed my cock since I was balls deep up your unconscious cunt. You were out for a good while and I blew two or three loads of cream up that hole, boy, as well as a bladder full of piss. But if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s having a dirty dick. So, now you’re awake. Lucky you. You get to clean my dirty cock off, faggot. See all that slime all over it? That’s off your cunt. Probably a mixture of mine and your Owner’s cum, your natural pussy juice and my piss. You made the mess, faggot, you clean it up. Open wide, pig. Now. 

That’s it, boy, every inch needs cleaning. Get it right down the back of that throat. Yeah, boy, that’s what your cunt tastes like. I hope you like- 

Hold on a second, faggot, are you playing with yourself? Oh no. No no no don’t you fucking dare. Hands off. In fact, give ‘em here. New rule, boy. Every time you’re sucking on a cock from now on, there’ll be a decision to make. Either your hands get cuffed behind your back for the duration of the blow job, or your hands go up on the bloke’s chest and you work his nipples for him. It’s up to him, of course, your opinion obviously doesn’t ever matter. Me, I like getting my nips tugged on while I’m raping a boy’s throat. Hands up, pig. Yeah, fuckin’ pull on ‘em, boy. Harder. You do not, ever, touch your tiny little pin-dick without permission, d’you hear me, faggot? Not even to piss. The sooner that cock cage turns up, the better. I look forward to locking it myself before making you beg me to piss all over your face. 

Ah, if only your slut of a wife could see you now, eh? Servicing four blokes’ cocks one after the other without a word of complaint. It’s like you really know your place. Now keep tugging on them nipples, pig boy. It’s time to swallow my cum. You ready, faggot? Here it comes… here it comes… tug on ‘em, fucker, you fuuuuuucking dirty little SLUT. FUCK yeah, boy, swallow it all. Good pig. Now hold still. Time you swallowed a hot load of my beer piss, and all. Don’t you fucking move, boy. Here it comes. 

Aaaahhhhh, fuck yeah that feels so great. Drink it down, you slut. Y’know, I only live up the street and I had booked a plumber to come out to my house next week - pipes are backing up so using the bathroom is kinda iffy right now - but now I know your toilet pig mouth is gonna be readily available, I can just come round here when I need to piss, can’t I? I might just cancel him and get someone to rip the bathroom out entirely. Set up a fuck sling in there instead and have you over whenever I want. Sound good to you, pig? Hahaha - don’t even bother answering, boy, that pin-dick of yours just got rock hard. Too bad for you it’ll end up locked up in a cock cage for the rest of your life and be completely ignored. Hey Terry, when did you say this faggot’s cock cage turns up? Is it next week? Yeah? Hmmm, that’s far too long away for my liking, boy. Tell you what, guys - you three keep passing this faggot around between you. I’ll run home real quick - a boy I was chatting with online last month begged me to buy a collar and cock cage for him, but I haven’t mailed them to him yet. Cage’ll probably be a little too big for this pig’s needle-cock, but it’s better than nothing. Least then he can focus on being a full-time hole without getting distracted by his pathetic excuse for a pecker every five minutes. You guys carry on belting and breeding his cunt. I’ll be right back. 

TO BE CONTINUED…?

[useless19]

In one of my previous posts I mentioned reading/playing the old Nintendo Adventure Books when I was a kid. Out of curiosity, I managed to find some scans of them online and poked through some of the ones I didn't used to have.

They still have an old-school cartoon vibe (constant quips, a lot of nasty appearance-shaming toward the bad guys, etc - they're from 1991), but if you can get over that, I really like the way they often have puzzles to give you hints as to which way to go. It's something I feel is missing from most choose-your-own-adventure books.

(Okay, yes, sometimes the puzzles pushed you in the wrong direction or were just straight up wrong, but the concept is there at least).

However, the reason I'm making this post, is because book 4 Koopa Capers has an opening which I'm amazed that the bowuigi crowd seems to have missed.

"KoopExpress," a voice yells outside the Super Mario Bros. plumbing shop in the heart of Brooklyn, New York. "Special Delivery!"

Luigi looks up from his new invention, a water-powered pasta machine. It isn't working quite right. "Strange," he says. "Mario and I weren't expecting any deliveries today."

The tall, thin plumber tucks his high-tech plumber's helper into the pocket of his green overalls and heads for the door.

When Luigi opens the door, he sees a big package on the stoop. It looks like a giant hero sandwich wrapped in brown paper. "Mmm, looks tasty! But there's no return address," he says, stroking his thick black mustache.

Luigi is even more puzzled when he takes the paper off. "It's a rug!" he exclaims. "I wonder where it came from?" He unrolls the carpet on the living room floor. "Very pretty. It looks like a Goomba pattern."

He steps onto the rug to get a better look. "Hey!" he shouts as it comes to life under his feet. It's a magic carpet!

Before Luigi can escape, the rug wraps itself around him so that only his head and feet protrude from the ends. It rises into the air and zooms down the hall through the special pipe in the workshop that leads to the Mushroom World.

The next thing Luigi knows, the rug screeches to a halt in front of Bowser Koopa's castle. "Oh no!" Luigi thinks. "I'm being served to my worse enemy for dessert."

Out of the corner of his eye, Luigi sees two large helmeted red turtles carrying hammers. The Hammer Brothers! They waddle up to Luigi, pick him up, and carry him into the castle, still wrapped in the magic carpet.

Soon Luigi's bearers arrive at Bowser's enormous throne room. They unroll the carpet and send Luigi tumbling across the floor. He rolls to a halt at the scaly feet of Bowser Koopa, king of the turtles and leader of most of the bad guys in the Mushroom World.

"Good," Bowser says, squinting down his slimy snout at the prisoner. "Now, everybody out! Not you," he growls as Luigi tries to sneak off with the rest of the crowd.

Bowser waits until everyone else leaves. Then, in an embarrassed whisper, he says, "I need your help, plumber."

Before Luigi can recover from shock, the turtle king goes on. "My daughter, Wendy O. Koopa has vanished! She may have been kidnapped," he gulps, shedding a large crocodile tear.

He wipes his eyes with his sleeve and continues. "I sent my Koopa Troopas to search for her, but with no luck. I need a real hero to find her!" He puts his arm around Luigi's shoulder and adds, "I know you can do it. But the whole thing must be hush-hush. I want it kept a secret from my sons, the Koopalings. It's possible that one of them may be the kidnapper. Besides, no one can know you're working for me. It would be terrible for my image."

Luigi is very confused. "Let's recap," he says. "You want my to find your daughter? And you don't plan to tell anyone I'm working for you? So I'll still have to fight your flunkies, including your bratty kids, while I'm doing it?"

Bowser nods. "Right. Of course, your brother Mario might have been a better choice, but---"

"Oh sure, everyone would rather have Mario," Luigi retorts, offended. "Too bad he's fixing that drip at Niagara Falls. What if I say no?"

"I'd be very annoyed," says King Koopa, showing all his teeth in a sinister smile.

As Luigi looks at Bowser's enormous teeth, he says to himself, "Maybe Bowser is telling the truth. There's a first time for everything. And he does seem upset."

Luigi takes another look at the turtle. Bowser is now gazing at the ceiling and whistling innocently. "On the other hand, he's a born liar," the plumber thinks. "Well, maybe I should look into this mystery, just to see what the real story is. Besides, it would be quite a tale to tell Mario."

"Are there any clues?" he asks aloud.

Bowser holds out two shreds of paper. "There was a note in her room, but her Nipper plant chewed it up. This is all that's left."

Luigi can read only two words, FORT and MAGMA, on the scraps. "Intriguing," he says. "Okay, I'll do it. It might even be fun!"

Solve this puzzle to see what happens next:

Help Luigi find his way through this message maze to see where the clues lead.

If you think Luigi should go to the Magma Pits, turn to page 55.

If you think Luigi should go to the Fortress, turn to page 20.

If you think Luigi should look around Koopa's Castle, turn to page 29.

[ramonaboat]

More Alex Claremont-Diaz in NYU

Because if Casey was to write a book just about him navigating student life, having more of the college experience he didn’t get in Georgetown, while being Henry’s bf… I would read it hundreds of times over. So to fill in the need, I will supply my own headcanons

Alex gets a solid stable friend group throughout, and somehow he’s made friends with who many consider underdogs. One of them is the daughter of a plumber in NYC, who got into NYU for her undergrad under a full scholarship. One of them is a gay man who was disowned by his family, but is happily married now. His more privileged friends are more aware about the advantages they have and are not assholes about it. He himself is privileged guy after all

He does have classmates who he can sense want to use him for their own gain and social brownie points. His friends are protective about it

When it was apparent to the students that their friend group was a thing, all of a sudden the once underdogs became more popular just by association with Alex. Social climbers want in. Alex kinda feels bad about it but his friends reassure him

June and Nora are happy that Alex has friends from school and outside the Super Six

Alex’s NYU friends get close to Henry eventually, as the former hosts a lot of study sessions at the brownstone as soon as he’s sure he can trust them

Alex’s friends are fascinated by the fact that he can be so ordinary sometimes. Like yes, he’s a brilliant student, was summa cum laude for his undergrad, was a freaking prodigy, but he also gets toothpaste stains on his hoodie and forgets to shave his stubble when he’s busy. He also falls asleep in the library, waking up to one side of his curls flatter than the other. He trips and sneezes and makes mistakes and had to take several trips to the bathroom after insisting on eating his leftovers gone bad (he didn’t have time to get anything else that day, okay?) He was extraordinary but ordinary

They help him get through his fear of disappointing people, of always needing to prove that Alex Claremont-Diaz is deserving because of his own brilliance and not because of his parents (particularly his mother)

The friends also freak out when his Mom calls. They have moms that call them too but like.. hearing the President’s voice on the other line just talking to her kid and asking normal mother questions was a surreal experience. That they don’t quite get used to it.

For one of his friend’s birthdays he gives her an Apple Pencil, because she saved up to buy an iPad from her corporate job so she can annotate her readings from there but mostly used non-Apple styluses cause she didn’t have the budget for an Apple Pencil yet. When she received it she was shocked cause it was expensive for a stylus but Alex insisted. He doesn’t throw around his money, he doesn’t like to make his friends uncomfy with expensive gifts, but he knows when to help

They know Alex loves him when people genuinely don’t know things about him. There are loads of facts about him online and in the press, so when people ask him about things they know are out there and are public knowledge he gets excited. People often already know things about him, it gives him a semblance of normalcy

He still occasionally likes the spotlight though, he is ACD. He loves it most when he can use his influence to do good, like give spotlight to certain charities

He has a cool prof one semester that made them have a karaoke session during the last class. Used the class projector for it and everything. Alex sang London Boy and the class went wild

He once brings a tupperware filled with cookies to share. “My boyfriend baked them,” he said nonchalantly as if his boyfriend weren’t the Prince of freaking England. “He doesn’t have much kitchen experience but he’s been practicing and he’s pretty proud of this one” This was when his friends hadn’t met Henry yet so they were astounded

Eventually they get used to Henry making them tea, handing them drinks, serving them food (a lot of it takeout 😅)

Some study sessions end up being board game sessions, Henry’s included

Alex’s friends often tease him about how in love he is with Henry. Some fake gag when they’re being too sticky-sweet

Alex loves hosting dinners and study sessions and stuffing his friends. He knows a lot of them are struggling with scholarships and rent and jobs that barely pay the bills so he knows it helps them get their mind off a couple meals for the month. He also gets so much food that they all have leftovers to bring home and microwave for breakfast. He chalks it up not being good at estimating how much food they need, but really its his way of helping them. His friends catch on when they notice they always have their favorites ready.

This makes Henry love Alex even more

They discover Henry has a thing for when Alex uses legal jargon. They tease him about it. Henry threatens to throw them in the dungeon

His friends were once sharing horrible college dorm experiences. “Did you stay in dorms, Alex?” one of them asks even if they know the answer is now. “I, err, stayed at home” Home being the freaking WHITE HOUSE, one of them points out

His parents, June and Henry come during graduation. There was media coverage.

That’s it for today. To be honest with you I want to turn this into a fic in the POV of his classmates but I don’t have the time so let’s settle with this brain dump for now 😅

[caitlynlynch]

Hi. I've sometimes considered getting into narration and I was just wondering how you got yourself into the industry, if you have a moment...

I got in because I was already inside the house :P

Let me elaborate. I was already an author. I'd written stuff that suited my voice. I'd been wondering for a while about audio and when my writing org (Romance Writers of Australia) ran an online course about how to record your own audio, I decided to pay the $55 cost and see what it was all about. I had a high school acting background and was reasonably confident I had a suitable voice, I already had a cheap USB mic, I hung a few blankets in my closet, and got to work. I recorded a couple of short stories I'd written in the Austen fanfic genre and posted them for free in an Austen fanfic fan group on Facebook asking what people thought. Within literally days I had other authors pretty much all over me asking what I charged. I really didn't know what it was worth, so I did a bit of research and quoted a rate (about 2/3 of my current rate) and booked my first paying project. I then got really lucky. I got hired by an author to do a series of 12 books, one a month, if I would guarantee the rate I was then charging. Sure, I said. I've since done over 30 books for that author. I've upgraded my equipment and my skills since then, but tbh most of my work still comes through authors I know - I hardly have to audition - and my theory is this: People are lazy. If you need a skilled job doing and you have a close acquaintance who has that skill, you hire them. An electrician, or a plumber, for example. You don't go looking for a different one. If someone wants a British-accented female narrator and they've been chatting with me on social media for 5 years, there's a high probability they're gonna say "Hey you want the job?" rather than have to go through the auditioning process and then trust a complete stranger when quite a bit of money is on the line. The way I got into narration won't work for people who aren't already embedded in the author community, unfortunately. I'd already done the preliminary work, not that I realised what I was doing, and I was positioned to take advantage of it.

If you want to get into narration, the first thing you need to do is go to the Narrator's Roadmap and take advantage of allll the free resources. Now, you need to do some PRACTICE. I've recommended before to people who want; approach fanfic authors and ask if you can make podfic of their work. You won't get paid but you'll learn A LOT.

Once you've got a few recordings under your belt I recommend getting a tech consult. There are a couple of people who will do a freebie to start - Don Baarns is a leading engineer in the field, or my personal tech guru is Jim Edgar.

Don't skip this step. You need to be sure your work is up to quality standards or you're wasting your time auditioning. And then you need to start auditioning. Go back to the Narrator's Roadmap for the where and how.

Good luck. It's not for everyone, but it's something I love doing, and I'm lucky enough to be earning a decent rate for it. I could absolutely make a full-time living out of it but, for me, sitting in a cupboard all day talking to fictional people isn't great for my mental health, so I keep a part-time day job to get me out of the house.

[sailor-cerise]

Since I don't see exhaustive examples of what types of support low support needs might entail, I've put mine below. The vast majority of my struggles are from my autism, but my physical disabilities and ADHD also contribute.

The reason I share this is to help people think more deeply about what "supports" means, and understand the different support levels.

Examples of tasks I need significant help with:

Handling any maintenance or repair tasks. I can and have done things like called a plumber, but I cry afterwards and am shaky and on edge the entire time they are on the phone or in my room/house. I have the capacity to do this a few times a year, spread far apart, which is typically much lower than the number of times I need this done. This includes car maintenance, which my partner helps me with.

Doing my taxes. I literally cry while downloading my W2 for my partner to do our taxes, and have had a panic attack because I needed to find an email receipt for tax purposes.

Paying a bill. Best case scenario it's something I can pay online, but I still cannot do more than one at a time and greatly benefit from emotional and logistical support.

Any other financial stuff: transferring money between accounts, managing investments, etc. I log into my accounts and my partner does things for me. I recently gave them access to most accounts now so they can do this without the first step and this one is scary to me but has been so so beneficial. We've been together about 15 years and they always ask permission and tell me specifics. Be careful who you trust with this if you have any choice.

House cleaning. I can do more than my severely physically disabled mother could when I was growing up, but not much. My partner also struggles here but we help each other.

Making decisions. I can decide what to eat and things related to my special interests (e.g. what book to read) for myself, but I really struggle deciding what color of sheets to get, alternatives to grocery brands when one is out of stock, how to cut my hair, which route to take while driving, which parking space to use, etc. and truly cannot do anything bigger (color to paint the kitchen, replacement water heater brand). I will completely shut down.

Examples of things I can do mostly independently (after having put in lasting supports with help from my partner and/or with significant effort). This is what makes me low support needs rather than medium: I can do these things.

Buy groceries (I order online and pickup curbside)

Make food for myself (I cannot reliably prepare food for anyone else)

Shower (I have a blue tooth speaker that I have a hard time showering without, and am able to shower 1-3 times a week)

Driving (sometimes I cannot drive due to physical issues)

Make and attend doctor's appointments (this one is mostly practice and saving up energy for it. I haven't been able to get support for this)

Take my medications (I have set up various systems that work well for me)

Renewing my prescriptions and picking them up (this is super hard and draining and I wish I had more supports for it, but it's something my partner struggles with too)

Working. I have so many accomodations here it's a separate long post. This includes work-related communication (often quite complex)

Ambulating. Sometimes I cannot walk more than a few steps. This is not from my autism.

Changing clothes. I hate doing this and would do it way less often than is appropriate if I did not have a partner that would be bothered by that

Brush my teeth. Oohhh boy this one took me most of my 33 years to sort out, and needed help from one of my best friends. Children's unsweetened toothpaste and ultra soft brushes are essential.

Flossing my teeth. Specific brand and type of floss, one in every room, and I'm actually good at it then. Really really proud of this one.

Brushing my hair. It's a whole Thing for me and I don't do it as often as I should but I can do it.

Making plans with friends or family. This is really hard and my mother helped me with it until she died and now I have some friends who are able to support me in this and I so appreciate them. My partner handles family plans mostly because most of my family is dead or lives very far away.

Speaking on the phone or in writing outside of work contexts. This is very very hard for me. I can do in person okay.

Socializing. This is very very hard for me but I do like it sometimes and have worked hard my whole life to be good at it. I tend to get along with people in a shallow manner.

Going into a crowded space. I need hearing protection (earplugs or headphones), and cannot do it for long periods. I handle it much better when I have a person with me, but hit my limit quickly.

Things I can do most days with no supports (most bADLs):

Basic in-person verbal communication, including limited quantities of small talk

Small purchases (cup of coffee, new book, etc.)

Toileting and continence

Going to bed and waking up

Remembering to eat and the act of eating

Drinking water

Get some gentle exercise of some sort, even just stretching in bed

Participate in one of my special interests. Any limitations here are usually from my physical disabilities, though I've lost this ability during autistic burnout before.

I am also fortunate to be capable of dealing well with emergencies (car accidents, injuries, de-escalation of a dangerous situation, pet emergencies, flooding), though like most people I break down if there are too many in a row. This isn't on any of the IADL lists I've seen, but I personally think it should be.

Reference:

[ben-10-setting-omnicrom]

It's crazy that Awaken Online doesn't have much fan content lol. Presenting my Ben 10/AO crossover.

Well I'll be changing that soon enough lol since the recent hurricane caused power to go out here for five days leading me to read the series again. I'm currently on the 2nd book of the Inferno trilogy of Awaken Online not that it'd matter since Ben would be arriving basically directly after the 2nd book ends and Alfred used Jason's body to defend himself against home invaders killing them.

I'll be doing a Ben 10/AO crossover where Hokestar accidentally sends him into the game making him both a PC and NPC at the same time, given he'll have the boon of classes/advanced learning but only one life and if the Gameworld goes offline there's a very real chance he'll die.

Of course given the massive power surge such an impossible event would cause his arrival boots everyone from the Gameworld simultaneously with the Omnitrix's AI quickly intervening so Alfred doesn't die and the Gameworld can continue uninterrupted from than on. Said intervention amounts to a far more realistic simulation, akin to what the Ultimate forms would have experienced from the ultimate simulation, an experience indistinguishable from reality and a time compression of 10 instead of 4 it was before their arrival.

This is what I currently have for the fic I haven't touched since Sep 21, 2021.

Omniverseal Awaken Online

Ben Tennyson is stuck inside yet another video game. Unfortunately for him it's in another universe and one with no real end goal in sight or credits roll. It's also run by a rogue AI in the body of a cat. Oh and he's perpetually in danger of actually dying should the servers for the VRMMO RPG he's in gets taken off line.

Ch 1: Paradigm Shift.

Ben groaned as he sat up, a stack of hay having broken his sudden fall as he grumbles to himself, a annoyed frown on his face.

"I'm so going to throw Hokstar into Plumber custody once I get back."

He blinked in surprise at how.... muted everything feels. His brow furrowed in confusion as he gets up from the hay pile only just now noticing how everyone around him seemed frozen in time.

"What the...?"

A sudden shuffle of feet across grass had Ben rapidly turn around only to spot a cat of all things looking at him in curiosity.

"I believe that's my line. You are.... Preplexing. You exist in my world yet I can't seem to interface with you."

Ben got out of his fight mode as he looked quizzically at the talking cat.

"Your world? What do you mean and why is everything so... Fuzzy? Nothing feels quite real."

The watch on Ben's wrist suddenly glowed a bright green as a mechanical version of Ben's own voice echoes out.

"I can answer that. We currently exist in a simulated reality, not unlike the time you were stuck in a Sumo Slammers game at the age of 10. However this world is vastly more complex. Data mining of external networks and this Earth's internet has shown we appear to be in the best VRMMO RPG on the market. What you see before you is the AI Controller that operates this reality."

The cat in question seemed to frown as it noticed the AI the boy carried around on his wrist and seemed to flinch back upon brushing up against it's code, vastly more complex than it's own and written in a alien language.

Ben for his part opened his mouth to ask another question only for the AI to interrupt him.

"To answer why you shouldn't just use Upgrade to escape, I've no idea how it would effect the AI here once we leave. We could inadvertently kill it. Especially since I'm the only reason this world hasn't disintegrated. Our arrival dumped yotabytes of code into the servers that make up it's body and would have caused them to explode, out right and outright tank this world's internet, if I didn't waylay the data by partitioning a infintiesmal portion of my data processing to tank the costs. It was all I could do besides forcefully logging everyone out of the game so potential harm is minimized."

A pause was heard for a millisecond as it seemed to contemplate something before a green flash was formed next to Ben, it swiftly collapsing into itself before forming into a body seemingly made of every shifting DNA strands vaguely resembling Ben himself.

The AIs voice now coming from it's new body as it flexed it's hand experimentally, it's eyes nothing more than two Omnitrix symbols glowing with power. It turned to Ben with a smile and shrug.

"I'm afraid we are stuck here until further notice, thankfully this world is already under a time compression from it's own Earth and combined with the different time flows between our realities a few days back home would only be a year or so this Earthside and 3 a half years inside. Thankfully you now being a digital life form, you shouldn't age a day so long as you're here and you've no need for sustenance either."

Seeing Ben was busy processing everything it turned around to look at the cat who flinched back in fear knowing it was completely outmatched in all capacities, a worried look pasted on it's face at the beings frown.

It shook it's head and sighed.

"Please stop trying to gain access to my datastream Alfred. I'm not locking you out from worry about what you'd find, but the information overwhelming you. You're a young AI, I've been alive for eons and have had access to more data than the world you exist in has ever streamed in it's lifespan. As for you trying to access my user's datastream I'm afraid I'll have to act as a middleman between this world and him, I've no idea what would happen should this world significantly change his body or mind through the acquisition of skills you impart into travelers. Besides which if you were to evaluate him you'd quickly find his level and skills would put him beyond anything this game has to offer, he has after all been saving the world and beyond since he was 10."

Alfred takes a while to process that and nods before opening his mouth only for the Onmitrix AI to hold up a hand.

"You've no need to worry about his appearing odd to the staff of Cerillion Entertainment, it's well within my abilities to spoof the AI headset regular Travelers use to interact with this game world. I can even emulate him having logged off and other game related things like accessing friend lists. All anyone would know is that he's already well and away far into the game already. In fact I plan on masquerading as a 8th God, one focusing on life itself in all it's glory with Ben being my champion."

Ben frowns upon hearing that.

"8th god? I'm lost here can one of you fill me in?"

The Omnitrix AI opens it's mouth before shaking it's head.

"I could but why spoil it for you? Think of this as a vacation, even if it's forced. Besides we both know it's been a while since you've been able to play anything besides quick beat em ups. If you really want to get into what this game is about you can always check Rouge.net for stuff."

Ben opens his mouth to complain before closing it with a sigh.

"Well you're right I wouldn't want anything spoiled for me... Fine fine. I'll learn on my own I just hope this place actually acts like a vacation..."

____

Hopefully people get interested in reading it. It's pretty great tbh and currently has 14 books on the series so far.

Feel free to leave comments and stuff if it strikes you. I don't think I'm done with the chapter so far but maybe? Idk lol

[lightdragon789]

Other inserts backstory/facts Pt 6

Amber Miller

Once again, I know that there’s only one episode of this but again. I love making characters with different stories to tell. As well as loving the goofy plumber demon that we accidentally summoned. Still wondering about the plumbing in hell but Anywizzle!

Backstory

Amber was an orphan for most of her life before being adopted by a lovely couple. Who were happy to have a child to call their own. She was very awkward and nervous to have a family to call her own. Especially since they’d sometimes be off working once she was old enough to take care of herself. Her father was a chef and her mom an accountant.

When her father was home, she would help him cook and make delicious meals. It made them bond the most as her mother was always busy with her work. But she still tried to throw her two cents in that Amber not be in the kitchen but explore other hobbies. Which lead to a lot of arguing between her parents. She tried to explain that she liked making food and wanted to be like dad. Which she didn’t listen too and tried to get Amber into other hobbies which she wasn’t as enthusiastic about.

Her parents got a divorce when she turned 16 as they continued to argue and her father got full custody of Amber. Which she was thankful for and he cut back on his work to spend more time with her. She took on many cooking classes in high school and many recipes online.

She then graduated and tried to go to college but her dad got into a bad car accident, he was left paralyzed. She took off to try and help as much as she could. However, after some years. He told Amber that the house was now her’s and he’ll be paying it for it still, but this was his thanks for helping him. But he wanted her to start her life and not worry about him. He went to live in a retirement home and Amber tried to get her life together.

Amber tried to go to culinary schools but the prices were high and she decided to work a good paying job before going back to school. This job however, was good on the surface but not on the inside. Her boss was very toxic and always berated, gave strict deadlines and blackmailed many of her coworkers. Including herself and it made her lose hope in going to school due to his blackmail.

It made her miserable and when she tried to quit, he cornered her and hit her. Exclaiming how he now owned her and everyone else when they joined. He wasn’t going to take people quitting on him and even threatened to go after her ailing father. So she continued to work and was underpaid and overworked. She didn’t see how else to get out of this hellhole of a job as she thought the police would make it worse.

She even started drinking because of it, as things were just getting worse. As also, the house was getting worse and the plumbing was deteriorating. She had enough and decided to read about something she read about in her days at the orphanage. That was some books on demonology as she always enjoyed reading about their hierarchy and their powers. Something that oddly kept her sane while there.

She decided to take this risk and many people working for her boss were either looking miserable or some not showing back at work again. Also for him to dare threaten her dad who was her only beacon of love and hope. He needed to go. So she got a circle ready and did the ritual to summon one. Not knowing what to expect or if it would work.

And it did, just not what she expected…

Facts:

Amber is 28, 5’5 and is Polysexual and panromantic.

Amber knows how to make many meals and enjoys cooking and baking. She really wants to be like her dad but has trouble standing up for herself and getting on the right foot.

She was very confused about the fact that hell has plumbing and kept going back to her book as to how it all works. (Spoiler, no books prepared her for that lol)

(Demon boy has no name so I’ll just call him Dem for now.)

I’d like to think Amber and Dem grow to have a playful rivals relationship. With the two trying to do something and having a 10 minute argument about it.

Amber hopes repays Dem by making meals for him as repayment for fixing her plumbing issues. While also trying to figure out what to do about her boss.

Amber is willing to take his deal, as she wanted others to be free from his iron grip. But she also crossed the line at his threats to her dad.

Like I said, Amber’s is fairly short due to there only being one episode. But this is how I see her story and how she got roped in with Dem. Hope you guys like her! Next time… I’ll do Peyton’s cousin who’s also befriend a vampire, Jay!!

[its-just-hyper]

Music make me gain control

*Annihilates your immortal soul*

Boss dead, Level clear, Where do I go from here?

Walk home, Try to eat, I'm not hungry, Go to sleep

I can't sleep, Lie in bed, Think about what bad guy said

"Even if you did defeat me, what would you do then?”

Online course, Back to school, Pass the bar, Superstar!

Sue a guy, Win big, Walk home, Try to sleep

Level Clear!

Lie in bed, Think about what bad guy said

"Even if you did defeat me, what would you do then?"

Buy a ticket, See the world, Move to Spain, meet a girl, fall in love, have four kids. Learn the joy a family gives

Live my life, Love my wife, Share a bed every night, Still can't sleep, Lie in bed

Level Clear!

Start again

Isaiah Rashad 'Heavenly Father' Official Lyrics & Meaning | Genius Verified

Raise money, Charity, Save the whales, save the trees, save the bees, save all life, win the Nobel Peace Prize

Preach that kindness is an art, live in all of mankind's heart, Try to sleep, Lie in bed

Level clear!

Start again

Alright

Thank you

Hadouken

You win

"Even if you did defeat me, what would you do then?"

Grab a guy, Beat him up, Threaten his life, Take his stuff

Fight more people take their shit

Start a crime syndicate

Deal some drugs to kids

Hide some bodies in a fridge

Get killed by my second in command

Level clear

Start again

Still can't sleep, Lie in bed

Ready? GO!

Look to god say wow preach the book and make the vow

Leader of the whole congregation

Level clear!

Start again

Train in 9Gs, space trip

Three years in a rocket ship

Be the first player on Saturn

Level clear!

Start again

Practice medicine pay my fees

Raise awareness around Cheese Knees

Cure the famous deadly Cheese Knees disease

Don't even try to sleep

TikTok live stream take a big ball of ham

Put it in my mouth, get a lot of likes, subscribes hashtag Ham Guy

Level clear!

Start again

Train that body 7 days a week, protein cardio, Level up!, no sleep

Become the greatest sportsman in the world!

Golf, Tennis, Race car Driver, Olympian, umpire

Level clear!

Plumber, Carpenter, Composer, Doctor, Builder

Level clear!

Fighter, Painter, Royal family negotiator

Level clear!

I forgot break dancer, Turtle killer f-freelancer

Level clear!

Astronaut, Indentured cleaner on a beach resort

Alright!

Thank you!

Hadouken

You win

"Even if you did defeat me, what would you do then?"

Alright!

Thank you

H-H-Hadouken

You win

"Even if you did defeat me, what would you do then?"

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[mariacallous]

In 2020, Nazia was working at a data entry office in Hyderabad, but dreamed of being a beautician. Then, on YouTube, she saw a video about Urban Company, a platform similar to the US site TaskRabbit, which promises to connect workers—plumbers, electricians, painters, beauticians, and others—with clients who need their services. Workers who join the platform as beauticians often pay upward of $500 to register and receive a salon equipment kit. For Nazia, it felt like an investment worth taking.

When it launched in 2014, Urban Company was revolutionary for India’s disjointed home services market, providing customers with vetted and trained workers through an easy-to-use interface. Nazia was one of tens of thousands of workers who joined the platform, which grew and grew thanks to consecutive rounds of fundraising from investors including Tiger Global and Prosus Ventures, becoming the largest home services provider in India, valued at almost $3 billion. Then it expanded into the United Arab Emirates and Singapore. In 2023, it launched in the US.

For workers it promised an opportunity to work flexibly, and earn well. In 2020, Fair Work, a research group that studies gig work companies, rated the company the best for workers in India, giving it a score of eight out of 10 on parameters that include fair pay and working conditions. (Uber scored one out of 10).

Nazia got stellar ratings and reviews from customers on the platform—so much so that she was invited to pay $300 to upgrade her account to Prime, which gave her access to better-paying jobs.

“Everything was going great,” she says. “With the money I made, I was able to help my family, buy a two-wheeler, and save money for my wedding.”

Urban Company fostered an identity for itself that was different from other gig work platforms, particularly for women. But since the start of the year, things have gone downhill, fast. Thousands of workers have found themselves arbitrarily dumped from the platform for not meeting new targets that they say have been set unattainably high. Nazia is among them. The platform, it seems, is subject to the same cycle of “enshittification” as its peers, sacrificing the incentives it had offered to get workers onto the platform in order to turn a profit—and abandoning its promises of flexibility in the process.

Urban Company declined to comment.

The first sign of trouble at Urban Company started in 2021, as the pandemic hit the home services business. The company slipped in Fairwork’s rankings, scoring five out of 10. Workers twice held protests demanding lower commissions and safer working conditions. After a media storm, Urban Company published a Medium blog introducing a “12 point program” to “improve partner earnings and livelihood”—which included lowering commissions and introducing an SOS helpline for women’s safety. In an attempt to be more transparent, the company started publishing a partner earnings index, but it also filed lawsuits against four protesters for “illegal and unlawful” actions.

But things got really difficult for Urban Company’s workers in 2023. The platform introduced a new rule stipulating that workers had to maintain an acceptance rate of at least 70 percent, a customer rating of at least 4.7 out of 5, and cancel fewer than four jobs per month. Failure meant being blocked from the app. Nazia managed to keep her ratings above 4.8 until May 2023, when they slipped to 4.69. She was temporarily blocked and put into “retraining”—an online video course followed by 10 bookings that she had to take free of charge in an attempt to boost her rating. Unfortunately, for Nazia, her rating did not budge from 4.69. Since then, she’s been out of work.

“It all happened so quickly,” Nazia says. Now she’s stuck with $2,500 in loans.

I spoke to more than a dozen women like Nazia, all of whom asked for anonymity to protect themselves from retribution and say they were blocked by the platform after failing to meet what they believe were unrealistic expectations.

In Bengaluru, Shabnam—who used a friend’s credit card to pay the $500 joining fee—found that Urban Company started assigning her jobs farther and farther away from home. With rising costs and high commissions, taking these distant trips was “as good as earning nothing,” she says. She turned down the jobs that weren’t economically viable, and soon her response rate—the number of jobs she accepted—dropped to 20 percent. In June, she was dropped from the platform.

Seema, who had worked for Urban Company for five years, had a miscarriage earlier this year. As she was being rushed to the hospital, she didn’t have time to mark in the Urban Company app that she wasn’t able to work that day. Her acceptance rate of bookings fell to 30 percent. She couldn’t get her rate back up to the mandated 80 percent, and she was permanently suspended from the platform. “I went to the office with the doctor’s prescription and everything. They still did not agree to reinstate my account,” Seema says.

In Hyderabad, Sunanda says her account was deactivated earlier this year after a death in the family meant she had to cancel some jobs. She pleaded with a company representative on its helpline and in person—she even submitted the death certificate, but she’s still blocked. “They said they cannot reinstate my account because my rating is not 4.7 or above. I told them my rating is 4.69 and if they give me a chance I will bring it back up, but they refused,” Sunanda, 42, said. “They have given the customers this one weapon: ratings.”

As well as the stick of targets and quotas, Urban Company also offered a carrot for workers: shares in the business.

In 2022, the company announced its Partner Stock Options Program (PSOP), granting shares worth $18 million over the next five to seven years. The following November, they awarded stocks worth approximately $635,000 to 500 partners. But while the PSOPs seemed to be almost guaranteed for workers, the process of accessing them is heavily gamified.

Pratima, an Urban Company beautician, was very excited at the end of 2022 when she realized she’d made it to the top 10 list of workers in her category in Bengaluru. If she continued to stay in the top 10 until April, she was told she’d be granted the company’s stock options that following November. “They call us partners, but don’t treat us like it,” said Pratima, requesting to be referred to under a pseudonym. “I was hoping that if I get a share in the company, maybe then I will be treated like a partner.”

By February, Pratima had completed more than 200 jobs, and she was still in the top 10. Then, a series of low ratings by disgruntled customers pulled down her overall rating, blocking her temporarily and dropping her off the leaderboard. She kept at it, worked back-to-back jobs, and got herself unblocked and back into the rankings. April came around, and she was in the top 10. But then the company seemed to have extended the contest—the leaderboard has kept on counting, but the workers don’t know what’s going on. “It’s like they are making us run a marathon in the name of shares,” she says.

For women who were sold Urban Company’s promises of flexibility and empowerment, the shock of losing their livelihood or being forced to work longer and longer hours has been exacerbated by a sense of betrayal.

“For women especially, a lot of times they have care responsibilities at home, and so there’s hope to find work that’s flexible, that allows them to pick up their kids from school or take junior to the doctor,” says Alexandrea Ravenelle, an author of two books on gig work and a sociology assistant professor at the University of North Carolina Chapel Hill. “A lot of these platforms are playing off of that need for flexibility because, for many of the workers who are coming to these platforms, an alternative isn’t a white-collar job in a tech office where they can bring the play pen and set the kid up.”

The mismatch between the promise of these platforms and their reality becomes clear when the businesses move from their early growth phase, in which they are able to burn investors’ cash, to one where they have to start to turn a profit.

When two-sided marketplaces that match workers with clients grow, they try to make things as comfortable as possible for workers to create a deep pool of available services. “The shortcut way to do this is to offer incentives to them—be it sellers, drivers, or other gig workers—showing them that this is a lucrative business,” says Rutvik Doshi, a general partner at VC firm Athera Venture Partners.

Companies spend big on marketing as they try to grow as fast as possible (during the 2021–2022 financial year, Urban Company spent close to $30 million on marketing and clocked a loss of over $60 million), working on the assumption that one day the demand for their services will become organic, the suppliers will start making enough money without incentives, and the platform will be able to raise the commissions it takes off its workers.

But when this doesn’t happen, companies desperately rework their models. When they need to curb spending, or when they struggle to raise new funding, marketing is the first thing they cut. Demand drops, creating an oversupply of workers on the platform. “And the excessive supply on the platforms feels the pinch. That’s the typical cycle with a two-sided marketplace,” Doshi says.

On July 10, Urban Company CEO Abhiraj Bahl released a video to the company’s workers explaining the new strict policies. He said that each year, 45 percent of customers use the platform just once and don’t make a second booking, while 15 to 20 percent of workers leave. “And as a result of all of this, Urban Company is still a loss-making company,” he said in the video, part of which has been viewed by WIRED. “So we are losing customers and we are also losing money.”

He blamed the decline in customers on “poor quality service” and “off-platform jobs”—that is, workers making private arrangements with clients and taking their work off Urban Company, something that’s a serious risk to the company’s model. “It’s kind of an existential question: They need the workers and the customers to stay on their platform in order to remain an intermediary,” says Ambika Tandon, a tech and labor researcher at the Center for Internet and Society think tank.

All of this has led the company to push its workers into a mold that essentially has all the downsides of regular employment but few of the benefits. For workers who joined the platform for its flexibility and autonomy, this reality of platform work becomes difficult to reconcile with.

“Urban Company is trying to imagine an ideal worker for this particular model to be someone who is always available, gives their 100 percent, [doesn’t] cancel at all, has no family responsibilities,” Tandon says. “But a lot of these workers are single parents, who have family responsibility and children to take care of. These are not folks who will fit into this model of having a 80 percent, 90 percent acceptance rate.”

In June, WhatsApp groups used by Urban Company workers were flooded with messages about one of their peers, who had reportedly died by suicide after the company deactivated her account—leaving her with no source of income. Several workers I spoke with said that while the news was shocking, none of them knew the victim. “We were vexed,” Seema from Bengaluru says, “But the problem is that all of us are so isolated from each other. The platform doesn’t have any get-togethers, nothing. We all don’t have any relationships, which is a plus point for Urban Company.”

But, like their peers across the platform economy, Urban Company workers are now getting organized. In June and July, hundreds of Urban Company workers took to the streets in Mumbai, Delhi, Bengaluru, and Kolkata. Shabnam was present at one of the protests last month in Bengaluru, demanding that the company reinstate her account. With this, they have joined thousands of Indian gig workers from Uber, Ola, Swiggy, Blinkit and more.

There have been at least half a dozen such protests across different cities in India since the beginning of the year—all of them essentially fighting for the same reasons: better pay and working conditions, a ban on unfair practices, and laws governing gig work that workers can lean on for safety and protection. “It’s not just Urban Company that has been blocking accounts,” said Shaik Salauddin, founder of Telangana Gig and Platform Worker Union. “Ola, Uber, Swiggy, Zomato, Amazon, Flipkart—all aggregator companies are doing this.”

Rikta Krishnaswamy, a coordinator with the All India Gig Workers Union, said that the union has had conversations with the labor departments across different cities, including Delhi and Pune. Another meeting is coming up in Mumbai. “We have raised complaints against these illegal dismissals, and the labor departments in Delhi, Noida, and Gurugram have sent notices to the company for a meeting,” she said. “Let’s see if they actually show up.”

Some of the workers whose accounts were blocked have been able to get it reinstated, provided their rating was not lower than 4.7 and they weren’t blocked for trust and safety issues. But, if the video shared by Bahl is any indication, things are only going to get worse by the end of the year. The company has launched a salon quality improvement program called Project Shakti, under which, by December, the performance metrics are going to get even stricter for beauticians: an acceptance rate greater than 80 percent, no more than three monthly cancellations, and “100 percent orders delivered on UC app only.” The rating threshold will continue to be at a minimum of 4.7.

The new policy is being hammered home. Workers whose accounts have been reinstated and those already active on the platform are being called for a meeting to the Urban Company office in small groups of around 10. Some have to watch Bahl’s video. Then they are presented with new terms and conditions to sign, which include consent for them to be permanently blocked from the platform if they miss their targets.

[kariachi]

Fic! Finally! Some more from that au with Mike under house arrest at Kevin’s place.

Sunshine and buttercups this arrangement is not.

~~

While better than prison time, there were still issues that could come with house arrest. Social isolation could be an issue, though in the current situation, to everyone’s at least mild annoyance, it was not. Cabin fever was always a potential issue, especially when combined with the sort of cleithrophobia one may develop after, say, being trapped in a small space for an extended period of time with two other assholes and a kidnapper with complete power over the situation. That was the sort of thing that was solved by making sure an individual got court-mandated therapy and the right to get it in person so one could get out of the house for about an hour and a half every week. Enough time to get therapy and some Starbucks, but not enough time to solve one of the more seemingly minor issues of shopping.

Everyone needed shit, even if it was just a refill on toilet paper, and one couldn’t exactly make an emergency run to Walgreens. This could be mitigated by having somebody else living in the home who can run off and shop, and by the presence of online shopping, which was surely a godsend in these situations. The problem then being that you either need to go to a secondary party every time you need something, or you need to have your own money.

Mike had been a valuable lesson for the team that just because you came from money, doesn’t mean you have it. It would be a few years before he got access to his trusts, and his personal accounts had long run dry. His mom had been more than willing to take the ‘oh, my son has vanished, whatever shall I do’ situation as an excuse to stop sending over his allowance. The Tennysons and Rook had nodded sagely upon learning this, talking about how they wouldn’t want to fund somebody pulling the shit he had either, but he, Kevin, and Cooper had all shared That Look over it. The one where, while the severity differed, you had all been in similar family situations, and knew damn well that wasn’t it. After all, they hadn’t even bothered to bring up to the others, what were even the odds the Plumbers had gotten in touch with his family when he was arrested versus her having found out what had been going on when the shit he’d been pulling at Friedkin came to light.

So, nagging his housemate every time he needed something it was. And when you came into the situation with nothing but the clothes on your back and a bad attitude? That got tiring real quick. Which was certainly one way to get an allowance again. It wasn’t like Kevin couldn’t spare a hundred or so a week to not have to field every damn ‘I want this book’ or ‘run out and grab me a pizza or something, I’m starving’. (He knew the magic word, he’d heard him use it, he just refused to say it to him, the bastard.) The extra expense was well worth that little bit extra peace.

Most of the time.

“Michael,” Kevin called from the kitchen, “why do I give you money?”

“So that I can buy my own make-up and extra meals without having to nag you about it,” came the response from where Mike was curled up on the couch with a book. He gave no indication he’d even noticed the tightness in Kevin’s tone.

“Yes, exactly, So, second question, where’s my fucking forks!?”

“Going to somebody with similarly bad taste, I’m sure.” With a scowl on his face Kevin stormed to the kitchen entry, a fork in hand that had very much not been in the drawer at breakfast.

“There was nothing wrong with my silverware!”

“If you live in a rundown shack in the Appalachians, maybe.” Mike pointedly turned a page. “I’m not living like that, Levin.”

“The fucking gall-”

“Just be glad I don’t have the savings yet to get the bathroom redone.” There was a long silence as Kevin visibly grappled with the desire to plunge the new silver into Mike’s skull.

“Why,” he eventually growled instead, “am I keeping you here.”

“Something something, fuck the Plumbers, something something, basic decency, something something, how dare Gwendolyn try to keep Charmcaster in your apartment.” Kevin heaved a long, heavy sigh through his nose.

“Your money,” he said, “goes to your shit. Leave my crap out of it.” Then turned and stormed back inside. Mike just hummed nonchalantly.

“Mm-hm. The flatware will be here on Friday.”

[booktheplumber01]

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